India's leaders are wearing their wealth openly

There was a time when Indian politicians came wrapped in khadi. Leaders cultivated an image of simplicity — white kurtas, well worn sandals, modest lifestyles and a carefully curated performance of austerity that signalled solidarity with ordinary citizens. Wealth, even when it existed, was often concealed behind political optics.

That era appears to be fading. When Karnataka's new Chief Minister D K Shivakumar, also said to be the richest CM in the country, steps out wearing designer scarves from Louis Vuitton or Gucci, paired with a Rolex, he is doing more than making a fashion statement. He represents a new archetype in Indian politics: the unapologetically wealthy leader who does not see the point in disguising his success and wealth.

The point is not really the price tag of a scarf. It is what that scarf represents. For decades, Indian politicians seemed to believe that visible luxury could be politically damaging. The gap between elected representatives and voters was bridged through symbolism. Even affluent leaders dressed down to convey a simple message: "I am one of you."

Today's billionaire politicians appear to be sending a different message: "I have succeeded, and I am not going to hide it." Voters are increasingly aware of the wealth that surrounds political power. In an age of social media, public disclosures and relentless scrutiny, the carefully curated image of simplicity can often feel hollow. If a politician possesses significant wealth, why maintain the illusion of frugality?

Yet politics is not only about reality; it is also about symbolism. That is why the image of a luxury Louis Vuitton scarf worn during an inspection of a garbage segregation plant resonates so strongly. The contrast is impossible to ignore - a global luxury accessory set against the realities of civic infrastructure, sanitation workers and urban waste management.

The issue is not whether a wealthy politician has the right to wear expensive clothing. Of course they do. The more interesting question is whether such displays widen the psychological distance between those who govern and those who are governed.

There is, however, another way to interpret the moment. Bengaluru is not the India of the 1970s. It is a city shaped by startups, venture capital, global corporations and extraordinary wealth creation. In this environment, power is increasingly associated with success, scale and executive authority.

Viewed through that lens, Shivakumar's wardrobe may be functioning as a form of political branding. Luxury labels communicate a message familiar to the corporate world, that success is visible, and visibility itself is a form of power. Whether one admires or criticises that approach depends largely on what one expects from political leadership. Should elected representatives mirror the lifestyles of ordinary citizens, or embody the aspirations of a rapidly growing economy? Is visible wealth evidence of disconnect, or proof of achievement? Does authenticity mean dressing simply, or refusing to hide one's status?

These questions extend far beyond a single politician. India's leaders are no longer always trying to look poor. Across India, particularly in the South, some of the country's wealthiest political leaders now occupy its highest offices. Personal wealth is increasingly viewed not as a liability but, in some circles, as evidence of competence, influence and success.

The khadi-clad politician has not disappeared. But he now shares the stage with a new figure, the politician in designer labels, comfortable with luxury and unafraid of public scrutiny.