If, as the late designer Karl Lagerfeld of French couture house Chanel once spluttered, “trendy is the last stage before tacky”, then there seems to be no difference between the once cutting-edge, irreverent political journalism and cloying, adoring fashion journalism.

In the last fortnight, two fashion stories hit the news. The first was an accusation of body shaming by a doctor bride against employees of leading couturier Tarun Tahiliani. The second was a letter by the grande dames of traditional crafts to Sabyasachi Mukherjee, the master wizard of fashion business, for letting down traditional artisans by dodging credit, employment and compensation, even as Sabyasachi used traditional motifs in his sold-out collection for global high street brand H&M.

Both events should have pushed fashion hacks to leap up and investigate the stories, just as sharp political hacks once did. Instead, all we had was a dutiful cut-and-paste job of what the bride, Tanaya Narendra, popularly known on social media as Dr Cuterus – oh okay, we get the feminine pelvic thrust – had to say when she went bridal shopping at one of Tahiliani’s stores in Delhi.

Narendra said she was body shamed when “all kinds of weird comments” were thrown at her about her “double chin” and “belly showing”.

Tahiliani’s reply – comprising an explanation and apology – was also piously reported, that “if our communication of stock availability, timelines needed for production and customisation has made the clients feel even the slightest not welcome and acknowledged, then we are truly sorry because that is not and will never be the intent”.

It says a lot about the fashion media in the country that the whole communication was done on Instagram by all, not broken in newspapers or on television by journalists. It would seem that the mainstream media – that worshipfully and unquestioningly reports on fashion designers and their fashion with lavish, glossy spreads in their daily lifestyle supplements – has lost all credibility, as designers and fashion snipers prefer to do the job on their own. The stung Dr Cuterus possibly did not trust any fashion journalist to report the incident truthfully, after all, if all she reads is admiring, flattering, slavish articles about fashion designers and their creations.

The crossfire on Instagram between all the people involved also highlights the irrelevance of mainstream media and the influence and significance of social media.

Isn’t body shaming a big deal in today’s world? After decades of fashion and designers’ obsession with the body ideal – of anorexic models and impossibly unachievable photoshopped images of snake thighs, velty, caved-in torsos, and youthful faces – fashion has finally acknowledged its homicidal side. Today, even 10-year-olds worry about their size and appearance, dieting and worse by the time they reach adolescence.

Shouldn’t mainstream newspapers and television networks have leapt up and sent their reporters and crews to get the real story? No one is disbelieving of any side of the story, but isn’t reporting all about covering the facts, with hard-nosed questions to both sides, background checks for credibility, and exposing the truth? There could have been many questions. Were Tahiliani’s employees trained on new trends of body shapes and sizes? Do they know it’s passé to look at women as a tribe of size zero zombies, that today they’re celebrated as a diverse bunch of many shapes and sizes, big boobs and big hips and all? Could they have gone to five designer stores and checked this out?

Conversely, it would have been interesting to do a background check on the complainant. After all, since she’s a social media influencer, could she have set it up? Dr Cuterus made it a point to highlight the other designer, Anita Dongre, who willingly and amiably glided in to do a fitting lehenga outfit for a “double chin” and “big boobs”.

Of course, Tahiliani didn’t help matters when he said they don’t have ready garments for a Size 16 in his Insta post, and Dr Cuterus rightfully gasped and huffed at the flagrant and wanton public display of her body size. Not surprisingly, Dr Cuterus swore she’ll never step into a Tahiliani store ever again.

On the other side, Sabyasachi’s media troubles began when, yet again, Instagram posts hit out at him for his “Wanderlust” series in collaboration with H&M. The collection is supposed to have taken inspiration from Indian craft and design traditions, specifically Rajasthan’s Sanganeri print, among others. And, as the grande dames sighed, it was a missed opportunity for artisan livelihoods, especially during a pandemic.

