Indigenous Art Meets Fashion: Celebrating First Nations Designers

Picture this: a runway illuminated by lights, models striding confidently in garments that tell stories older than the country they’re walking in. The patterns aren’t just designs—they’re ancestral whispers, woven into fabric by First Nations designers who are reclaiming their heritage and reshaping the global fashion landscape. This isn’t just about clothes; it’s about identity, resistance, and art that refuses to be silenced. In this blog, we’ll explore how Indigenous creators are blending millennia-old traditions with cutting-edge style, why their work matters, and how you can support this movement without stepping into the murky waters of cultural appropriation. Let’s dive in.


1. The Roots of Indigenous Art: More Than Just Aesthetic

Indigenous art is a living, breathing archive of history, spirituality, and connection to land. For First Nations designers, motifs like dot paintings, animal totems, or intricate beadwork aren’t just decorative—they’re coded with meaning. Take the Haida people of the Pacific Northwest, whose iconic formline designs symbolize community and balance. Or the bold geometric patterns of Australia’s Aboriginal artists, mapping sacred sites and Dreamtime stories. When these symbols grace a jacket or a handbag, they carry the weight of generations. Yet, for too long, these designs were appropriated by fast fashion brands, stripped of context and sold as “trendy.” Today, Indigenous creators are flipping the script, using fashion as a platform for cultural preservation and activism.


2. Meet the Trailblazers: First Nations Designers to Know

From Canada’s remote Arctic communities to the bustling streets of Sydney, First Nations designers are making waves. Bethany Yellowtail (Crow/Northern Cheyenne) merges Indigenous beadwork with sleek silhouettes, while Australia’s Clothing the Gaps collaborates with Aboriginal artists to create streetwear that shouts, “Always Was, Always Will Be Aboriginal Land.” Then there’s Lesley Hampton (Anishinaabe), whose sequined gowns have graced the Toronto International Film Festival, blending powwow regalia glamour with red-carpet-ready drama. These aren’t just designers—they’re storytellers, educators, and advocates.


3. Cultural Appropriation vs. Appreciation: Walking the Tightrope

Let’s address the elephant in the room: that time a major brand slapped a “tribal print” on a bikini and called it “exotic.” Cultural appropriation isn’t just offensive—it’s theft. First Nations designers face a double bind: fighting to protect their intellectual property while educating consumers on ethical engagement. Appreciation, on the other hand, looks like hiring Indigenous artists as collaborators (not just consultants), crediting sources, and sharing profits. Brands like Arizona’s Beyond Buckskin and New Zealand’s Kiri Nathan lead by example, proving that respect and stunning design go hand in hand.


4. Sustainability: The Original Indigenous Practice

Before “eco-friendly” was a hashtag, Indigenous communities lived sustainably. First Nations designers are reclaiming these practices, using organic materials like nettle fiber, caribou hide, and plant-based dyes. Tania Larsson (Gwich’in), a jewelry designer, sources reclaimed copper to craft pieces that mirror her ancestors’ tools. Meanwhile, Inuk designer Victoria Kakuktinniq transforms sealskin—a material central to Inuit survival—into haute couture parkas that defy stereotypes. Their work challenges the fashion industry to look beyond token “green” initiatives and learn from systems that have sustained ecosystems for millennia.


5. From Runways to Resistance: Fashion as Activism

In 2020, Mi’kmaq designer Sho Sho Esquiro sent models down the runway in garments emblazoned with “Land Back”—a powerful statement amid Canada’s pipeline protests. For many First Nations designers, fashion is protest. It’s reclaiming traditional regalia once banned by colonial governments and reimagining it for today. It’s using T-shirts to spread messages about Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women (MMIW) or residential school survivors. Every stitch is a step toward healing and visibility.


6. Collaborations That Get It Right

When done ethically, collaborations can amplify Indigenous voices. Take Target Australia’s partnership with 50+ Aboriginal artists, which directed profits back to their communities. Or Lacoste’s 2019 campaign, replacing its iconic crocodile logo with 10 endangered species illustrations by First Nations artists. These projects succeed because they center Indigenous leadership—not just aesthetics.


