Draped in Erasure: How the Dupatta Became a “Scarf” and Why It Hurts
by EyeforFashion
It started with a whisper—a post on Instagram, a new “bridal scarf” in a wedding collection. Delicate, flowing, styled across the shoulder with intricate embroidery. Beautiful, yes. Familiar? Painfully.
It didn’t take long before South Asian fashion watchers realized: this wasn’t some new Scandinavian wedding trend. It was a dupatta.
And it was being rebranded.
The Oh Polly Controversy: A Fabric of Misrepresentation
In early 2024, UK-based fashion brand Oh Polly released its “Scandi wedding” collection—featuring a white draped fabric styled in a way unmistakably familiar to millions of South Asians around the world. But they didn’t call it a dupatta. They called it a scarf. Aesthetic only. No cultural context. No heritage. No mention of India, Pakistan, Bangladesh—nothing.
And that silence was deafening.
For generations, South Asians have wrapped themselves in dupattas for weddings, festivals, prayers, farewells, and even funerals. To see it stripped of meaning and resold in white lace to a western market wasn’t just offensive. It was heartbreak.
Fashion is supposed to elevate—but this felt like erasure.
The Dupatta: More Than Just Fabric
To those who’ve never worn one, a dupatta might just look like an elegant accessory. But to South Asians, it’s a symbol—of grace, modesty, resistance, pride.
In weddings, a red bridal dupatta often carries the blessings of generations, pinned lovingly by mothers, aunts, sisters.
In religious settings, it’s worn out of devotion and respect, covering the head or shoulders.
In film and poetry, it’s been used to represent everything from love to loss.
It tells stories.
And when that story is sold back to us as a “minimalist bridal veil,” it cuts deep.
The Dupatta Has Entered the Chat—But at What Cost?
Over the past year, we’ve seen a stunning wave of South Asian fashion entering mainstream consciousness. Lehengas at Western weddings, saree drapes at fashion week, and yes—dupatta-style styling on red carpets, at bachelorette parties, even at Coachella.
There’s joy in that. There’s pride.
But here’s the catch: when these garments are removed from their cultural roots and renamed or misused, it becomes fashion without memory. Beauty without honor.
And that’s not style. That’s theft.
Why It Hurts: A Personal Pain
Ask any South Asian kid who grew up in the diaspora what it felt like to wear a kurta to school or a dupatta to a family event. The stares. The jokes. The "costume" comments.
We were made to feel other. Now, those same aesthetics are hailed as “elevated boho chic” or “cottagecore couture”—just on different bodies. It’s not just about who gets to wear it. It’s about who gets celebrated for it.
When South Asian girls wear a dupatta, they’re told to assimilate.
When white models wear it, they’re put on the cover of bridal magazines.
students of Washington University In Saint Lewis Celebrating Dwali
So... Can You Wear It?
Yes. But with care.
Here’s how to wear Indian-inspired fashion while being culturally aware:
Acknowledge the Source: Call it what it is. Dupatta. Lehenga. Saree. Respect the language, the origin, the people.
Celebrate Creators, Not Just Consumers: Support South Asian designers. Credit their work. Don’t dilute it into “vibes.”
Know When: Traditional South Asian garments are often tied to sacred or ceremonial occasions. A beaded bridal dupatta at brunch? Maybe not.
Ask, Don’t Assume: If you're unsure, ask someone from the culture. Most will appreciate the thoughtfulness over the silence.
Fashion Is a Language—Learn to Speak It Fluently
At Eye for Fashion, we believe clothes can be a bridge. Between cultures. Between identities. Between past and present. But a bridge only stands when it’s built on respect.
The dupatta isn’t a trend. It’s a legacy.
So wear it—but wear it right.
Because real style isn’t just about what you wear. It’s about what you honor when you wear it.
