Maryam Poonawala
For decades in the lively streets of Kolhapur, a city in Maharashtra, artisans had hammered, stitched, and tanned leather. Kolhapuri chappals are not mere footwear; they symbolize our heritage, and the art of making them has traveled through generations. Before they ever land on the feet of anyone, every pair of Kolhapuris must have experienced the serene time in the royal courts of India, village fairs, and modern-day street life.
So when global luxury powerhouses like Gucci and Prada recently strutted out sandals that looked unmistakably like Kolhapuri chappals — polished leather, the signature T-strap, the rustic charm — but with price tags soaring into hundreds of dollars, the fashion world took notice. What was missing, though, was any whisper of where these sandals really came from: the sun-soaked streets and tiny workshops of Kolhapur, Maharashtra, where generations of cobblers have kept this craft alive with bare hands and raw leather.
The omission felt like more than just a marketing oversight — it was a painful reminder of how easily heritage can be edited out when style goes global. For the craftspeople who stitch and tan these sandals by hand, seeing their humble design walk the world’s runways under foreign labels — without credit or fair share — reopened the simmering debate around cultural appropriation, ethical fashion, and what true respect for craft really looks like.
In this article, we explore how Kolhapuri chappals made their way from local markets to luxury runways, sparking debates on cultural heritage, fair fashion, and global appropriation.
Let’s know more about it with The One Liner.
A Kolhapuri chappal is instantly recognizable: sturdy buffalo hide, vegetable tanned, hand-braided straps, and the iconic T-strap design. Originally crafted for durability in Maharashtra’s tropical heat, they’ve adorned the feet of farmers and kings alike.
So much so, they were awarded a Geographical Indication (GI) tag — a badge meant to protect traditional knowledge and regional pride.
Yet, when Gucci showcased what seemed eerily similar — sans acknowledgment or collaboration with Kolhapuri artisans — it raised uncomfortable questions: When does inspiration cross the line into cultural theft?
Gucci wasn’t alone. Prada too drew heat when its 2020 collection featured a sandal suspiciously close to the Kolhapuri silhouette, retailing at over 20 times the price a local artisan would earn. For the global buyer, it was “ethnic elegance.” For the cobbler in Kolhapur, it was a silent erasure of identity — their work sold worldwide, yet their name and craft remained invisible.
No royalties. No credit. No fair share of the spotlight. Just Milan’s runways echoing the silent courtyards of Maharashtra without uttering their name.
At its best, fashion is a bridge — weaving cultures together, inspiring collaborations, and celebrating craft. At its worst, it’s a magpie — plucking shiny bits of heritage, stripping them of context, and selling them to the highest bidder.
When does a tribute become theft? The Kolhapuri chappal debate is not just about leather sandals. It’s about how global brands engage with traditional crafts. Do they pay fair compensation? Do they credit centuries-old skills? Or do they simply rebrand cultural symbols to suit Western tastes?
India’s craft economy sustains over 7 million artisans. Their skills — whether weaving Varanasi silks or shaping Kolhapuri leather — are living archives of the subcontinent’s rich history. They deserve more than an uncredited nod in a glossy lookbook.
Collaborations exist — Dior, for example, has partnered with Indian artisans, placing local craftspeople on the global stage while ensuring livelihoods flourish. However, cases like the Kolhapuri controversy remind us of the fragility of ethical fashion.
Reverse globalization isn’t about rejecting global brands—it refers to a process that prevents global brands from slipping through the regulatory system into some kind of grey area. Imagine if Gucci and Prada had collaborated with Kolhapuri clusters: they would have uplifted the condition of local artisans, shared profits, and taken credit for the work! So, instead of mere cultural borrowing, it would have been cultural bridging.
Ethical fashion is not just about eco-friendly materials — it’s about fair trade in ideas, skills, and symbols. Every Kolhapuri chappal on a runway should carry the story of the hands that made it, so that a farmer’s child in Kolhapur dreams not of migration, but of mastering a craft that the world truly values.
Because fashion, at its finest, doesn’t just sell an aesthetic — it preserves a legacy.
In a world where trends travel faster than ever, the story of the Kolhapuri chappal reminds us that true style is more than a passing runway moment — it’s a living legacy. When global brands borrow from centuries-old crafts, they hold a responsibility to protect, honour, and uplift the communities that keep these traditions alive.
Reverse globalisation is not about shutting the doors on cultural exchange — it’s about opening them wider, but with respect, fairness, and shared pride. After all, fashion should not just reinvent heritage — it should help it thrive.
Kolhapuri chappals are traditional handcrafted leather sandals from Kolhapur, Maharashtra, India. They’re known for their durability, unique T-strap design, and centuries-old artisanal craftsmanship.
They are popular for the intricate work and the hard work put to make it. They’re eco-friendly vegetable tanning, and have deep cultural roots. They symbolize affordable ethnic elegance and Indian heritage.
A GI tag protects products that have a specific geographic origin and unique qualities linked to that place. Kolhapuri chappals have a GI tag, which means only sandals made in designated districts of Maharashtra and Karnataka can be called ‘Kolhapuri.’
Gucci showcased sandals closely resembling Kolhapuri chappals in their luxury collections but did not acknowledge the original craft or collaborate with Indian artisans — sparking debates about cultural appropriation.
Prada too launched sandals that looked like Kolhapuri chappals, priced exorbitantly, with no credit to the original craft or its makers. This fueled discussions on fair recognition and ethical fashion.
It can be — when brands profit from traditional crafts without credit, fair pay, or meaningful collaboration, it crosses into cultural appropriation rather than appreciation.
It can lead to loss of recognition, unfair competition, and low returns for artisans while global brands earn huge profits by ‘rebranding’ heritage crafts.
Brands can ethically collaborate with artisan communities, ensure fair compensation, give credit, and invest in preserving traditional knowledge systems.
Yes. Brands like Dior and some niche ethical labels have actively collaborated with Indian craftspeople, showcasing how global fashion can support genuine cultural exchange.
Consumers can support local artisan collectives, check for GI tags, buy directly from craft clusters or verified ethical brands, and raise awareness about cultural heritage protection.
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