India Is Making Luxury Fashion for the World

Framed by the Gateway of India’s imposing stone arch, dozens of bejeweled models walked a very unusual runway this year, passing carpets of marigold and a front row stacked with billionaire families and Bollywood glitterati.

The show’s location, in a tony part of Mumbai, was a bold look for Christian Dior, the French fashion house controlled by Bernard Arnault, one of the world’s richest people. The March unveiling of Dior’s fall womenswear line was a deliberate ode to a mostly unsung part of the supply chain, and a nod to the rising wealth and clout of economies far beyond Europe.

Few elite international brands have ever unveiled collections in India, a symptom of an enduring story about the almost $200 billion market for luxury fashion: that garment production is centralized in Parisian ateliers. But unbeknown to most consumers, top European labels have, for years, taken many orders to developing countries, including India, Vietnam and China.

As Paris Fashion Week unfolds this week, pressure is growing for brands like Dior to do more than they are currently doing to recognize the highly skilled artisans in Mumbai and suppliers elsewhere — the hidden hands shaping red carpet looks for Cannes and the Met Gala, and gowns worn by celebrities like Beyoncé and Lady Gaga. Among those showing their pieces in Paris this week are labels like Hermès and Balmain, which have moved ahead of the pack in crediting India on some garments.

“Haute couture is practically all made in India nowadays,” said Isabel Marant, the French designer, whose eponymous label was one of the first high-end fashion names to acknowledge producing on the subcontinent.

Tighter scrutiny of global supply chains and social media activism are driving change, pushing luxury brands to join fast fashion labels in disclosing the finer print of their work. In June, the European Parliament voted in favor of new due diligence rules that will open up large clothing companies to lawsuits and legal penalties if they fail to identify and address human rights abuses and environmental degradation in their supply chains.

The directive’s final wording is now being hammered out with EU member states, mirroring efforts in the US and elsewhere to improve visibility of how clothing is made — and close loopholes used to obscure the source of everything from cotton to diamonds.

Dior’s India-inspired show, spearheaded by its designer Maria Grazia Chiuri, was a milestone in a profound, if uneasy, evolution within the world of high-end apparel. For years, luxury fashion houses muted their business ties to developing nations. Executives guarded the perceived value embedded in a “Made in Europe” provenance, worried about the optics of making dresses in distant slums — and the risk that consumers could also mistake them for counterfeits. Dior is shifting that narrative by announcing its India supplier, training artisans and working to boost salaries.

Yet despite the brand’s social media blitz about its India show, a handful of key pieces from the Mumbai collection didn’t contain “Made in India” labels in the Paris flagship store months after the March unveiling, including garments where exporters estimated that more than 90% of labor was completed on the subcontinent.

To give one example, a knee-length jacket embellished entirely with tiny mirrors, which in late June retailed for almost €43,000 (about $45,000), took more than 2,000 hours to embroider in India, according to multiple exporters in Mumbai. Seamstresses estimated that the piece then underwent less than 100 hours of stitching and finishing touches in Europe. And yet, the garment carries a “Made in France” tag, reflecting European Union regulations that define the country of origin as the place where the last “substantial” transformation occurred — not where the bulk of labor was completed.

“It’s very easy to manufacture everything in India and sew the buttons in France and say it’s made in France,” Marant said, speaking generally about what she believes some high-end European fashion players do. “I think it’s despicable.”

A Dior spokesperson said embroidery completed in India for the fall collection was a “minor part of the operations, the principal one being the tailoring that was executed in France or Italy.” Though the mirrored coat is an “exceptional piece” that showcases India’s savoir-faire, “nevertheless, it was made in France, which justifies the dedicated ‘Made in’ label,” the spokesperson said in an emailed response to questions.

Chanakya International, the Indian export house that embroidered the Mumbai collection, declined to comment.

For many in the industry, the simple garment tag illustrates a tense divide between the corporatized old guard and a wing of progressive creatives, who feel transparency around suppliers and clothing labels helps protect workers. Haute couture is one of France and Italy’s most important cultural and economic exports. To cede ground to India, the logic goes, is to diminish a point of great national pride — and jeopardize profits in a status-obsessed industry where many shoppers associate developing nations with shoddy quality, despite their often expansive histories of artistic excellence.

