Poor Cherie Blair. In all her many years of well-intentioned sari and salwar kameez wearing, rarely has she managed to pull the look off with any real fashion kudos. The cuts were often unflattering and dated (stop trying to make the Nehru collar work, Cherie! A V-tipped neckline would be a much better fit), the colours were too gaudy, the fabric too cheap-looking. In short: she took the magpie approach to South Asian style by opting for the shiniest, brightest polyester mix possible and ended up looking, frankly, a bit rubbish.
Enter Sam Cam. Who, in one fell swoop of her sari pleats at Neasden temple this week, made it look like a doddle. For one, hers is a classic Banarasi number – stylish, understated and with chic kaam (silk embroidery) that doesn't so much show her great taste as it does her good sense: she asked an actual Indian friend and borrowed an outfit. Well played, Sam! Not for you the rip-off merchants of Southall or the cringey "east meets west" vibe that Liz Hurley once spectacularly plundered (a topless sari, Liz? Really?). Full brownie points for the PM's wife and the obvious hours she spent practising her Diwali look – because this isn't an outfit for the awkward, it takes forever to achieve the elegant sari walk and glide, rather than shuffle, despite being wrapped, hip to ankle, in yards of trippable fabric.
But the very best examples of cultural appropriation come, as everything else fashion-related right now, from the 90s. Think Diana, on her trips to Pakistan, in any number of her tailor-made, couture salwar kameezes or, for the gold standard, Jemima Khan: always perfectly accessorised, never caught with an unfashionable kameez length. Just exquisite.
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