Luxury brands in haute water: Scandals and cultural slip-ups threaten fashion's shine

It’s been a rough few days for some big names in luxury fashion. The latest to land in trouble is Louis Vuitton, the crown jewel of the LVMH group. According to reports, Dutch authorities are investigating the brand for suspected money laundering after several LV stores in the Netherlands allegedly accepted around $3.5 million in cash from a Chinese customer -- far beyond what’s legally allowed -- over nearly two years. With the luxury market already slowing down, this kind of controversy is the last thing any brand needs.

And that’s not all for LVMH. Just recently, Loro Piana—another ultra-luxury label under the group—was caught up in a labour abuse scandal. Reports claim that workers were made to clock up to 90 hours a week for very little pay. An Italian court stepped in and placed the brand under judicial administration. Loro Piana has pointed fingers at one of its subcontractors, claiming it was unaware of the harsh working conditions.But the court doesn’t seem convinced just yet. The brand will stay under watch until it proves it’s playing by the rules. Last year, Dior had also come under scrutiny, again over labour issues tied to two subcontractors. Even if these brands weren’t directly involved, the legal spotlight is now firmly on them.

Just days after Prada sent models strutting down the runway in Kolhapuri chappals—without so much as a nod to the rich cultural heritage behind the iconic Indian footwear—the fashion world finds itself embroiled in yet another storm. This time, it’s Dior, yet another brand from LVMH, under fire. The luxury label’s recent menswear showcase at Paris Fashion Week featured a lavish notch-lapel, two-button coat adorned with intricate metallic embellishment. The coat, priced at a jaw-dropping $200,000 (approximately ₹1.7 crore), featured what appears to be unmistakably mukaish work—an exquisite and age-old Indian embroidery technique.

And yet, much like Prada’s silent treatment of Kolhapuri chappals, Dior, too, offered no credit, context, or acknowledgement of the embroidery’s roots.

For those unfamiliar, mukaish embroidery is a centuries-old art form, traditionally practised in regions like Lucknow. The technique involves inserting thin, flattened strips of metal—often silver or gold—into fabric and twisting them into delicate, shimmering patterns. Historically paired with other intricate crafts like chikankari, mukaish adds understated opulence and sparkle to textiles. Today, while artisans may use a range of modern metallic threads, the soul of the craft remains untouched.

This tradition of Indian artisanship quietly powering European couture isn’t new. For decades, many luxury fashion houses have relied on Indian craftsmen to bring their embroidery visions to life. Often, people based out of India and elsewhere in the world act as intermediaries, orchestrating the transfer of heritage skills across borders, though the Indian artisans behind the work remain largely anonymous to the consumer.

With Dior’s new creative director, Jonathan Anderson—who succeeded Maria Grazia Chiuri just last year—this recent collection was his debut. Chiuri herself had chosen the Gateway of India as the backdrop for one of her earlier presentations, a move that hinted at an appreciation for Indian aesthetics. But Anderson’s first outing may have missed the mark on cultural respect. If, as suspected, Indian hands were behind the shimmering embellishments on that $200,000 coat, their absence from the narrative is all the more glaring.

Cultural borrowing is not inherently problematic—fashion, after all, thrives on inspiration. However, when brands draw heavily from deeply rooted traditions without even a mention, it begins to resemble appropriation more than admiration. Credit isn't just a courtesy; it's a recognition of history, heritage, and humanity.

In an era where consumers are increasingly conscious of not just what they wear but also who made it and where it came from, acknowledging the origins of craftsmanship isn't optional—it's essential. It’s also a chance for luxury brands to elevate their ethical standing and to educate their clientele on the true value behind the sparkle.

In today’s hyper-connected world, a social media storm — like the ones Prada weathered over Kolhapuri chappals or Dior for mukaish embroidery—is damaging enough. But when the thunder rolls into courtrooms, as it did for Louis Vuitton in the Netherlands and Loro Piana in Italy, the fallout is far more severe. For luxury houses already grappling with slumping sales and shrinking margins, stumbling into controversy isn't just reckless—it could well be a brand’s suicide in slow motion.