My saree wearing woes…

Like every year, my pre Diwali preparations began with pulling out the mothballed sarees and the corresponding blouses and then trying to push my corpulence into them, centimeter by centimeter. And then having the child and the husband pull said blouse off me, by having me hold tight with free hand to strong window frame while they do their version of tug of war with said sleeve which has generally gotten entrenched in rolls of fat. Some blouses survive this assault. Some get ripped to shreds. Ah. Anyway. You get my drift. And then I do the hopping around in anger number for five to ten minutes, after which, the cook, who is nifty with a needle in emergency situations, is called to prove her loyalty and asked to take out all seams and stitch back said blouse at the absolute very edge of the fabric to ensure I don’t look like the Joan of Arc Chest bound version of the traditional Indian woman.
The blouse being dealt with appropriately, the saree was deliberated on. Thank god for petticoats with allowances for widening waistlines, and the comfort of accommodating six yards which does not discriminate between the stick insect and the pleasantly rotund.
Come evening and time for Lakshmi pooja, the traditional mangalsutra draped on, the bindi put on, the saree jammed into place with enough safety pins to hold together an army of airhostesses, I was set for the pooja. And the moment the pooja was done, the crackers dispensed with (don’t look at me, I don’t buy them, I protest vociferously, and I accompany them down purely to ensure the child does not end up doing something wonderful with light fireworks which would necessitate an application of Burnol or worse). Once done, I fled back home and undraped myself of the cumbersome yards of fabric and deposited them safety pins carefully for use next Diwali or in the event someone got married in the family before that, and I would be called upon to wear the traditional garb again. I even discussed the nice new innovation of sarees getting tailored into slip on outfits with the most amused spouse and toyed with the possibility of converting all those lying untouched from trousseau time, and providing fodder and nourishment for silver fish, into cushion covers and runners. Would have been more appropriate for Diwali too.
But no. I’ve decided. I need to get back to wearing them sarees on a regular basis. For that I need to buy me some. (Psst, psst, are generous souls listening in?) And stitch some more forgiving blouses, with adequate room to grow stitched into generous seams, in which I can actually breathe and not worry about popping a button if I sigh too deep. After all, a girl needs some excuse to get back to shopping, right. And with sarees would come the coordinated bags, shoes, etc. Hmmm. This sounds like a plan. Now to gather up the nerve to venture into public with waist tyres on display.

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About Kiran Manral

Author of The Face At The Window, ( 2016), Karmic Kids, All Aboard (2015) , Once Upon A Crush (2014) and The Reluctant Detective (2011).
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5 Responses to My saree wearing woes…

  1. vaidegi j says:

    absolutely loved it!! πŸ™‚

    Like

  2. Gypsy Girl says:

    hahaha! Have you tried a ready to wear sari?

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  3. don’t i know that feeling… of wedging my “abundance” into a sari blouse!

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  4. Kanchan says:

    Yes ! I always tell anyone who listens – the reason for me not wearing sarees – is that I don’t have any fancy/latest designer stuff. Ofcourse I am not encouraged to go out and shop as I’ve not yet worn all the items (even once) received during the wedding…ehm 6 years ago ! Has become a vicious circle, so I totally hear you – go out and buy those sarees !

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  5. Sudha says:

    There are tailors who pre stitch the sari on an elastic petticoat for you. I know my friend has one in Chandigarh. Bombay surely cannot be far behind πŸ™‚ Good luck and don’t stop wearing saris.

    Like

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