'Fashion' Sense & Sensibility

Mana and I were watching Confessions of a Shopaholic the other day, and were drooling over the oh-so-lovely dresses that Isla Fisher got to wear and strut around Manhattan. My favorites were always the BOOTS, and I always swore that if I were ever to live in a place where wearing boots didn’t attract too much attention, I would sleep in boots!

My sister was quick to point out that I would be foolish to invest in boots, as I wouldn’t be able to carry them off.  She was sure that after a couple of weeks, she would end up squeezing her Big Foot into it.  "It's high time that you start buying shoes of my size", she added cheekily..

According to her, while I certainly knew which clothes were IN, where to get the best deals, and knew which accessories worked well, it always worked when it was meant for others.   But when it came down to personal shopping.. let us just say that my fashion sense wasn't.. umm.. exactly up to the mark

I was livid!!!  Before I started to protest,  she went on to say that while I maybe a great companion for shopping, choose the best for others (– in fact, I can be trusted to buy clothes for my finicky sister for her NLS Ball, and it would fit her perfectly), when it came to buying for my own needs, I somehow ended up buying the worst thing that the shop had to offer..  Apparently my wardrobe had extremes – either clothes that are best left to Mount Carmel PU Students, or something, which my 40 year old aunt would love to wear.  (We are not talking about the fashionable aunt here). “You buy stuff that are great, no doubt - but  sadly not on you...  AND you just don’t dress your age”.  She summed up saying, "Honey! You have Fashion Sense, but sadly, no Fashion Sensibility.." 

“Ahh.. Pish Tosh.”, I replied, "Agreed that I may have had my share of fashion faux pas - and will continue to have some more,  but then, who hasn’t?"

"Do I even have to remind you about your graduation day?", she asked me. 

The minute I had laid my eyes on a certain black sari, I had assumed that I had finally found the Holy Grail... The answer to all my problems! Coupled it with good footwear and some bling. Strutted into class confidently only to be crowned as the Tom Boy of the batch by Coco in front of my entire class and the juniors that day.. Sigh.. I still don't know what went wrong that day... I have looked over those photos a hundred times and yet to find the reason.

I agree that except on certain occasions, when required to wear feminine clothes (Weddings, other related occasions, Navarathri, Deepavali, Pongal and Karadaiyan Nombu), in all probability, one would find me wearing something comfortable (Some people may call it Tom Boyish, I would say it is comfortable). I love pyjamas and end up working from home just so that I can slip into a set of pyjamas at 10 am, once my parents are off to work! This comfort dressing trend has augmented of late.

 

There was a time though, couple of years back, when my work required me to face my client in person. And stained jeans wasn’t something my manager could digest. He insisted, indirectly of course, that I wear something more ‘formal’. 

So that weekend, I skipped along to Scullers and Allen Solly, and bought myself nearly 6-7 pair of clothes. I was supremely happy and confident that it was my best decision, till my fashion critic decided to burst the bubble. “You look like a Dude”, she said as a matter-of-fact.

“Well, this is a ladies shirt”, I argued. “See.. no pockets!”

“Whatever! You would still look like a dude”.

In retrospect, I guess buying 7 formal gender-neutral full sleeved collared shirts of different colors, but of the same styling, same brand and from the same shop, did not qualify me to be called a Fashionista!  And I love Black Sneakers (Want to know who doesn’t) because I think white ones get dirty real quick, and I find those red and (or) golden ones plain revolting...Gray/Blue are passable.. Now I don’t want to be spending time in cleaning/washing my sneakers every other week.. Black shoes can be easily dusted off and the best part of it all would be that it just doesn’t draw attention. So I invested on a pair of expensive Black Reebok sneakers, only to be christened Lady Rambo a few weeks later by the Male Fashion Police brigade of my division. Apparently my sneakers had given me a masculine swagger.

But I do admire Liz Lemon from 30 Rock, and justified that it is possible, that at a subconscious level, I might have been influenced to dress up that way. A scary thought suddenly popped into my head. It reminded me of an episode in 30 Rock in which Jack Donaghy sets up Liz Lemon on a blind date with his Brilliant Plastics Enginner-SLASH(/) - Lesbian. But I quickly dismissed it. I do not have a Jack Donaghy in my life yet.

I remember the days when Orkut was so IN and suddenly  now Orkut is so yesterday..(Poor Orkut.. No Donut for you..)  Now Facebook is IN. (or so I think.. Or has Google+ taken over??) “It is okay to say you are not into social networking”, my close friend told me few months back. “But please NEVER say that you are in Orkut, but not on Facebook to anyone. Now that is Social Suicide”.

Clearly my head was clobbered with advices from too many of my well wishers!! 

My friends at work wanted me to wear better shoes, so that I get rid of my ‘Rambo-walk’. My cousins and Mana wanted me to get fashionable clothes, and get rid of those pastel (Wait a minute,... aren’t pastel colors girly?), over sized dude-sweaters (I don't think that pull-overs are meant only for guys!!) and tent-like kurtas, and my mum thought that I should wear Salwars (with Dupattas) more often, so that I get a chance to tie up my hair and wear a Bindi.  

