I remember the first time I felt uneasily split between wanting to notice something and wanting to keep a conversation alive. It was at a market in Lisbon where a stall sold "tribal" jewelry beside a bookshelf of travel memoirs. The vendor chatted warmly with tourists, but something about the display nagged at me: who made those pieces, who benefited, and what story had been flattened into a label? I could have turned away. Instead, I asked a question and learned a small, messy story that changed how I thought about buying and talking about other people's cultures.

Spotting cultural appropriation doesn’t have to mean policing every gesture or shutting down conversations. If anything, we lose something important when we replace curiosity with accusation. The trick—one I’ve been learning through travel, reading, and many awkward conversations—is to hold three threads at once: context, power, and voice. Here’s how I unpack them, with practical cues you can use aloud or inwardly when you notice something that feels off.

What I look for first: context

When I see a cultural element used in a new place, my first question is simple: Where did this come from, and how did it get here? Context is the background music of cultural goods and gestures. Without it, meanings are flattened.

  • If an item is marketed as "authentic" or "traditional," I ask who named it that and how they benefit from the label.
  • When someone wears a sacred or ceremonial symbol casually, I think about whether the symbol was removed from its original setting and why.
  • If a brand appropriates a style, I try to find whether artisans from the original culture are credited, compensated, or even visible in the supply chain.

    • Context isn’t an absolute test. It’s the beginning of a conversation. A brand like Zara or H&M releasing a festival-inspired line isn’t automatically villainous—context helps you ask the right follow-ups: Did the company consult the source community? Is there economic benefit flowing back? Or is the aesthetic simply mined for trend cycles?

    How power shows up

    Power dynamics are the thread that makes appropriation distinct from cultural exchange. I pay attention to who profits, who controls narratives, and who gets to define what’s "respectful."

  • When a dominant culture adopts elements from a marginalized group and profits off them without acknowledgment or restitution, that’s a clear red flag.
  • When members of the source community are excluded from the conversation—economically, legally, or rhetorically—that’s a sign to push back.
  • If the usage reduces a living practice to a costume or a trend, especially around holidays or events, the power imbalance is usually at play.

    • Think of it like this: borrowing a recipe from a friend and making it your own is different from a multinational chain launching a "heritage" menu named after a minority community that sees none of the profits. The former can be generous; the latter often isn’t.

    Listen for absent voices

    One of the simplest indicators I use is whether the voices of the people whose culture is involved are present in the narrative. Are they quoted, hired, represented, or invited into the conversation?

  • If you read an article or product blurb that speaks for a culture without including perspectives from that culture, be skeptical.
  • If a festival costume references an Indigenous practice but there’s no outreach to the community, that absence is meaningful.
  • Conversely, when brands like Patagonia or niche cooperatives partner transparently with artisans and show the makers, that presence changes the equation.

    • Absent voices aren’t always maliciously omitted—sometimes they’re simply ignored. That omission itself is part of the pattern we call appropriation, and noticing it lets you ask better questions rather than simply reacting.

    Questions to ask (silently or aloud)

    Over time I developed a short checklist I can run through without turning into a judge. You can use these in a conversation, in a comment thread, or to guide a purchase decision.

  • Who created this, and who profits?
  • Is this practice or object sacred or ceremonial in its original context?
  • Have the source community’s members consented to or benefited from this use?
  • Does the presentation reduce a living culture to an aesthetic or stereotype?
  • Is the person using it acknowledging its origin and complexity?

    • These questions aren’t a moral litmus test. They’re a way to slow down and assess impact rather than intent.

    How to raise a concern without shutting down conversation

    I’ve been in more awkward conversations than I can count. The ones that went well shared a few habits: curiosity, specificity, and openness to learning. Here are practical ways I try to keep things generative.

  • Start with what you noticed, not with a label. "I noticed that your costume uses a Native American headdress—do you know what it signifies where it comes from?" is gentler and more effective than "That’s appropriation."
  • Use "I" statements to center your perspective. "I feel uncomfortable because..." invites dialogue rather than defensiveness.
  • Be ready to share a fact or two: brief context can help. "Headdresses are often ceremonial and earned; wearing one as a costume can be hurtful to those communities."
  • Offer alternatives. Suggest respectful ways to celebrate or learn, like supporting Indigenous artists on Etsy or visiting exhibitions where communities tell their own stories.
  • Listen to their response. If someone is defensive, ask a follow-up question. If they’re curious, point them to resources or people to follow.

    • Words that open rather than close

    Language matters. I keep a few phrases handy because they invite conversation rather than end it.

  • "Can you tell me what drew you to this?"
  • "I’m curious about the history of that—do you know more?"
  • "I read that X is considered sacred by Y people. Have you come across that perspective?"
  • "If you want to explore this respectfully, here are a few makers/organizations I’ve found useful..."

    • Simple, curious language lowers defenses. It recognizes that people often act from ignorance, not malice.

    Practical habits that help me keep learning

    Spotting appropriation is partly a skill and partly a practice of humility. Here are habits I try to maintain.

  • Follow creators from the cultures I admire—artists, writers, and community organizations—so my understanding isn’t filtered only through mainstream media.
  • Buy directly from artisans when possible, or from brands that are transparent about partnerships and royalties.
  • Read primary sources and oral histories rather than relying on second-hand summaries.
  • Admit when I’m wrong. Sometimes I’ve called something out only to learn I misunderstood its origins; saying so matters.

    • These practices shift the conversation away from blame and toward accountability and education.

    A few messy realities

    There will always be gray areas. Cultural exchange is real and often enriching. People have long borrowed and adapted ideas across borders. The difference lies in respect and reciprocity. The goal isn’t purity but equitable conversation—making sure cultures are invited into the narratives that use them, and that material benefits and recognition follow.

    When I walk past a shop selling "Aztec" prints or see a festival costume that mimics another group's sacred dress, I no longer recoil in silence. I ask, I read, and I raise a question when it seems productive. Sometimes the response is defensive; sometimes it sparks a thoughtful exchange that leads to better choices. Either way, staying curious keeps the door open—and that’s where real learning happens.