7. How to Support First Nations Designers (Without Being Cringe)

Skip the “tribal print” fast fashion knockoffs. Instead, follow and fund Indigenous-owned brands like Section 35 (Native streetwear) or AARLI (Aboriginal-owned activewear). Attend Indigenous fashion weeks in Toronto, Santa Fe, or Darwin. Most importantly, listen. Read the artist’s story behind that patterned scarf. Understand that buying a piece isn’t just a purchase—it’s an act of solidarity.


8. The Business Hurdles: Access, Funding, and Recognition

Despite their talent, many First Nations designers face systemic barriers. Limited access to fabric mills, racist stereotypes (“Why don’t you just stick to crafts?”), and retailers taking hefty cuts from their sales. Organizations like Indigenous Fashion Projects (Australia) and The Indigenous Haute Couture Collective (Canada) are working to change this, providing grants, mentorships, and global platforms.


9. Indigenous Futurism: Where Tradition Meets Tech

Imagine a holographic jingle dress or 3D-printed turtle shell necklaces. Designers like Sho Sho Esquiro are embracing tech, using digital printing to scale traditional patterns without losing their essence. Others incorporate augmented reality into runway shows, where scanning a garment with your phone reveals its cultural backstory. This isn’t just innovation—it’s decolonizing the future.


10. Kids’ Fashion: Passing the Pride

Brands like Little Korboose (Anishinaabe-owned) create kids’ wear adorned with woodland floral designs, teaching the next generation to wear their culture proudly. It’s a rebuttal to generations of Indigenous children forced into Western attire in residential schools. Now, a toddler’s onesie can be a declaration: “We’re still here.”


11. Global Influence: First Nations Designers on the World Stage

From the Met Gala to Paris Fashion Week, Indigenous design is having a moment—but it’s not a “trend.” Maori designer Kiri Nathan dressed New Zealand’s Prime Minister for a meeting with the British Royal Family, blending koru (fern) motifs with tailored elegance. In 2023, Inuk designer Victoria’s Arctic Fashion showcased at Milan Fashion Week, proving that seal fur can be both traditional and avant-garde.


12. Your Role in the Story: What’s Next?

The rise of First Nations designers isn’t just a fashion shift—it’s a cultural reckoning. By supporting their work, you’re voting for a world where Indigenous knowledge isn’t erased but elevated. Follow them on social media, cite their influence, and challenge brands that appropriate. As Cree designer Samantha Kakakaway says, “We’re not a costume. We’re a culture.”


Key Points to Remember

  • Indigenous designs carry deep cultural significance; they’re not just “patterns.”
  • Support First Nations designers by buying directly from Indigenous-owned brands.
  • Cultural appreciation involves credit, collaboration, and profit-sharing.
  • Sustainability is inherent to many Indigenous design practices.
  • Fashion is a powerful tool for Indigenous activism and storytelling.

FAQ
Q: How can I tell if a brand is Indigenous-owned?
A: Check their “About” page for ownership details or certifications like the Indigenous Art Code (Australia) or Authentically Indigenous (Canada).

Q: Is it okay to wear Indigenous designs if I’m not Indigenous?
A: Yes—if purchased directly from First Nations designers who intend their work for broader audiences. Avoid sacred symbols (e.g., ceremonial regalia).

Q: Why are Indigenous-made garments often pricier?
A: They prioritize ethical labor, sustainable materials, and fair pay for artists—not exploitative fast fashion practices.

Disclaimer
This article aims to highlight First Nations designers respectfully and accurately. Cultural contexts and practices vary widely among Indigenous communities. Always engage with specific artists’ guidelines and histories. Prices and brand availability mentioned are subject to change.


Final Thought
Next time you slip on a jacket or clutch a handbag, ask: Whose story does this tell? First Nations designers invite us to wear history, hope, and resilience—thread by thread. Let’s choose fashion that matters. 🌍

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