In nearly every Indian household, there is a jhola, a humble cloth shoulder bag. It is soft, collapsible, and durable enough to carry groceries, books, vegetables, or even a tiffin box. For decades, this humble bag worked its magic without being appreciated. It doesn’t require zippers, chains, or branded labels. Just plain cloth material sewn together with love and intent.
The jhola is more than a bag; it’s India. It embodies minimalism, sustainability, and local artisanship. On Indian streets, in Indian markets, and in Indian classrooms, the jhola has always been home. But today, it’s discovered a space where no one anticipated it: an upscale global boutique in America.
When the World Noticed Our Jhola
Recently, a worldwide fashion surprise happened that left everyone shocked. American upscale department store Nordstrom put up for sale an extremely plain-looking jhola, and not for ₹100, but for a staggering $48 (approximately ₹4,000)!
The bag, marketed as an “Indian Souvenir Bag,” is produced by a Japanese company called Puebco. It resembles the bags that we find on a regular basis in Indian stores, produced from recycled fabric and emblazoned with Hindi names such as “Chetak Sweets” or “Ramesh Namkeen.” The type of bag that is normally used to transport snacks or groceries was now being marketed as a “cultural fashion accessory.”
Internet Reaction: “Are You Serious?”
The moment Indian users realized this online, the net was filled with outrage reactions. People were shocked, amused, and some were even upset.
“Who is paying ₹4,000 for a jhola?” asked one social media user. Another cracked a joke, “Mummy gave me a jhola in college. I should have saved it; I’d be rich by now!”
Memes started trending on Twitter. Some depicted individuals selling jholas outside Nordstrom for a “discounted ₹300.” Others compared it to designer products overpriced. But beneath the humor, there was an underlying question: is it a joke, or is Indian culture being exploited?
Is This Cultural Appreciation or Cultural Appropriation?
Others are pleased that something so entrenched in Indian culture is finally receiving international acclaim. “The world is finally loving Indian sustainability and style,” one fashion influencer penned.
Others disagree. “This is cultural appropriation,” said one Twitter user. “Companies are borrowing Indian things, renaming them, raising the price, and not crediting the people who actually designed them.
And to be honest, there’s some merit in both opinions.
Why Is the Jhola So Special?
Unlike plastic or leather bags, jholas are environmentally friendly. They’re typically made of cotton or khadi. They can be washable, long-lasting, and usually handmade by local artisans or small industries. Using a jhola, you’re avoiding plastic, supporting local industry, and being sustainable.
In fact, the jhola has come to symbolize the Indian middle class: cheap, convenient, and reliable. For generations, students lugged it to college, uncles lugged it to the market, and mothers used it for daily shopping.
And the best part? No two jholas are alike. Some bear Bollywood images, some political slogans, and some simply the name of a local snack brand. It’s not just fashion; it’s a moving encyclopedia of Indian culture.
When Local Becomes “Exotic”
This is not the first time something like this has happened. Simple Indian items have been repackaged and sold globally for crazy prices. Remember when haldi (turmeric) became “golden latte”? Or when traditional Indian copper lotas were sold as “ayurvedic water bottles” abroad?
It’s nice that the world wants to know about Indian traditions. But it turns out to be unjust when foreign businesses reap profits without giving credit to the origins, having respect for the culture, or benefiting the communities that originally made these things happen.
The Irony of It All
The jhola being retailed at ₹4,000 in a high-end store is ironic if you consider the fact that those who actually use it on a daily basis may never set foot in the said store. It is a sign of how the same item can be viewed differently depending on context and location.
To the Indian public, the jhola is ordinary. But to a foreign audience, it’s “vintage,” “cultural,” “sustainable,” and “exotic.” This difference in perspective is what makes it marketable in the West.
Final Thoughts: Own the Narrative
As Indians, we should be proud of our culture, our products, and our traditions. But we also need to learn to speak for ourselves. Rather than sit and wait for Western brands to repackage our identity, we should patronize our local businesses, market Indian artisans, and accord traditional items the respect they have earned, both at home and abroad.
Global popularity of the jhola is fine, if only we don’t forget its origins. For each “Indian Souvenir Bag” sold overseas, there is a tailor in a dingy shop, a dadi who sewed cloth into form, and a culture that prefers substance over spectacle.
Let the jhola fly around the globe, but let us ensure that it carries our narrative with it.