I have a remarkable tendency of keeping my clothes in exceptionally good condition. I still have clothes from 2002, which look just a couple of years old. I may not fit into it, my sister refuses to wear them as they are not the flavor of the season.. My dad wanted me to me clear my closet and just give away half my clothes to charity. He has a rule these days. “You bring one new clothing item”, he says, “you shall throw away one”.

 

Soon, the realization dawned upon me that maybe, just maybe, Branding ain’t everything. Maybe I just do not want to be a fashion slave inherently.  Why should Fashion always mean what is currently in trend, and hold such importance in society? Why should media dictate our sense of style? Why can’t Fashion mean each one’s individual expression? If I want to wear yellow, I want to be able to wear it without any apprehensions.. I do not want someone to say, Yellow is not the flavor of the season! Fashion has been constantly changing!.. It is humanly impossible to always be up-to-date, unless you are Anna Wintour (a scary image of Miranda Priestly just popped into my head).  Because then again, you will be dictating fashion! I decided I wasn’t going to listen to any of this. I am my own person. I decide what to wear. I needn’t justify to anyone.

But the final straw came on a couple of months back, while I was travelling in a bus to work. My mother had insisted I wear my formal shirts to work, as they have been lying around ever since my client assignment had ended, and it was a cool weather, and the shirts were still brand new… I decided to wear a plain, full-sleeved, light blue Allen Solly Shirt, coupled it with my Levis Jeans, Black Reeboks and boarded the bus. Oh.. it was comfortable alright. All was well, till a middle aged Anglo-Indian lady sat next to me, and was trying desperately to ask the conductor about a certain bus stop. She wasn’t sure of the name of the bus stop, and couldn’t speak Kannada either. So I helped her in translating and added helpfully, that she would have to get off in the bus stop after mine. 

“And where do you get off?,” she asked me.

“At the one near Shoppers Stop”, I replied smiling.

She surveyed my attire for a second and asked, “Oh, so do you work at Shoppers stop? When’s the next sale?”

...Ode to dear ole Ambi

Ambi became a part of our household back in early 90s. I was still in my oily pigtail days, was living in Chennai thanks to Dad's frequent transfers, and was already in my third school in 5 years. Mana, who was hardly 3 years old then, was staying back with Thatha & Paati in Bangalore; and I was yearning for some company. Life was much simpler back then without the internet. I had seen kids playing outside their house with theirs, and I wanted one too, and come to think of it, I was not being unreasonable. I wanted what any 8-year old wanted.

 I begged Dad and Mom for this for days, and they kept shooting down my request on the pretext of the apartments’ regulations may not permit to such an addition. It will be invasive to the neighbors. Most of them do not have one at home, and we don’t find their kids asking for one, they justified.

In reality, life was going on perfectly fine for my parents, who did not want additional responsibility then. They were not sure how to handle such a circumstance. None of my aunts’ or uncles’ families ever had one. No one wanted to be the first to tread into the unknown territory of bringing such a change.

Nevertheless, after much deliberation, my parents finally gave in. We all agreed that it would be better if we had Thatha bring one over from Bangalore, instead of us finding one locally in Chennai. This way, when we transfer back to Bangalore in a few years, life would be much smoother. Thatha readily agreed to this suggestion, and so Dad went to Bangalore to bring Ambi home.

I was having sleepless nights. My folks decided to give me a surprise and refused to tell me which kind they were getting from there. I kept guessing, but they refused to give in.

Finally the D-Day arrived. Thatha made that all-important STD call from Laxmi stores to Chennai, to say that they were starting off from Bangalore and it will be a good 6 hours before they reach Chennai. They had decided to travel by the road. We were worried for Ambi. After all, it was the first trip out and such a long one too. Back then, NH-4 wasn’t that great. We weren’t sure if Ambi would hold out. Paati and Mana gave me a pleasant surprise by arriving with the entourage.

I have to be honest now. I was quite not thrilled when I first saw Ambi. He was definitely bigger than what I had expected, in a muddy brown color (not even the elegant chocolate brown). I must have made a face, because Paati immediately called me to come closer to Ambi. Guess she sensed it. I was unsure. Mana had become great pals already. She couldn’t be away for a second. Kids! I grumbled… She will fall in love with a bicycle tyre, if everyone around her convinced it was cute.

Anyways, obedient child that I was, I went nearer. I was a little nervous. Didn’t want to harm Ambi… Didn’t want to hurt myself either. But it was simpler than I expected. The moment I patted him, I knew it was just meant to be. All of us could talk nothing other than Ambi during dinner that night.

None of us still remember how the name Ambi came into existence. Guess I was looking forward to a baby brother a few years back, and Mana arrived instead. Or it was easier for the older generation to grasp the name… The fact remains, that the name stayed on.

