Zendaya’s recent red carpet moment has become a lightning rod for a debate that’s been simmering beneath the surface of global culture for decades. Wearing ancient Iranian earrings during the press tour for Christopher Nolan’s Odyssey isn’t just a fashion choice—it’s a collision of history, ethics, and geopolitics that feels both absurd and deeply symbolic. Personally, I think this incident is a microcosm of a much larger issue: how the West romanticizes ancient cultures while simultaneously erasing their struggles. What makes this particularly fascinating is the way it weaponizes beauty as a distraction from historical crimes. These earrings, looted from Iran in the 1940s, are now being used to sell a film’s aesthetic, as if their violent past can be airbrushed out of existence. It’s a grotesque irony that the same hands that stripped these artifacts from their homeland now hold them up as symbols of elegance.
The Ziwiye hoard, which these earrings belong to, was discovered by shepherds in a remote part of Iran and then sold off in pieces over the decades. That alone is a story of exploitation—a cultural treasure reduced to a commodity. But here’s what many people don’t realize: the earrings weren’t just stolen; they were stripped of their context. As Prof Sussan Babaie pointed out, these objects likely had spiritual significance, not just ornamental value. By turning them into accessories, we’re not just misrepresenting their purpose—we’re erasing the people who created them. What this really suggests is that modern Western culture has a disturbing habit of appropriating the past without acknowledging its pain. It’s like wearing a necklace made from the bones of a forgotten civilization and calling it ‘art.’
The timing of this controversy is maddening. As Iran faces relentless military pressure from the U.S., these earrings are being trotted out as a celebration of Persian artistry. It’s a slap in the face to those who see the country not as a museum exhibit but as a living, breathing nation grappling with survival. From my perspective, this is a calculated move by Hollywood to sanitize Iran’s image, using its ancient glory to deflect from its modern-day realities. The film’s producers might claim they’re honoring Iran’s legacy, but the optics are impossible to ignore. How can you celebrate a culture’s art while its people are being bombed? It’s a moral tightrope walk that Hollywood seems perfectly happy to perform.
This isn’t the first time celebrities have stumbled into this ethical quagmire. Kim Kardashian’s Marilyn Monroe dress at the Met Gala sparked similar outrage, though the debate there was about preservation versus spectacle. The difference here is that the Ziwiye earrings are not just culturally significant—they’re looted. That distinction matters. When you wear a piece of clothing that once belonged to a famous person, you’re not necessarily erasing their legacy. But when you wear a stolen artifact, you’re participating in a centuries-old system of cultural theft. The British Museum’s Benin bronzes are a prime example of this—objects taken under duress, now displayed as trophies of imperial conquest. Zendaya’s case is a smaller version of that same dynamic, amplified by her global fame.
What’s truly alarming is how easily the public can be distracted by the glitter of celebrity. The conversation around these earrings has been dominated by debates about whether they’re ‘responsible’ to wear, rather than questioning why such artifacts are still in private hands in the first place. Barron London’s claim that the earrings are ‘responsibly stewarded’ feels like a PR maneuver designed to deflect blame. If these objects were truly respected, they wouldn’t be used as fashion props. This raises a deeper question: Can anything ever be ‘responsibly’ repurposed when its original context has been so thoroughly violated? The answer, I think, is no. These earrings are not just accessories—they’re relics of a theft that should never have happened.
And let’s not forget the other controversy surrounding Odyssey: its use of Dakhla in Western Sahara, a territory under Moroccan occupation. This isn’t just about cultural appropriation—it’s about complicity in colonialism. The film’s producers are essentially greenlighting a narrative that sidelines the Sahrawi people’s struggle for self-determination. It’s a pattern: whenever Western media wants to ‘celebrate’ a culture, it’s done on the backs of marginalized communities. The irony is that the same institutions that claim to champion global heritage are the ones that have historically stolen it.
In the end, Zendaya’s earrings are a Rorschach test for our collective conscience. Do we see a beautiful piece of ancient craftsmanship, or do we see the scars of a violent history? The answer will determine whether we continue to treat cultural heritage as a luxury item or as something sacred. Personally, I believe the latter. If we can’t even respect the past without exploiting it, what hope do we have for the future?
