I’ve been wearing Kolhapuri Chappals for 20 years, long before they became “Prada-cool.” My friends can vouch for me: these sandals have been my go-to at the beach, around town with summer dresses, and beyond. This, I should admit, is simply because I’ve never had any desire to wear plastic flip-flops, no matter how trendy, “cool,” or comfortable they’re said to be.
My chappals were never particularly comfortable either. I bought them in India, every couple of years, during visits to my Ayurvedic resort and doctor near Bangalore. I'd pick up three or four pairs at the same market stall for about $5 to $10 each, depending on the style—natural brown or color-dyed.
Now, thanks to Prada’s recent “endorsement” (let’s call it that), Kolhapuris are not only suddenly desirable, but also far more expensive all over the internet. I’m happy to realise that my fashion eye was alert and ahead of the curve. I’m also genuinely glad that Indian artisans are finally receiving global attention, and, I hope, more business.
But I can’t help wondering: did Prada really think they could get away with it unnoticed? Why is it that credit, collaboration, and fair practice always seem to come after a brand is caught? Wouldn't it be easier, not to mention better PR, and just nicer to acknowledge the source up front, and stop treating cultural appropriation like an optional favour?
And honestly, did they really believe we’re all so blind and dumb that we wouldn’t notice?
Now that Kolhapuris are officially acknowledged, I’ll continue wearing my original (slightly rough, sort of uncomfortable) pairs with pride. Let’s see what Prada’s “collaboration” ends up selling for, after costs, tax, and a bit of self-congratulation.
Love this post -
With ref. your comment :
" But I can’t help wondering: did Prada really think they could get away with it unnoticed? "
I would postulate that if you climb to the top of the Shard and look through binoculars to the glittering sun as it rises in the East, you might just catch sight of the last bedraggled tail-feathers of the solitary fuck that Prada don't actually give about being caught out in this shabby, but firmly entrenched, practice.
Too big. Too arrogant. Big fashion, eh ?