As they collectively wrote – and they included all the Kendra Queens of traditional crafts promotion, from Dastkar’s Laila Tyabji to Sanganer’s Calico Printers – many of the “publicity statements speak of this collection as linked to Indian design and craft, while carefully omitting the fact that it has not been manufactured by any artisan..."

Gurjari and Delhi Haat creator Jaya Jaitley also wrote an article about it in a national newspaper.

The statement highlighted and asked for Sabyasachi’s perspective on the Sanganeri print artisans, as they have a geographical indication registration which means they are legally recognised as the proprietors of this technique and design vocabulary. But, despite their proprietary rights to these designs, were they credited or compensated in any way? Will this not also set the stage for mass cultural appropriation along with increased loss of livelihoods? In the absence of any other economic security, these design vocabularies are the only wealth that artisans have to build their livelihoods, they said.

To the credit of the Shilp matriarchs, they wrote, “In the hope of getting your [Sabyasachi’s] perspective on a matter that is affecting mass livelihoods...and should the ‘Made in India’ tag be limited to consumers only...Imagine the sheer potential of this story had it only said ‘Handmade in India’, supporting millions of jobs, equity and sustainable growth in communities that need it the most.”

Sabyasachi’s reply said that while he “championed the craftspeople and our great heritage of textile and crafts”, the Wanderlust collection was a chance for designers to “make their creations accessible to the larger high street market”. “The highstreet consumer today is your aspirational luxury consumer of tomorrow,” he wrote. “...And instead of craft devolving to match a lower price point, the consumer will rise up to covet it for its real value.”

He emphasised that his company was “deeply respectful of Indian crafts, geographical indication representation and the rights of our artisans”. Of course, he couldn’t resist the cliché that “while some business trickles down, some trickles up”.

The fashion media corps, as usual, carried each version without any questions, with the notable exception of the Economic Times, but here too, it stressed on why funds will not be given to any NGO or trust (did the author mean the matriarchs, wink wink) because they were dodgy, and only interested in being the artisans’ moral keepers, and the cash coming in. The article, however, gave Sabyasachi yet another opportunity to say that today’s high street customer is tomorrow’s luxury customer.

It could not be a more laughable and ridiculous statement. Does Sabyasachi hope that his lust-have H&M Wanderlust collection will trigger a shopper to save up to buy his couture clothes one day? That’s a pretty guileful marketing strategy for Sabyasachi Inc. And the designer knows very well that it is the villagers and rural folk who have traditionally worn the exquisite tie-dye bandhani or leheriya from Rajasthan, to the Kalamkari paintings on fabric, to the Ajrakh block prints, and so on. And they are certainly not luxury but common dress codes, and traditional too!

The Insta letters should have started a dialogue about sustainability, high street fashion, and bespoke luxury; how to incorporate the millions of crafts and weave artisans into a new and regenerative economic model; on whether copyright and patent issues can help artisans about ownership. Instead, there’s a dead silence from the media, even as there’s a hushed silence about raising rightful questions with their venerable designer.

Shouldn’t a fashion journalist not just know where fashion’s been, but where it’s going?

And so, have political journalists become like fashion hacks? Can a Bofors match a Rafale? In the latter, the media has shamefully given the present government a clean chit without any questions raised, even as newspapers – notably the Hindu which broke stories about dodgy transactions – were threatened with criminal cases. Even the courts have said there’s no foul play. It’s another matter that the chief justice is appointed by the government of the day as a member of parliament barely a few months after his retirement! Can cronyism match the bounty the Adanis get in winning every airport and seaport in the country, and yet no questions are raised today unlike the time of 2G cronyism?

The list is littered with embarrassing omissions. Today, it’s about the fetishisation of sarkari news promotion and consumption.

India ranks 142nd in world press freedom out of 182 countries in 2021. And, as the report says, it is one of the world’s most dangerous countries for journalists trying to do their jobs diligently – from police violence and ambushes by right-wing activists to reprisals by criminal groups and corrupt local officials, all sanctioned by higher authorities.

Worship is the new fashion code in politics, and it’s gone from trendy to tacky.