When Did Homegrown Become A Luxury Label?

Have you ever clicked on an Instagram ad while scrolling, only to land on a website where a pre-draped saree costs ₹76,000? Or found yourself staring at a ₹42,000 dress and wondering when homegrown became another word for expensive? The pieces might be beautifully photographed, carefully styled and wrapped in the language of craftsmanship, conscious production and Indian design. But the question remains: what exactly is behind the price tag?

Not long ago, shopping homegrown meant discovering smaller labels that offered something different from the international brands filling malls. Now, some Indian labels are the brands filling our wish lists, with prices that can sit firmly in luxury territory. And the irony is that Indian consumers aren’t exactly unfamiliar with the building blocks of fashion. In places like Manish Market and Chandni Chowk, you can still find fabric, get something tailored and add the finishing touches yourself. That does not make every ₹5,000 outfit equivalent to a designer garment. But it does make a ₹30,000 polyester dress worth questioning.

If we’re being asked to pay designer-level prices, the product should offer designer-level value. A homegrown label does not get a free pass simply because its story is compelling. So where does that premium actually come from?

The Homegrown Premium

The funny thing is that homegrown doesn't always mean expensive. There are Indian labels selling well-made, design-led clothing, accessories and footwear at relatively accessible prices. What has changed is the cultural meaning of the word itself. Homegrown can now signal taste, discovery and a certain kind of insider status. The label has become aspirational even when the products themselves aren't necessarily luxury.

Mumbai-based CAI Store’s co-founder Dhanraj Minawala points to an interesting contradiction: consumers may admire Indian labels, but they still expect them to be cheaper. “If anything, when a consumer sees a homegrown brand, they expect that it should be more affordable,” he says. That expectation hasn't disappeared simply because Indian fashion has become more aspirational. If anything, it makes the premium harder to swallow. Why should a brand being Indian automatically make the customer more willing to pay?

Tanisha Dangaich, founder of Jaipur-based label Kashtan, is similarly wary of turning homegrown into a pricing shortcut. For her, Indian identity is not a reason for something to be expensive. “Value must be tangible in design, fabric, craft, fit, finishing,” she says. The story behind a brand can make you want the product. It shouldn't have to make you justify the price.

Craft Is Valuable. But So Is Knowing What You're Buying.

There is, of course, a lot that the customer doesn't see. A garment that looks simple on a website may have gone through multiple rounds of sampling, pattern-making, alterations and finishing before it reaches a wardrobe. Small-batch production also means those costs are spread across fewer pieces. That labour matters. But craft can also become a very convenient word. Hand embroidery, specialised weaving and skilled construction are tangible things. So is a piece being cut and sewn in a small workshop.

The consumer should be able to understand what they are paying for rather than being asked to take artisanal or handcrafted on faith. Puneet Gupta, whose Delhi label works across jewellery, bags and accessories, makes a similar point: the premium, he argues, should come from “the quality of the design, material, craftsmanship, time and individuality of the piece.” Being distinctly Indian, on its own, isn't enough.

And then there is where the product is actually made. Homegrown is not synonymous with made in India. An Indian brand can be designed here while manufacturing some or all of its products overseas. There is nothing inherently wrong with that. Global fashion has always worked this way. But if a label is using its Indian identity as part of its value proposition, the distinction becomes worth knowing. If a ₹30,000 outfit is made in Bangladesh or China, what exactly is the customer paying the premium for? And if a 100 per cent polyester dress costs roughly the same as a silk one, shouldn't the brand be able to explain that difference?

So, what are you actually paying for?

The material itself is often only part of the equation. The Postbox, a Chennai-based leather goods label that manufactures in its own unit, says leather accounts for roughly 10 to 25 per cent of the cost of one of its products, depending on the style. The rest can include hardware, construction, reinforcement, design development and prototyping. It complicates the idea that a high price must simply mean expensive raw material. But it also raises another question: how much of the final price is actually going towards the product?

No Nasties offers another version of the equation. Founder and CEO Apurva Kothari says organic cotton alone can add around 15 to 20 per cent to costs, while Fairtrade certification adds another layer through audits and supply-chain requirements. But the brand has deliberately kept its pricing accessible rather than turning sustainability into a luxury proposition. As Kothari puts it, “Nobody pays a premium for a promise. They pay for a t-shirt that’s still soft after fifty washes.” It is a useful test for any supposedly conscious product: does the thing itself justify the story around it?

Because there are other costs too, and consumers rarely get to see those numbers. There is product development, photography, packaging, warehouses, retail, salaries, returns, PR, and the increasingly expensive business of getting a product in front of you on Instagram in the first place. All of that is part of running a fashion label. But there is a difference between understanding that a business has overheads and accepting that every overhead automatically translates into product value. A beautiful campaign can make a dress desirable. It doesn't make the polyester silk.

The rise of Indian fashion is worth celebrating precisely because consumers have more choice than ever. But that should also mean becoming more demanding shoppers. If homegrown is going to function as a premium label, it should come with more information, not less. Tell us the fabric. Tell us where it was made. Tell us whether it was produced in 50 pieces or 5,000. Tell us what is actually handmade, who made it and what makes the construction different. Tell us why this dress costs ₹30,000 when another one costs ₹8,000.

Because the consumer isn't asking for everything to be cheap. They are asking a much more inconvenient question: if we're paying more, what exactly are we getting for it?