The Runway Borrows From the Bazaar: How Gucci, Chanel, and Prada Are Making India's Aesthetic Their Own

There is a certain irony in watching a Parisian maison charge $900 for a pair of earrings that a craftsman in Rajasthan has been making for centuries. The jhumka — that bell-shaped, filigree-worked drop earring that has dangled from Indian ears since at least the medieval period — has arrived on the global runway. It has arrived without much acknowledgment of where it came from.

This is not a new story. But it is a story worth telling clearly.

The Jhumka's Long Journey

The jhumka traces its origins to ancient India, with references found in sculptures at Sanchi and Amaravati dating back to the 2nd century BCE. The word itself derives from jhumkna, meaning to sway. For centuries, the earring was integral to classical dance — Bharatanatyam, Odissi, Kathak — its gentle movement marking rhythm as much as ornament. In Mughal miniatures, it appears on queens and courtesans alike. It was, in short, a full cultural artifact before it became a trend.

Gucci's recent collections have featured oversized chandelier earrings — layered, tasseled, unmistakably jhumka-adjacent — presented as "maximalist" design. Chanel followed with its Métiers d'Art collection, leaning into tiered temple jewelry silhouettes. Neither brand named their source material.

The Kolhapuri and the Cobblestones of Milan

The Kolhapuri chappal is a sandal with a more precise geography than most footwear in the world. It comes from Kolhapur, a city in Maharashtra, where craftsmen have been hand-stitching leather using vegetable dyes and traditional tools for centuries — the design's origins trace to the 12th century, and it holds a government geographical-indication tag. The sandal's flat sole, interwoven leather straps, and distinctive toe ring loop are not design choices — they are the accumulated knowledge of generations of chamar artisans, many from communities that have faced centuries of social marginalization for the very work that is now coveted.

At Milan Fashion Week in June 2025, Prada sent models down the runway in flat, strappy leather sandals with toe loops that sent Indian fashion observers into a spiral of recognition. The show notes described them merely as "leather footwear" — no mention of Kolhapur. The backlash from Indian artisans, politicians, and the Maharashtra Chamber of Commerce was swift. Prada later acknowledged the sandals were "inspired by traditional Indian handcrafted footwear, with a centuries-old heritage," in a letter to the chamber from Lorenzo Bertelli, and by April 2026 had launched a limited-edition Made-in-India Kolhapuri line, produced with artisan groups in Maharashtra and Karnataka, plus a training programme for craftspeople.

The Question of Credit

Cultural exchange has always driven fashion. The difference is whether that exchange is acknowledged or simply absorbed. Some brands are beginning to shift. Dior's 2023 pre-fall collection, shot in Mumbai, at least named India explicitly. Valentino has worked with Indian embroidery ateliers on record. Prada's Kolhapuri episode — outrage, then acknowledgment, then collaboration — may be the template: pressure works, slowly. But these remain exceptions.

The jhumka still sways in the ears of women across India — at weddings, at temples, at Tuesday afternoons. The Kolhapuri still slaps the dusty roads of Maharashtra. They were never waiting for the runway to validate them. The runway simply arrived late.