I guess Dad was the most attached to Ambi, who was like the son he never had. He always went the extra mile to make sure that everything was just right. The best soaps and shampoos, the best scents known, only the branded ones; even I never had that expensive covers for myself. I held a private show for my friends the very next day. No one was allowed to touch of course! They were curious, but hey... I was the boss.

Life did alter soon. Since Dad and Mom were working, with the former having day and night shifts, we needed someone to help us take care of Ambi, especially with the regular checkups, and the nurturing, which was important in the early stages. We couldn’t abandon him, when we went out of station. We did not trust anyone to take very good care of him.

Mom had put her foot down saying the household expenditure had shot up ever, and was willing to take the lowest bidder. In stepped Murugan. At the age of 24, he did not have much experience. But he would be adequate, she felt. Murugan loved Ambi in a different way. They were pals. They would go on long rides together. Murugan used to hang out at our place even after he had finished the task for the day. God knows what they did all afternoon. Often we caught them napping together. We had to agree, Ambi definitely started looking better with the constant attention.

Mana started visiting Chennai more often then on. She and the other neighboring kids played weird Hide and Seek games with Ambi outside the apartment. The not-so-friendly Maamis of the neighboring flats were becoming more and more curious to know how Ambi, of all things, kept the brat pack so busy through summer.

Mana used to address (and still does) my parents and grandparents in singular. Since Ambi was also addressed in singular, I guess she assumed that Murugan could also be addressed the same way. When my mom overheard her saying, “Murugan, inga vaa...” (Murugan, Come here {Singular}), she severely reprimanded her saying that she should learn to be more respectful, and should address Murugan more politely.

We, including Murugan, did not know how to react when we heard her say the next day morning, “Murugarrr, Inga vaaa…”

Ambi got used to travelling from Bangalore to Chennai. He used to never complain, and I think he quite enjoyed these long journeys once a while like us. But he got ill once in Mulbagal, on our way to Bangalore. We were worried that he would not last till Bangalore, which was still a good 2 hours away. He was throwing up incessantly and Dad was not sure as to who would treat him in such a remote place. He left me, with my mom and Ash (who jumped in at the last minute from Chennai), in a restaurant, and tried going around town, to find out a pair of good hands, he can safely entrust Ambi with.

It turned out to be an eventful 2 hours. There was sudden commotion when I was still wondering if it was safe to dip my idly into the sambhar. The restaurant cashier was jumping up and down, ordering his men to pull down the shutters, and we saw many people cram into the hallways before the shutter came down completely. It was a lovely day in January 1996, to spark of communal tensions in Kolar and Mulbagal!

I was near to tears. My dad and Ambi were there out in the town. We had no way of contacting them (I grudgingly thank cell phone these days). After a tense 2 hours of being holed-up in the restaurant, we see my dad returning with Ambi, oblivious to the commotion that had happened. Apparently the other side of the town was peaceful and quiet. I still wonder as to really how big IS Mulbagal… But am thankful, they came back in time, intact.

Soon we returned back to Bangalore for good, sans Murugan. Ambi had become older and wiser, and we could very well manage without additional effort. Dad still had his dedicated time (Saturday mornings) with Ambi, who got a royal treatment. We took him out invariably all weekends for a long drive. Cousins would readily jump in, if they knew Ambi was coming along. The more the merrier.

We tried incorporating him into our tour programs, but there were restrictions. We knew if the place was going to be crowded, then Ambi would have a tough time fitting in. People may hurt him accidentally, or he may hurt people in the process. We did not want either of the scenarios. We tried leaving him with Chithapa sometimes, who could never manage him.

After our success story, Perippa and Chithapa(s) did not need much convincing to add Ambis to their own family. They went for a different variety though, named differently. Much smaller (easier to manage, they would say), and cuter to look at, but my loyalty stayed with Ambi.

I am sure Ambi never felt left out, or jealous, when I went out with his rivals. But I always had this guilt driving me nuts, so I tried my level best to avoid such confrontations.

Ambi was with us for over 15 years. A long time for such a friend. He was getting older, and more difficult to manage. Two girls together could not handle him. Mom had given up on him long time back, in her Chennai days. Dad was the only one who could get him to obey. But he was also getting older. Thatha himself had often suggested that we give him up for good. People were still willing to adopt him. We could not bear the thought of his deteriorating health, and preferred he go elsewhere soon. But as the arrangement came nearer, Mana and I would back out. We still did not want to give him up. He was family! And we had way too many memories with him.

After constant nagging from mom and Paati, Dad decided to get tech-savvy (now??) and placed an online advertisement. The response was overwhelming, but we did not want Ambi to go far away. We wanted to visit him (Just in case, we added). We had promised ourselves that we would not, under any circumstance, but we still wanted him to be somewhere closer. We finally sealed the deal with a Mangalorean family, who came on 12 March 2009. That is the last day we saw our dear Ambassador Nova KA-03 N 945.

We did not go out to say good-bye.