Hey, I'm Cheyenne, Bearfoot, member of the Chiricahua Apache Nation, and your host of Sovereign Innovations.

There are 574 federally recognized tribes within the United States and hundreds more the United States chooses not to recognize and no two look or dress the same.

for example, look at the difference in clothing between Ohlone women of the California Bay Area and the traditional dress for Southwestern Navajo or Diné, women and men.

Now, contrast that with the protective clothing of the Inuit people.

As you can see, some materials like feathers, beads and hides are used inter-tribal, but not always in the same way, making the clothing designed for each tribal nation uniquely different.

So if there's all this rich real life representation, why are we so often reduced to the same image?

Well, it's kind of got to do with these guys right here.

George Catlin, Edward S. Curtis and William Buffalo Bill Cody.

Long story short, Catlin was a painter obsessed with capturing this authentic image of Native American people he visited across the United States during the 1830's.

His Indian Gallery collection showcases over 500 pieces that center his Eurocentric lens for understanding us.

Between 1900 and 1930, Edward S. Curtis was also obsessed with capturing this authentic image of indigenous peoples before they all vanished.

He photographed more than 70 tribes across the U.S. but his images grossly romanticized us.

He staged scenes and mismatched cultural items between tribes to fit the story he wanted to make.

Buffalo Bill's Wild West shows are another inaccurate depiction of indigenous people.

He showcased us as violent instigators when really we were the ones undergoing genocide.

So it's thanks in part to these guys that these one dimensional and misleading images of indigenous people have proliferated so widely.

The content was assumed to be factual rather than what it is, a performance or only half of the story.

To date, they've informed millions of people about what we are and what we should look like.

And many non-Indigenous people today are still obsessed with consuming the authentic Indigenous cultures they've been fascinated by for centuries.

No matter how fabricated it is.

Which brings us back to fashion.

Perhaps nobody is better at fabricating indigenous cultures than clothing brands, companies, frequently appropriate cultural iconography, hairstyles, motifs, prints and designs, you name it and they've stolen it to reproduce something that's mid at best.

From people wearing Plains tribes war bonnets at music festivals to that George Lucas guy taking inspiration from the Hopi women squash blossom hairstyle for Princess Leia's Space buns; to the popular Minnetonka moccasins those hipsters wear, and -of course- Halloween costumes for every person who wants to be us, but doesn't want to put in the effort to understand us.

Oftentimes, indigenous communities don't receive credit or compensation, despite being the key inspiration for these brands.

Elias Not Afraid, an Apsalooke a beader and fashion designer who's had his work featured at the Santa Fe Indian Market and recently on the cover of British Vogue, shared with me his experience of non-native companies, attempting to replicate his work.

Yeah, it's disheartening because like, now what I've noticed was, well, this is actually something that happened just recently, a company out in India, reached out to me and was trying to ask me permission to use my beadwork designs so they could do replicas of it using beadwork because they know they're teaching themselves how to bead and they're going to try to sell it for like, you know, cheaper.

Elias isn't the only one with an opinion on the cultural appropriation of indigenous items.

Joey Montoya, a member of the Lipan Apache Nation and CEO and founder of Indigenous clothing brand Urban Native Era, shared his perspective on the decades old issue.

And I think those folks that are appropriating are not truly connected to who they are they tend to look at other things that, that are connected, you know that have this meaning, meaning and purpose to it and meaning and purpose that's rooted in like thousands of years of, of like learning of ceremonies and all these things that are they're not just like if we didn't just create this 500 years ago, like the US was created, you know, we, we've been developing our culture and who we are as indigenous people for, so many so many years.

So it's deeply rooted in the world.

At a glance, you might think it's humorous or not a big deal, but it's actually more harmful than you might think.

A lot of the elements in indigenous clothing like regalia and ceremonial dress, hold significant value and purpose, and when brands exploit that for the purpose of trendy fashion and capitalism, it can be incredibly offensive and inappropriate, because they're disregarding that value and also ignoring some of the historical trauma we've undergone.

But we haven't taken this nonsense sitting down, oh no.

Indigenous communities have been outspoken against cultural appropriation for at least the past eight decades.

When the National Congress of American Indians created a campaign to eliminate negative stereotyping of indigenous peoples in the media in the 1940's eventually they narrow their scope to specifically discuss sports mascots and team names.

Their overarching argument, simply put, is that the racist names and co-opting of iconography was incredibly offensive and hinged on untrue assumptions about indigenous peoples.

But they weren't the only ones in our communities who were trying to do something about the ways people were perceiving us.

Indigenous fashion designers are pushing back against the myth of the monolithic Indian with their innovative styles that often blend traditional indigenous designs with a reinvented modern twist.

You know, if our ancestors were here currently, what would they be designing?

What resources would they be using to really create, you know, what they want to wear and what they see as of importance, you know?

And what also will change too, because I believe, you know, our ancestors adapted to the environments and used those resources and they would have done the same thing if they were if they were placed in this time or in the future, they would have done that same thing of just really observing the world again and really figuring out what we should be wearing, what needs to change and shift.

Of course, the design process varies from person to person.

Ty LodgePole, a Navajo fashion designer of Homeland and member of Indigenous Enterprise, is creating designs that reference his traditional upbringing.

A lot of people's mood boards are our people, which is kind of crazy and so it's like, why not do the same?

But in a respectful, tasteful way?

What you would see you know old pictures of, you know, our ancestors and Navajos and also the Apaches that's really like a like a cut off almost Capri/Jort and in my mind that's like super dope to see because I mean, Jorts are like a pop in thing right now you know, making its little come back and you know that kind of resonates to everybody but little do they know, like once you pull back the layers of it just looking cool, there's a reference point.

There's a story behind it.

If we stay repeating the same designs that are like in collections, in museums and stuff, we're basically just being held back in the past.

Remixing and adapting is such a huge part of indigenous fashion in order to really tap into the full range of expression.

And the reclamation process looks and means something different to each designer.

Indigenous fashion can function as a subtle or direct reference point for one's tribe.

And these indigenous designers are giving folks in our communities a new way to represent themselves and reject decades of misleading tropes.

But apparently, we're not the only ones jazzed by these bold forms of representation and reclamation.

Over the past several years, Native folks have found ourselves occupying spaces we've historically been left out of.

You can now see the work of indigenous designers featured on runways in New York and Paris.

You can spot indigenous models and actors like Quannah Chasing Horse and Lily Gladstone on the cover of magazines and on your TV screens.

I didn't know they were going to put it on the cover or even use my stuff, per se.

So, yeah, they said, okay, we're going to use this for a photoshoot with Lily Gladstone.

And that was all.

And then I found out the day they posted it on the British Vogue Instagram, I was like, oh.

When I create something, I'm hoping there's a native kid or just somebody out there watching and in their minds like, oh I'm going to go crazy, or that I would do something better than that.

You know, saw like three, three or four people wearing our hat.

So it's nice to know that, like, you know, we have people in these spaces that support, you know, what we're doing and also support for the bigger vision It's taken decades of individual and collective action to get to where we are now.

And although indigenous representation has come such a long way, many Indigenous folks feel the work isn't over.

Right now, we're experiencing an incredible resurgence of Indigenous image, and it's not one size fits all.

As a reconnecting urban native.

All of these options make me feel seen.

And they give me choices so I don't feel pressured to fit in with dominant Western culture.

I can be outspoken with my clothing expression and unapologetically me, whatever that looks like.