Do we still care about cultural appropriation? From Zara to Prada, fashion brands continue to borrow from cultures around the world
This article was written by students at the Milano Fashion Institute.
Cultural appropriation dominated fashion discourse throughout the 2010s, regularly sparking social media backlash, think pieces, and public apologies from brands. Yet the re-emergence of culturally inspired fashion trends has led some commentators to question whether concerns surrounding cultural appropriation still carry the same weight they once did.
Recent examples suggest that the debate has not disappeared but rather evolved. Walk into Zara today, and you can find crochet caps resembling Tubis or Doobies, hair-wrapping techniques traditionally used across African and Latina communities to preserve straightened hair and protect hairstyles. Elsewhere in the store, tops inspired by the traditional design of qipaos, a dress with deep roots in Chinese cultural history, have appeared as part of trend-driven collections. The cycle today is even more complex: from Prada's Kolhapuri-inspired sandals and Ralph Lauren's jhumka-inspired earrings to grooming styles rooted in South Asian identity, all rebranded as high fashion.
Why fashion brands keep borrowing from marginalized cultures
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A decade ago, collections such as these may have generated widespread online criticism. Today, however, many similar controversies receive considerably less attention. For critics, this shift raises an important question: have attitudes towards cultural appropriation changed, or has the conversation simply become less visible? The way these garments are conceived - both in production and pricing - is linked to neo-colonial practices and cultural appropriation. Not only are brands exploiting entire communities for cheap labor and garment production, but the exploitation of cultural resources is part of the extraction of goods that has happened since the colonial times of each country that experiences this.
Fashion's neocolonial control is driven by its growing overconsumption and overproduction of garments outsourced to non-European countries. This control is not only manufactured by cheap labor and disregard for human rights and well-being, but the exploitation of cultural intellectual property is also another way of extracting every possible resource without being held accountable for the impact on different communities. The same people who are being exploited to mass-produce these garments are the inspiration for the designs being upsold by brands in the West.
When cultural exchange becomes ethical collaboration
If past mistakes teach us what not to do, successful collaborations show us what works: the 2018 case of Gucci and Dapper Dan demonstrates how the direct involvement of an insider, the tailor who invented the language of street luxury in Harlem, can transform a plagiarism controversy into a creative dialogue that elevates both. Similarly, Stella Jean's work with Haitian artisans goes beyond aesthetics, establishing a model of equity where intellectual property and profits are shared with those who truly preserve the knowledge.
If Europe is serious about protecting cultural heritage, it may not need to reinvent the wheel. In 2022, Mexico introduced a federal law protecting the collective intellectual and cultural property of Indigenous and Afro-Mexican communities, allowing them to challenge the unauthorized commercial use of their traditional designs. That framework has already been put to the test.
In 2025, the state of Oaxaca accused Adidas of cultural appropriation over its Oaxaca Slip-On sneaker, arguing that the design copied the traditional huaraches of the Zapotec community of Villa Hidalgo Yalálag without permission or compensation. Officials threatened legal action, demanded the product’s withdrawal and called for financial reparations, prompting Adidas to enter talks with local authorities and later issue a public apology. Rather than relying on online backlash alone, the case suggests a different future for fashion: one where communities have legal tools to protect their cultural heritage, and where inspiration comes with accountability, not just acknowledgment.
