It is said in Indian astrology, that if you had the attention of planet Saturn, you would never find clothes comfortable or becoming. If I believed in astrology, I should say I must be Saturn's all-time favorite. I cannot remember a time when I found clothes comfortable. Or, fit me well. Or made me look good. Sometimes I really wish I lived in a nudist colony, where it would not be quite as much a taboo to live as nature intended us to live.
Back in school, we wore a uniform of brown skirt and checked collared shirt made of Terricot. I would remember wanting to curl up every morning at the thought of having to wear it. My skin cannot tolerate anything that is not really old and worn-out cotton. The more worn-out the better - think grandmom's well-worn chungudi saree. The first touch of the terricot on skin would make it smart and it would take a few hours before the skin came to terms with its fate.
The ritual of getting new uniforms was relegated to once a year, which did not quite suit the schedule of my outgrowing uniforms every two-and-half months. So, while the year started with wearing over-sized clothes, there would be a brief period (say, three quarters of a day) when the uniform would actually fit well after which, the skirt would be either too tight at the waist, especially after the thayir-saadam-maavadu lunch, or above the knee, making bending over a feat-of-sorts (or fete-of-sorts if you were a voyerous pedophile), or the collar would cut off circulation neck upwards, which would not matter too much after lunch hour anyway, or the buttons on the blouse would threaten to snap. The last was especially a problem during adolescence, when the human anatomy was having a makeover and moms were still wondering if it was time for those uplifters yet. It was especially horrible with the sports uniform (thanks for the photo , Viji). As you can see from the photo in which I was perhaps 12, I could not look more uncomfortable. Just looking at this photo makes me itch all over. By the time I was in 12th, I was ready to graduate to no-more-uniform days of college. Had I but known.
College. When girls are supposed to bloom into women. When the good, bad and ugly converge in the world of fashion. When clothes-challenged-pets-of-saturn metamorphose from awkward to awkwarder. Especially if the college were one of those that ride high in the city's fashion map. Three years did nothing whatsoever to improve self-image. If any, self-image plummeted into the dark abyss, propelled by designer clothes and pearl facials all around.
Then some amount of self respect returned in the seat of higher learning, where hopefully, brains mattered more than brassier size, and hostel-living boys would give any ugly girl a superiority complex. This was followed by a stint in a really cold region, where most of the time, you were covered by dull, large overalls to beat the cold, and it did not matter what went underneath it, as long as there were many many layers of it inside. Oh, bliss.
Now, I am a grown up. I have a fantastic family and a sky-rocketing career. I even have a blog that is read by 32 people all over the world. So, do I walk with a confident stride, ready to take on the world? No. And why not? Because I am always uncomfortable. Saree makes me conscious for the show of mid section, which has expanded beyond my wildest dreams over the past decade. Besides, the blouses never fit. Trousers make me hot (thermally, that is) at my legs. Salwaars are consistently tailored badly that either they slip at the shoulder which have been designed by a very unfair almighty to slope at a highly obtuse angle w.r.p. neck that reaches for the stars, or compress the lungs so hard that the face is usually blue within two minutes of wearing it. Skirt and blouse is fine, if I can find a cotton skirt that snug fits at the waist, but it involves having to shave, an activity I am not particularly fond of.
And don't even get me started on footwear.
Oh man. Just reading this makes me want to burn 3/4th of my wardrobe, but the only things left would be little more than a couple of cotton camisoles.
College wasn't so bad - my all-girls college (may they burn in hell) had a dress code which forced me to wear mostly salwar-kameezes, and in their words, "tops which cover the back pockets of your jeans" because they couldn't even bring themselves to say "buttocks". But still, in voyeur-riddled Chennai, cotton salwars were waaaay better than synthetic skirts and shirts. Ewww.
I too have a problem finding shirts and tops that fit, since I too have been blessed with a torso that tends to grab as much space as possible.
To borrow the words of Mary Roach, I'm exhibiting continental drift in reverse.
Posted by: Brown Suga' | 04/20/2008 at 03:09 PM
Amen.