“Luxury and cosmetics have one singularity: If it’s not produced in France, it won’t sell abroad,” said Bruno Le Maire, France’s finance minister, in a speech this week at an event for L’Oréal SA in Paris.

Though some brands like Dior have started publicly acknowledging their work in India or have even moved stitching — long a French specialty — to the developing world, many still avoid finishing garments in poorer countries, allowing them to keep those names off their labels, interviews with more than two dozen designers, executives and artisans reveal. They don’t mention these factories in sustainability reports or supplier lists, and in some cases, ask export houses to sign confidentiality agreements.

“A lot of brands play with the rules,” said Maximiliano Modesti, the owner of Les Ateliers 2M, an export house in Mumbai that counts some of the world’s biggest brands among its clients. “There is this fantasy that you cannot sell a luxury product with a ‘Made in India’ label.”

But the profile of the luxury shopper is diversifying, adding a fresh propulsive force to the equation. LVMH Moet Hennessy Louis Vuitton SE, one of Europe’s most valuable companies and the owner of Dior, had revenue of €42.2 billion in the first half of this year, driven in particular by growth in Asia. During that period, LVMH derived 41% of its sales there, far more than other regions, including Europe, which contributed 23%.

Rachid Mohamed Rachid, chairman of the fashion house Valentino, said adopting an India garment tag “helps boost national pride,” which may end up being beneficial for brands since India is the “next frontier market for luxury” with its population of 1.4 billion. Last year, Valentino opened its first boutique in the country, and Balenciaga is set to follow.

“Luxury brands that insist on not mentioning the origins are lacking confidence in their status and power,” Rachid said. “I believe the future trend is going to be more transparency on production and workmanship origins.”

As the skill died out in Europe, the South Asian nation cornered the market. From the 1980s, luxury brands have relied on India for much of their intricate hand embroidery. Annual exports jumped tenfold since the late 1990s, exceeding $250 million before the pandemic, according to India’s trade ministry. A government trust valued the broader textiles and apparel industry at more than $150 billion.

India’s connection to Western luxury brands has been hushed for years, partly because of challenges regulating the lowest rung of the supply chain. When deadlines are tight, Indian export houses — which are safe, well-ventilated facilities in Mumbai — subcontract, taking embroidery orders to small factories where working conditions are often worse.

During a visit in June to one subcontractor, up a staircase stained with chewing tobacco, dozens of artisans used needles to embroider unassembled designer handbags, according to the manager. Monthly salaries hover around 30,000 rupees, or $360.

To save on rent, some artisans sleep at the factory, where they worked without air conditioning as Mumbai’s heat index peaked around 45 degrees Celsius (113 degrees Fahrenheit).

“We were slaves to the British before independence and we are still slaves,” said one of the factory’s karigars. “The only difference is foreigners don’t beat us anymore.”

To avoid scrutiny of these factories, few luxury brands disclose all of their suppliers, according to Liv Simpliciano, London-based policy and research manager at Fashion Revolution, an organization that grades apparel companies on their transparency. Kering SA’s Gucci and LVMH’s Fendi are among the luxury names that scored the highest on supply chain traceability in the group’s index.

Tactics to blur supply chains vary. Finishing India-made garments in wealthier countries is a commonly exploited loophole. Luxury apparel companies also purchase embroidery in “components” — essentially bulk packages of small patches, even if they plan to cover an entire garment with them. Exporters say this allows designers to sidestep attribution issues they may face if they order larger sheets.

And some brands that do credit developing countries, often because of export rules, still don’t play up the connection.

Since the 2000s, Prada, the Italian fashion house, has manufactured footwear in Vietnam, according to a longtime employee involved in procurement. The Prada employee, who requested anonymity to discuss the company, said the brand works with two main suppliers in Hanoi and Hai Phong.

While Prada has credited Vietnam on some shoes, the company doesn’t list any Vietnamese facilities on its official suppliers list, which mentions mostly Italian factories and an “extensive network” of external manufacturers.

A Prada spokesperson said the supplier list “is not yet exhaustive, being the group’s first transparency step on its supply chain.” The brand is committed to “updating it on a regular basis.”

