Cut From the Same Cloth: CLAD and HerCampus

A Breakdown of Ashoka’s Representation by Two of its Most Popular Clubs

A reel by a club at Ashoka may just be a few seconds of stimulation in the course of a doom scroll, but the aphorism ‘a picture speaks a thousand words’ holds for a reason—a video, then? Arguably, even more. The seemingly insignificant reel becomes important to us all, for this bite of information plays a vital role in how our institution is perceived. The number of times a friend from another university has sent me a reel from HerCampus or CLAD is, well, countless. And, it comes as no surprise that these two clubs are time and time again the most popular, with their flashy content and popular song choices as audio. CLAD is Ashoka’s fashion club, while HerCampus is an international community that brings college-going women together, of which Ashoka has a vertical. Each reel sent is followed by an inquisitive remark about whether or not Ashokans even study, or what ridiculous things we are getting up to on campus. That inquiry is only a small part of what is a larger discourse on representation. 

The Twitter discourse on the infamous CLAD x ABA (Ashoka Basketball Association) reel is what steered this narrative towards a more grave direction. The reel, which has over two million views now, shows members of the club asking people about their ‘court side fit’ at Ashoka’s annual basketball tournament. What began as a simple reel morphed into an ugly discourse in which the right-winged uncles of Twitter took the lead:

Source: Twitter responses to CLAD x ABA's "courtside fits" reel.

The amusing comparison of Ashoka to Karan Johar and the statement about Ashokans having no “real life stress” is, I would contend, rather harsh. What struck me as intriguing about these tweets, however, was that Ashokans were not in full disagreement with them. Most reels, according to some, have become rather repetitive, usually in the format of club members stopping people and asking them questions. 

Source: Twitter responses to previous comments on CLAD x ABA reel.

Although chronically online, fully-grown men can refrain from commenting on the lives of college students, there appears to be a consensus amongst students that there is a certain homogeneity, if not blatant discrimination, in how certain clubs portray student life on their social media. In conversation with Arjun* (UG’27), they remarked, “CLAD looks like an H&M catalogue.” Another student, Priya* (UG’25), said, “The only criteria to get into CLAD is being skinny and wearing cargo pants and a fitted top.” 

Nairah* (UG’27), a former member of CLAD, went on to tell The Edict that most members not only approach their friends for their reels but also tend to gravitate towards people of a particular body type and homogeneous fashion sense: “This homogeneity is representative of the missing sense of style as well as the urban, contemporary fashion corresponding to a certain socio-economic background. The clothes illustrate a lifestyle only attainable to those with deep enough pockets.” So, a sense of style becomes a thrifted pair of jeans when it is designed by a high-end brand. This is most definitely not representative of the larger student body, but anyone who seemingly does not fit this form is not featured. 

These voices of opinion seem to be saying the same thing: what these reels do represent is a much larger issue in the student population. The irony of this is that every single projection of Ashoka by the administration, be it statistics used at the O-week presentation or images on Ashoka’s Instagram, expresses that there is a great sense of diversity among the student population. The administration projects photographs of varied groups of students partaking in academic and co-curricular activities—the advertisements scream Our students are as diverse as the liberal arts education we offer, come on over! However, these two clubs, arguably the most popular on social media, portray students from similar socio-economic backgrounds, which negates the very image this university wishes to project. 

The problem is not the content in isolation—the problem is that the content is often in isolation, that it becomes the most popular representation of Ashoka online. If there is only the sanitized representation of the administration and a handful of similar students, where does that leave the rest of Ashoka?

Even if the content of the reels is construed as entertaining and even fun-loving at times, it does not, and cannot, remain out of the purview of the critical eye. Many students expressed concern about the heteronormativity of the content and how most of the members in the reels are cisgender if not cis-heterosexual. Students across batches also seem to agree that HerCampus features the same students over and over again, enforcing the sense of homogeneity in the projection of Ashoka, with Arjun* (UG’27) telling The Edict, “HerCampus reels have the same twenty to thirty people across batches.” More than that, in conversation with a group of students for this article, Priya* (UG’25) chuckled and said, “Feminism isn’t even the primary concern of HerCampus — it’s merely a way for the same pool of people to have fun making reels with their friends.” 

The content of the reels in question is highly westernized, emulating that of colleges abroad. To those with no prior impression of Ashoka, it gives the appearance of the ‘Haryanvi Harvard’ it is often joked to be— the only place in India that gives you this ultra-modern and western experience! It seems as though the problem lies in the fact that even on a campus so small, it is easy to slip into your own bubble within the bubble of Ashoka. It is easy to believe that you and your friends make up the entirety of Ashoka, that your view of the campus is, in fact, the campus. So, when, on a public forum, you represent your college, you fail to realize that the nature of this representation is falsified in the first place. What becomes interesting is how this specific representation arises and persists. To investigate this, The Edict spoke with the minds behind these clubs for the past academic year and the incoming one. 

Over the past academic year (AY 24-25), HerCampus and CLAD’s social media presences have increased. And, in turn, they have received increased traction. For instance, a reel titled  ‘when you get the residence hall everyone wants but can’t have’ hit a whopping 319k views. However, quantity of both content and views does not guarantee variety. In an interview with The Edict, former HerCampus social media co-head Kriti Sarawgi (UG’25) talks about the process of finding people to be part of the club’s reels. “We go around campus looking for people who might seem interested. Or just our own friends or friends of friends.” This is clearly reflected in the club’s reels, with the same fifteen to twenty faces appearing in their content, seemingly from a similar demographic. When asked about if the social media team approaches people they know more often than not, Sarawgi said, “I think there is some level of comfort saying that you know if you see someone you are friends with or know it's a lot easier to approach them and ask them to be part of a reel, because there are so many times we have to beg people to feature.” However, she also went on to say that the team, last year, hoped to step out of their “comfort zones” and portray “an accurate reflection of how diverse Ashoka can be and is.”  

