On Monday, we woke to the slightly unbelievable news that Christian Dior had settled out of court with the Indian company People Tree – four months to the date that People Tree called out the global mega-brand’s calm theft of a unique block-print, hand-drawn by Orijit Sen 15 years earlier. On the phone, Orijit Sen, an owner of People Tree, told me he was elated. Settlements of this sort can take years, and this one makes him feel especially hopeful. As part of the settlement, People Tree signed a non-disclosure agreement, limiting what they can reveal about Dior’s conduct or what they paid, but Sen is able – and happy – to talk about what they plan to do with the windfall.
Twenty years ago, Sen and his wife Gurpreet Sidhu bought a massive old house in North Goa. Sen, Sidhu and their daughter Pakhi ended up living there, but it was “far too big for the three of us”. They dreamed of turning it into a full-fledged studio, with room for artisans, craftspeople and workshops. They had depended on loans and friendly contributions to even begin rebuilding – the Dior settlement has changed all that. The house they are building is, and has always been, called ‘Blessings’.
Architectural drawing of People Tree’s studio and workshop, already under construction in Goa, which will now be completed with the funds from the Dior settlement. Courtesy: Orijit Sen
Garments like the ones People Tree designs “tell the story of a community”, the Romanian lawyer Monica Boța Moisin told me in a conversation – they are examples of “traditional cultural expression” and deserve to be protected by law. Seeing no international legal framework to deal with these cases, Moisin stepped in. She has pioneered a field of law, cultural intellectual property, that tries to make more tangible the “very fine line between finding inspiration and reinterpreting cultural symbolism”, the latter being a route by which profits go exclusively to the fashion house.
“The difference between cultural fashion and ethnic fashion,” Moisin said, “is that the latter uses design without the consent of the source community, while cultural fashion invites participation.” We need to “start seeing the artisans as partners,” and in doing so, to “ensure the transmission of culture from generation to generation” while collaborating with communities, artisans and tribes – making the fashion industry a vital partner in their survival.
This year, we learned once again that smaller design houses need partners in their survival, too – and sometimes those are waiting in unexpected places. Sen used Facebook to thank everyone who had stood by People Tree, saying their collective voice had made all the difference; he also thanked the powers of social media (admitting it was a rare moment that he felt like doing so). We’re so used to thinking of Instagram (and let’s not even start on Facebook) failing its public – think proliferating ads, skewed viewing patterns and their shut-down of radical accounts like @gentlemenofindia1 that named and shamed Indian men involved in online harassment and rape threats. It’s good to see the platform finally come to a use other than the perfection of the selfie.
Recently, an Instagram account called @DietSabya (short for Sabyasachi, and a satirical copy of international account @DietPrada) began calling out Indian designers for copying other designers. Some argue that @DietSabya isn’t what the fashion industry needs, and I’m forced to agree that its ditzy, anonymous, negative tone may not be the best for discussing plagiarism. But accounts like this keep the conversation from staying too highbrow. It’s what gets celebrities to start calling up designers and stylists, and demanding to know why they’ve been dressed in a plagiarised outfit. It’s only when the mockery begins, when the numbers drop, that designers will be more careful.
Some will any retort as follows:
– But look at Thai/Indian markets – everything is copied.
– Zara and H&M copy designers.
– People ask their local tailors to copy things from magazines.
The difference between Dior, Zara and your local masterji is pretty large, even if all three are capable of producing similar end results. For starters, the word “designer”. If you call yourself that, you’d better be designing work, as opposed to having designs on other people’s work.
The street-sellers of Palika Bazaar and Khao San do make a pittance selling knock-offs. And if you’ve ever been to Kathmandu, you’ve seen the adventure stores selling gear apparently from American trekking brand the North Face – all of it counterfeit. The brand has a store there, for those who have the funds, but most people don’t. Nepali versions are a tenth the price and well made. So what did TNF do? Trekker lore says it is aware of the piracy, but chooses to do nothing about it. When store manager Sabina Sakya was asked about it by the Nepali Times, she said, “They sell what they need to in order to make a good living and I respect that.” And when someone reaches the top of a mountain and posts a selfie – all you see is The North Face logo.
In fashion, as everywhere, economics and ethics are easily at loggerheads. In TNF’s case, they found a way to allow both to thrive, and what @DietSabya points out, maybe crassly, is that even big designers can profit immensely from copied goods. What’s bad – as in the Dior-People Tree case – is when the copycat makes more money than the original. What’s worst is when the designer of the original is someone truly in need – and when the rip-off goes upward, to the benefit of design houses with huge wealth and recognition, rather than down.
Designers asking for credit aren’t berserk, as their critics would have you believe. And people aren’t plagiarising Coco Chanel every time they design a women’s pantsuit. Plagiarism is the joining of elements to mimic an exactness, without attributing the original source as inspiration. Every maroon, printed Dior dress is not a copy of Orijit Sen. But a maroon, cotton dress printed with a flower and two yoga poses in Sen’s hand is. The message People Tree sent out is clear – own up and pay up, so that we can pay it forward.
Karuna Ezara Parikh is a writer and poet living in Kolkata. You can view more of her work and poetry at the following: instagram.com/ezarawrites; thecalcuttachromosome.com; and inkimageideology.blogspot.com