Posted by: Lakshmi | 04/20/2008 at 03:23 PM
[this is good] Oh, SO true. I hate hate hate clothes. The horror of box pleats (did you have to iron yours, too?) in childhood simply gives way to the horror of having to dress up as an adult.
Except in college. Shopping was a day of fun out with girlfriends, and fine cotton was easy to find. Tailoring was bitter-sweet- there was a woman who could make you look like a princess, but her churidaars would cut off the circulation at your legs (more blood to the brain, good thing, no?)
The blissful thing in residency is that I can live in scrubs. Who cares if they're a yucky green color..they're shapeless, comfortable and need no ironing. I spent the whole winter in scrubs and sweatshirts. Love it, except when walking into a roomful of residents dressed in suits and jackets and high heels. Then I feel a little embarrassed and vow to dress better, next time. The resolution lasts all of thirty seconds.
Posted by: Purplesque | 04/20/2008 at 05:57 PM
[this is good]
I love clothes, I just love them less on me. ;-)
And footwear? that is my favorite thing ever. Regardless of my dress size, i can always find shoes that make me feel pretty.
Posted by: karen | 04/20/2008 at 08:33 PM
L, what about those tent-shaped nighties that cover you from head to toe? When you're sick of them, they can always be converted into pillow cases.
Posted by: Terri | 04/20/2008 at 11:59 PM
Folks... Imagine a male's plight... Polished shoes., Ironed clothes, tie !!! and coat / suit for some very important kick-off meeting... Entire india is not suitable for wearing tie... I have got so many black marks around my neck due to tie :(
Posted by: Vijay Ganesh | 04/21/2008 at 01:32 PM
You are a braver blogger than I! I share your sentiments. You should see me here in New York winters and most seasons, I am wearing at least two or three layers at all times...shopping is a nightmare for me. I absolutely hate it! Sticking to oversize cotton salvaars ease many of the nightmares I have with fitted American styles...
Posted by: alaivani | 04/24/2008 at 05:55 AM
[this is good]
Your post was so fantatically written that I am going to revel in reading it again. The humor was just fantastic, a joy to read!
And SO true by the way. It seems there is forever a battle between comfort and style. It's so unfair!
Wonderfully written, I'm going to go enjoy it again...
Posted by: Tara S | 04/24/2008 at 07:07 AM
I would really like a post of yours on footwear [:D]... i can understand, for i react to clothes that are not of cotton and i did wear cotton at school - somehow managed to wear cotton... else the chennai heat would leave me very uncomfortable ... same with the thicker variety of cotton. I had my hair cut very short to aid circulation at the back of the neck... oh those collars :). After all these modifications i did feel comfortable :P... see i was lucky enough to wear a pinafore and had no button problems with the blouse :P
But again had to wear thin cotton blouse lest I feel very warm. And there were times that I spent redesigning the uniform with no collared blouse ... which of course was not made public. And the same dress was comfortable during rains esp since we were allowed to wear footwear of our choice ;)
Posted by: k | 04/25/2008 at 02:51 PM
Oh L, you brought me back to my school days! My grade school uniform was a green cotton dress with a white pixie collar blouse underneath, green knee socks and saddle shoes. On to high school and the uniform changed to a WOOL skirt, (with box pleats) white blouse with pixie collar, and a navy jacket blazoned with the emblem of my alma mater. I remember every September, going to school with gigantic clothes, and by the spring, not daring to bend over at the waist!
Thanks for the laughs and a walk down memory lane :))
Posted by: Karen Lynn | 05/01/2008 at 02:24 AM
Karen, I did not know that there were uniforms for school kids in the US.
So the variable sized clothes is a universal phenomenon, huh? That is a comforting thought.
Posted by: Lakshmi | 05/01/2008 at 08:14 AM
Yep Lak, in the public schools you are right, they don't wear uniforms, but I went to catholic school. My dad used to buy me shoes a size bigger too...
Posted by: Karen Lynn | 05/01/2008 at 01:47 PM
[this is good]
Lakshmi,
Posted by: Srividhya Ganesan | 05/06/2008 at 09:30 PM