Borrowed Taste
May 12, 2026 By Rishika Miranda
About ten years ago, I suggested Kota stone flooring for a project.
The reaction was immediate.
“That’s what my parents had in their house when I was growing up.”
A few minutes later, we were discussing Italian marble instead.
Neither material had changed. Yet one belonged to the past, and the other seemed to represent progress.
Over the years, I’ve sat through countless conversations like this. The materials change. The projects change. The pattern doesn’t.
Certain references arrive carrying aspiration before they’ve even been discussed. Others arrive carrying baggage.
The conversation around Kota stone wasn’t really about flooring. It was about distance. One material was associated with where the client came from. The other was associated with where they wanted to go.
The same dynamic played out publicly this year when Karan Johar appeared at the Met Gala.
The visual language being celebrated felt remarkably familiar. Raja Ravi Verma’s work has spent decades moving through Indian homes in the form of framed reproductions, calendars, devotional imagery, textile references, and prints. Most of us have grown up around it.
Then suddenly it appeared on one of the world’s most visible cultural stages.
The paintings hadn’t changed. The references hadn’t changed. The craftsmanship hadn’t changed.
Yet the conversation around them did.
What was once traditional became luxurious. What was once ordinary became collectible. What was once familiar became worthy of attention.
A carved wooden detail feels dated in one context and sophisticated in another. Handmade textiles move between traditional and aspirational depending on who presents them. Local craft acquires new value the moment it returns carrying the approval of somewhere else.
The object remains the same.
Only the frame changes.
The longer I work in design, the harder it becomes to believe that people reject certain materials, aesthetics, or traditions because they lack beauty.
More often, they reject what feels familiar.
And familiarity has a habit of disguising value.
Raja Ravi Verma didn’t become more significant because his work appeared at the Met Gala.
The work was always there. The craftsmanship was always there. The cultural richness was always there.
The only thing that changed was where we were being asked to look.
Further Reading
- What Fontainhas Taught Me About Goa — A spatial reflection on colonial architecture, color strategy, and historical layers.
- The Things We Make Beautiful — An inquiry into why humans build, sculpt, and obsess over spatial aesthetics.
- The Quiet Work of Design — Documenting the hidden processes, details, and artisan collaborations that occur before site execution.
