When Hollywood's brightest stars grace the red carpet, their fashion choices generate headlines—but Zendaya's recent accessory selection has ignited a conversation that extends far beyond glamour and into the contested terrain of archaeological ethics and cultural ownership. At a London promotional event this month, the actor paired an ivory halter Jacquemus gown with gold disc earrings believed to date from the first millennium BC, pieces sourced from an ancient Iranian hoard and mounted with diamonds by London jeweller Glenn Spiro. The decision has exposed a fundamental tension in contemporary celebrity styling: the intersection of aesthetic audacity and the moral responsibilities that come with handling objects of profound historical significance.
Zendaya and her longtime stylist Law Roach have built a reputation for sartorial innovation, regularly sourcing museum-quality archive pieces and rare garments for red carpet appearances. Their collaboration has produced some of fashion's most memorable moments, from haute couture robots to conceptual gowns that blur the boundary between wearable art and installation piece. Yet the introduction of ancient archaeological artifacts into this equation represents a significant departure—one that has alarmed scholars who specialise in cultural heritage. The gold earrings, known as Ziwiye medallion plaques, originate from a trove of artifacts excavated in the 1940s near Ziwiyeh Castle in northwestern Iran, pieces that have since dispersed across major museums including the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York.
The archaeological provenance of these objects carries troubling implications. According to Peter Edwell, a history and archaeology professor at Macquarie University in Sydney, the origins of such Middle Eastern artifacts remain deeply uncertain. "The archaeological origins of it are really hazy, and we just don't really know what happened," Edwell explained. "And probably, I think, plunder and looting is what happened." This assessment reflects a broader concern within the archaeological community: thousands of artifacts circulating in private collections and galleries worldwide likely entered those channels through colonial-era dispossession or illegal antiquities trafficking. The Ziwiye hoard represents precisely the kind of material whose journey from ancient context to modern marketplace raises uncomfortable questions about who benefits from cultural property and how historical narratives are shaped by institutional power.
Critics have framed the choice as more than simply poor taste—they view it as potentially damaging to efforts at cultural preservation and repatriation. Dr Z, an archaeologist and cultural commentator, characterised the fashion application as a form of "fetishising the past," a practice that risks normalising the commodification of archaeological heritage and potentially fuelling demand in the antiquities black market. When celebrities wear such pieces, the argument goes, they inadvertently confer desirability and legitimacy upon objects whose acquisition histories are morally compromised. This concern resonates particularly in Southeast Asia, where regional nations have long struggled to recover cultural artifacts looted during colonial periods and continue to advocate for repatriation from Western institutions.
The timing of Zendaya's accessory choice added another layer to the controversy. Annelise Baer, an archaeologist and producer based in Los Angeles, noted that wearing ancient Iranian artifacts felt particularly insensitive given the ongoing geopolitical tensions, observing that "Iran is being actively bombed." Beyond this immediate political context, Baer suggested that the backlash may have been amplified by racial dynamics, noting that both Zendaya and her co-star Lupita Nyong'o have faced racist commentary since the cast announcement for their film project. The convergence of cultural appropriation concerns, geopolitical sensitivity, and documented racism created a perfect storm of public disapproval.
The practice of incorporating historical artifacts into celebrity styling is not entirely novel. At the same London event, Zendaya's co-star Anne Hathaway wore jewellery containing a stone gifted by Mughal emperor Shah Jahangir to his son Shah Jahan in the 17th century—a piece equally laden with imperial history and questions of ownership. These decisions reflect a broader trend in high-fashion red carpet culture, where stylists engage in increasingly competitive acts of one-upmanship, seeking distinctive conversation-starters that elevate their clients above competitors. Archive haute couture has become the currency of this competition; ancient artifacts represent its ultimate frontier. Yet this escalation raises uncomfortable questions about resource inequality: only celebrities with access to powerful stylists and galleries specialising in rare antiquities can participate in this particular form of sartorial display.
Barron London, the gallery that facilitated the arrangement, acknowledged the controversy in a statement, though representatives for Zendaya, Law Roach, and jeweller Glenn Spiro declined to comment. The gallery's role in mounting and styling these objects for celebrity wear represents a significant shift in how rare artifact dealers position themselves—no longer merely custodians of historical material, but active participants in celebrity branding and fashion narratives. This repositioning speaks to broader changes in how wealthy patrons and institutions conceptualise ownership and use of cultural property.
Yet not all responses have been uniformly critical. Some observers, including Baer herself in her initial commentary, saw potential value in the publicity generated by the controversy. "I am ultimately glad that this has really brought the issue of antiquities ownership and the ethics—provenance, looting, colonialism—immediately to the public attention," Baer stated, acknowledging that mainstream visibility of these scholarly concerns could catalyse important conversations about cultural heritage rights. This perspective reflects a genuine dilemma: while the commodification of ancient artifacts is troubling, the resulting public discourse may educate broader audiences about colonialism's ongoing legacy and the moral complexities of museum collections worldwide.
For Malaysian readers and observers throughout Southeast Asia, these debates hold particular resonance. The region's own experiences with colonial-era cultural dispossession remain unresolved, with significant numbers of Southeast Asian artifacts housed in European and American museums. The normalisation of treating ancient objects as luxury fashion accessories risks establishing precedents that further entrench the idea that historical material rightfully belongs in private hands and commercial contexts rather than being preserved and interpreted within their cultures of origin. The Zendaya incident thus becomes not merely a celebrity fashion controversy but a potential turning point in how contemporary society negotiates the ethics of cultural ownership in an age of influencer culture and social media amplification.