Gayatri Khanna’s factory, set amidst the crumbling shells of Mumbai’s former cotton mills, illustrates the evolution. For most of the day, her export house, Milaaya Embroideries, is going full throttle. Over two floors, dozens of artisans lean over stretched canvases, punching beads into designer gowns and decorating heart-shaped purses with spiky, blood-red embellishments.

More than two decades after founding the business, Khanna now has offices on three continents and a client list numbering around 150. The factory walls are dotted with photographs of celebrities wearing her garments, along with logos for Versace, Balmain and Giorgio Armani.

In recent years, Milaaya’s orders have roughly tripled, partly because Western brands have moved more of their production to India to lower costs. Khanna sources materials from all over the world, including feathers from New York, fabrics from China, Italy or France, and beading from Mumbai’s local markets.

“For a lower cost, it’s better to have a one-stop shop,” she said.

Balmain is among those that now stitch clothing at Milaaya. Some of its pieces also carry a “Made in India” tag, joining the occasional ultra-lux name like Hermès, which credits India on its ponchos, scarves and €42,000 rugs, and younger labels like Isabel Marant, which produces around 40% of its clothing in the country.

Modesti, who founded the export house Les Ateliers 2M in 2000, recalled a conversation with a former chief executive of a major French fashion house, who said putting “Made in India” on its garments would “completely destroy the value.” In the 2010s, Modesti said he cut business ties with Oscar de la Renta, the American designer, because the label wouldn’t publicly credit India on gowns that were entirely embroidered in Mumbai.

Hermès, in particular, emboldened Modesti to put his foot down. He said the French brand started crediting India around 2007, prompting him to stop taking on clients who refused to acknowledge working in Mumbai.

“I had been fighting with everybody to put on that bloody ‘Made in India,’” he said. “And suddenly, Hermès, who could have lied, because the silk was French and the print was French, was writing ‘Made in India.’”

When Modesti asked the head of the silk collection about the rationale, she answered simply: “The major component is made in India.”

A spokesperson for Hermès said the brand looks for partners that have a “rare excellent” know-how, and that includes embroidery workers in India, a country the company has cultivated a relationship with for over 20 years.

Balmain and Oscar de la Renta didn’t respond to multiple requests for comment. Some pieces sold online by Oscar de la Renta now credit India.

In a promotional documentary about the making of the show, Dior pulls back the curtain. One segment takes viewers to workshops in southern India, where fabric is weaved with handlooms. Another scene shows Dior’s tailors in Paris cutting out panels of intricate embroidery. The fabric is draped on mannequins and readied for stitching.

Apart from the show, Chanakya International, which regularly works on garments for Dior, opened a “living museum” at one of its facilities in Mumbai, where karigars demonstrated their techniques. Maria Grazia Chiuri, Dior’s womenswear designer, wrote on Instagram that working with Chanakya had allowed her to “understand the potential of embroidery as an art form.”

On March 30, an intercontinental guest list took their seats near the Gateway of India. To the throb of a tabla, models with slicked hair filed through a massive Toran, a door hanging that welcomes guests. Out came 99 looks, a swirl of iridescent minidresses and billowy jackets with Nehru collars.

Rahul Mishra, a fashion designer, said India’s growing economic importance has made the world’s most-populous nation impossible to keep in the shadows. In 2020, Mishra became the first Indian to showcase at Paris Haute Couture Week, a fact that astonished him. Now, he’s in the company of two others.

Last month, Mishra showcased a collection dedicated to India’s embroiderers. In the ballroom of the JW Marriott, on the outskirts of Delhi, models posed in saris and kurtas emblazoned with the faces of craftsmen from Mishra’s factories.

At the end of the show, artisans stood near the runway as the crowd roared with applause. Stamped on every garment were the words “Made in India.”

“The more we step out into the world, and demand to be acknowledged, the greater the possibilities for everyone,” Mishra said.

— With assistance by Advait Palepu, Malavika Kaur Makol, Linh Vu Nguyen, and Frances Schwartzkopff

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Updates with comments from French Finance Minister Bruno Le Maire in 15th paragraph.