When Ashley Callingbull—a Cree woman from Enoch Cree Nation and the first Indigenous woman to win Miss Universe Canada—saw some of the costumes the contestants were wearing in the competition, she felt it was her mission to stop the pageant and admonish them. "Indigenous culture is not a costume. Our regalia is not an aesthetic. Our history is not a theme, and when you get it wrong, 'we’re sorry you were offended' is not an apology" she said. Sacred items on the runway The outrage began in Windsor, Ontario, during the pageant’s national costume segment, designed to showcase Canadian heritage. Contestant Karisa Haverkamp walked the runway in a turquoise, black, and white feathered headdress paired with a red handprint painted on her face—a sacred symbol used to bring awareness to Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls (MMIWG). Another contestant, Jasleen Kaily, strutted out in a skimpy two-piece "Arctic Beauty" outfit complete with mukluks, fringes, and twin braids. Both looks had been pieced together from fast-fashion and novelty e-commerce sites like Etsy. When Callingbull witnessed the display, she said her "jaw just dropped." In Indigenous traditions, eagle feathers are sacred, individually earned through leadership, service, or bravery. Seeing sacred regalia sexualized and used as cheap entertainment felt like an intolerable insult. When a teleprompter failure created an unexpected pause during the live broadcast, Callingbull seized the moment. Taking it as a sign, she instructed stage managers to turn down the music, went off-script, and halted the show to directly address the audience and call out the cultural appropriation. Callingbull then brought pageant director Sonny Borrelli to the microphone to issue an immediate, live apology alongside her. Who owns a culture? Her intervention forced an intense debate around a core question: Who owns a culture? Reactions to the incident exploded across social media. Many applauded Callingbull for taking a firm stand for Indigenous sovereignty and dignity, forcing Miss Universe Canada to announce the immediate creation of a strict "Costume Guide" and cultural liaisons. Both Haverkamp and Kaily posted public apologies, stating their intent was never to disrespect but rather to "celebrate" First Peoples. However, the event also triggered sharp online pushback. Critics argued that global fashion thrives on cross-cultural borrowing, questioning where the line is drawn. Commentators raised familiar double-standard arguments: If Black public figures like Michelle Obama regularly wear straightened hair, or if Beyoncé dyes her hair blonde, is that considered cultural appropriation? Why should non-Indigenous women be vilified for adopting traditional styles when minorities frequently adopt Eurocentric aesthetics without backlash? Nevertheless, many social media users applauded Callinbull for her decisive action. "Very well said @ashleycallingbull you're an incredible role model ❤️❤️❤️," one user posted. Appropriation versus appreciation For Callingbull and Indigenous leaders like Miss World Canada 2022 Emma Morrison, the difference lies in sacred intent and historical power dynamics. Wearing mukluks or a feathered headdress as a costume strips away centuries of earned spiritual meaning, treating living traditions as disposable props. For non-indigenous peoples, it's all a storm in a teacup.