CLAD’s social media presence has also become more prominent over the past year, with there being a reasonable overlap in the faces in their reels and HerCampus reels. In terms of the clothing — which is the focus of the club— there is an apparent homogeneity, with most participants sporting westernized outfits with similar silhouettes. While members of CLAD’s social media team of the 2024-25 academic year declined to be interviewed, Kevin Mutta (ASP’25) from the styling team spoke to The Edict about the club’s presence on social media and on campus. Speaking of the impression CLAD wants to give, Mutta remarked, “A lot of the perception around CLAD also becomes that it's quite different, right? It's quite different from a lot of the other colleges in India. A lot of our comments usually end up revolving around the fact that we really look like an American college.” This would explain fellow students’ comments on the club representing a specific identity and socio-economic status. Mutta added, “One of our major concerns is that we don't want to come off as elitist. We want to maintain accessibility, but we also want to maintain the fact that we are a fashion club.” Then, accounting for student response to this club, is CLAD sacrificing accessibility to maintain what it means to be “a fashion club”?

To probe this question further, The Edict asked Nairah*, former member of CLAD, about the club’s sense of inclusivity—“There are not a lot of queer people in the club, and we have heard accusations of us being homophobic and heteronormative. When we were choosing people to model for the show, I recall one of the core members saying that we have one queer person modelling, so we cannot be called homophobic, as if they were checking an item off a list.” One cannot, then, come to the conclusion that these clubs are unaware of the question of representation and are, in fact, aware that they are representing something. Rather, it seems as if the representation is born out of convenience, with a sprinkling of diversity hires on top to rid oneself of accountability. 

While members of CLAD’s current core team did not agree to an interview, The Edict did speak with the incoming Presidents and social media heads of HerCampus to see whether there is a marked difference in the team and its vision compared to a year ago. HerCampus co-president Pratyusha Gupta (UG’27), when asked about the purpose of the club, stated, “We are looking to create a space of inclusivity and diversity.” When asked about whether the demographic of the club’s members is representative of HerCampus’ motto of inclusivity and diversity, co-president Sakshi Bhagat (UG’27) said, “In terms of members, your identity in terms of, say, group or batch or gender or stuff like that is not what we are looking at. We’re looking at you as a person who can bring creativity into the club, who feels like they want to contribute to the community.” In terms of the gender ratio of the members, she added, “We do have a much larger ratio of females. But that isn’t a very conscious decision, or it’s not like we’re choosing to do that. It’s just that that’s the vibe that a lot of people are looking for.” 

From these statements, one could conclude that there is no malicious exclusion in the induction process, but instead, a blindness to the fact that one has to seek other perspectives, perhaps make it a point to reach out to and induct individuals who would not normally join such a club, to have the perspective that is lacking now. Another accusation that HerCampus often faces is that it is incredibly heteronormative. When asked about this, Bhagat replied, “In terms of queerness, we’ve had a lot of members in the past who have been queer. So again, it’s not something that is, I think, even at the back of our heads when we’re interviewing you.” This attitude feels similar to that of CLAD, in the way that having a queer person on the team seems to fill a quota. However, there is a marked difference in filling such a quota versus integrating another perspective into the narrative you perpetuate.   

The way this image manifests on social media was also addressed, to which co-social media head Karman Rai (UG’28) told The Edict, “We don’t particularly select people or select a certain group by asking questions. It’s just that a lot of people are not comfortable speaking on camera or featuring on our reels, and sometimes it’s just one certain friend group that happens to do so. But if you see, in a lot of our reels, we have tried to get to groups of people who have never been on camera and talk to them.” As someone who has said no countless times to being featured in a club reel, this seems to be an understandably difficult task. But, in favour of a more holistic representation of Ashoka, it is nonetheless an important one to undertake. Co-head of social media Gayatri Jain (UG’27) added that in an attempt to achieve the goals of diversity and inclusion this year, she hopes “to do more collaborative posts, like collaborations with different events and different communities. We did a bit of that last year, but I think that’s a really easy and effective way to gain engagement and traction for the other community as well. And just interact with different people from Ashoka.” 

Is collaboration with other clubs and societies enough to address this issue of representation in these two clubs? Or does it begin with an acknowledgment of the problem within the leadership teams in the very first place? When asked about what would be done differently in the coming year, Bhagat said, “There isn’t a lot image-wise. We want to do more events and have more posts and reels going out, catering to everybody inside and outside of the club.” The central problem, then, is that there is a lack of acknowledgment of the harmfulness of the kind of representation that is taking place. And, if either of these clubs truly wants to move towards so-called ‘inclusivity’ and ‘diversity,’ it has to begin with an awareness of these criticisms. 

Ashoka, like most private college campuses, is a curated mesocosm where those privileged enough to be here interact with others who are privileged enough to be here. Even though the student body is diverse in its experience, there remains a sense of interconnectedness as we navigate through the similar experiences of college life. With this privilege, it becomes crucial to take advantage of this interconnectedness, branch out, and diversify our view of this space. Ashoka University is a bubble in itself—the least we can do is explore this bubble and not retreat into smaller ones. 

*This interviewee wished to remain anonymous, and this is a placeholder name.

(Edited by Teista Dwivedi and Fatema Tambawalla.)