i stopped wearing sarees

 

funny i should start a blog on sarees. for years i avoided sarees like the pl...  i was convinced i was too fat to wear them.

my mother, who was unabashedly of considerable girth, and was always in a saree, would laugh at me. she started wearing sarees at thirteen, and other than salwar kameez a few times as a teenager, she'd never worn anything but a saree since then.

she was so comfortable with it in fact, she'd wrap it around her in minutes... sitting on her bed. 

i am not exaggerating. 

at some point during this nifty operation, she'd raise herself to a half-standing position, and slip the pallu end languidly around her, then sit back adjusting the pallu so it fell gracefully across her body, and she was done.

all the while i'd be thinking, how, how, how is she even doing that?

she was as i said not exactly thin, but she never looked awkward or strange in a saree. same with my aunts, great aunts, and grandmothers. not everyone was large, but they weren't size zero either. 

so where had i got this idea that one had to be super slim to look good in a saree? i keep hearing a similar thing from my chinese friends, they insist you have to have a ramp model figure to wear a cheongsam. really? is this some conspiracy by some evil empire to do away with our natural, native attire? yet another way to occupy our minds? ok, i'm just kidding. 

don't get me wrong, i loved sarees even when i didn't wear them. what a tussle that was. i love you but door raho... stay far away from my sight. don't tempt me. let me wear my tent-like salwar kameez, my oversized shirts, and hide my less than perfect body.

my sarees stayed quietly waiting in the cupboard.

then one day, around the time my daughter was born, i was forty-one then, that i felt this feeling... i wanted to wear a saree. 

to h with size, fears, conventions.

i'd learnt to wear a saree when i was fifteen or sixteen. my aunt – my mamima, my mother's brother's wife – had taught me. she was a good teacher, she used a neat trick to flatten the edges and get a smooth look around the waist where you start drawing the saree up to wrap it for the final twist to the pallu. she was particular about pleating and from the first tuck to the last swish of the pallu, she instructed me to be aware and in control.

everyone all my life has said to me how well i wear my saree. it used to please me.

yet, i think i never owned my saree wearing.

never made it part of me.

i mean, would i sit on the bed and drape my beautiful saree?

so, after almost ten years, i started wearing sarees again. and buying them... oh, that was fun. i've stopped being too strict about every detail as i wear a saree. i relax and let it flow about me. i tuck and pull where i feel i need to, but i indulge the fabric as well believing it'll do its thing and make me look good.

the saree has still not become as everyday and part of self as it was for my mother, but it's getting there. my usual garb continues to be oversized shirts and long skirts, but every friday evening, i wear a saree. 

it's shabbath in our home, my husband and daughter are jewish... the perfect occasion and excuse to let six yards whirl about me and set the day aside from others. my version of friday dressing, you might say. i also take a picture of me all decked up.

we often view the saree as something special, only meant for occasions, if at all. even inconvenient. not contemporary. unwieldy.

it can be unwieldy till you get the hang of it, a bit inconvenient too maybe, but aren't the best things in life always a little difficult? 

as for contemporary, if you are, that's what counts.

i am planning to wear a svelte black patola this evening. going for a birthday dinner. no, i won't wear it sitting on my bed, but i will wear it quickly, happily, knowing it's part of me.

bought this patola from neeru kumar many years ago. clever, intricate, deft weave. back then, prices were not as crazy as they're now. i've worn it many times, and every time felt a thrill. i'm not sure whether it's a double or single ikat, must find out. the beige saree above... it was on the second night of passover this year that i wore it. a fine cotton saree, possibly south indian cotton, with a woven black border, and minutely detailed delicate lucknow chikan motifs all over, from fabindia, kolkata. i remember going back again and again to see it and finally justifying the price in my mind. what a relief. 

..........................................

sarees tell stories | beige cotton with chikankari from fabindia, kolkata, 2019. black patola from neeru kumar, mumbai, around 2004/5. 

 

sarees tell stories index

the friday saree index

how many pleats? index

 

 

my photo credit ferolyn fernandez