Being raised in England with brown skin, a name that makes you pause and a culture that most know nothing about is an experience felt by many second-generation immigrants. We got teased for our ‘smelly’ food, for our ‘greasy’ hair and for the accents our family had. And yet you look around now, and there’s Indian influences everywhere in the fashion and beauty trends around us.
The ‘clean girl’ epidemic was brought to us largely in the past year, consisting of minimal makeup, a focus on healthy diet and an ‘effortless’ polished look. A primary aspect of the trend was the ‘slick back’ hair style, a low effort way to keep yourself looking refined by combing in a hair mask to enrich your hair with nutrients before you wash it.
I vividly remember my mother running oil through my hair on mornings, to strengthen the strands and reduce breakage and frizz, and lovingly tying it in a plait before walking me to school. When I arrived, I was informed by my peers that my hair smelled weird, and it looked greasy and unwashed, the implication that I wasn’t clean hanging in the air – and eventually I convinced my amma to stop, just so I wouldn’t have to deal with the comments that other kids flung at me. A decade later, and it’s trendy to slick back your hair, with various oils and masks to reduce any damage that has been caused.
The rebrand of Indian culture into a more palatable westernised version isn’t unique to slick back hair styles alone. If you’re scrolling on the fashion side of TikTok, you’re probably familiar with the ‘Scandinavian scarf’ debate that recently circulated online. The south Asian ‘dupatta’ is a long scarf staple in Indian fashion, traditionally draped over the head and shoulders to symbolise modesty and grace. Not only that, but it also became a symbol of resistance against the suppression faced by colonial Britain, worn during the Swadeshi and Non-Cooperation movements in India.
My favourite 2000s Bollywood movies highlighted the female stars showing a blend of westernised clothes, paired with the traditional dupatta, signalling the modernisation of tastes, and a new era for Indian cinema. The West, however, dismissed it as being “too ethnic” and “overly traditional”, only now to bring it back repackaged as Scandinavian, European and classy.
The erasure of our heritage and its deep meaning to our ancestors struggle for freedom from Britain is what incensed the South Asian community worldwide erasure happening in real time - incredibly similar to how it happened under colonial rule.
" I’m now comfortable enough to post photos of my cultural clothing on social media..."
The appreciation for our cultural clothing is a relatively recent phenomenon. I’m now comfortable enough to post photos of my cultural clothing on social media, a wide and gaping chasm to the young girl that was afraid to be seen wearing a dupatta and a lehenga – now repackaged by brands such as Oh Polly as a two-piece gown.
Mehndi, which you probably know as ‘henna’ is another example of our culture being repackaged and repurposed without any sense of cultural preservation. Traditionally worn by brides on their wedding day, it symbolises love, fertility and good luck, with the medicinal purpose of cooling the bride down to relieve her of any stress she may feel.
There remains a very strong belief that the deeper and darker the mehndi stain is, the stronger the love between the couple will be, with the added game of the bride hiding her groom’s name within the intricate patterns waiting for it to be found.
Nowadays, the paste is used for temporary tattoos, or drawing semi-permanent freckles on your face, treating it as a throwaway fashion accessory, rather than appreciating the history and significance of the art form.
I’m sure that next I’ll open my phone to a new ‘beauty mark’ trend placed on the middle of your forehead, suspiciously similar to the bindi which signifies wisdom, spiritual concentration and the retention of energy. Once, I was sarcastically asked if I was ‘recording from my forehead’ as the auspicious red dot apparently looked enough like a camera lens, a comment that like many others, I was forced to brush off lightly.
"There has been a resurgence in the belief that we, as immigrants, don’t belong here in the UK..."
There has been a resurgence in the belief that we, as immigrants, don’t belong here in the UK, despite the fact we contribute to the economy and that this is all I have ever known.
I’m too British to be Indian, and too Indian to be British, leaving me slightly alien wherever I go. And yet, you take the very things that you use to alienate us, repackage them to suit you, and sell them without care for our culture and heritage.
And so, I plead; the next time you hop on a fashion or beauty trend, evaluate where it came from, and whose culture it is that you are finally appreciating instead of disparaging at what feels, to us, like every turn.