I may have been called names by different people. Well, who has escaped from that? However the last name I thought I would ever be called was a snob. Whichever way I look at it I don’t consider myself a snob and suddenly out of the blue my own niece who is the apple of my eye calls me a snob and she specifies it by calling me a sari snob. The dictionary gives the meaning of a snob as “a person who believes himself or herself an expert or connoisseur in a given field and is condescending toward or disdainful of those who hold other opinions or have different tastes regarding this field”. As far as I know I don’t think I fit this bill. My association with the sari has been very lowly for I have never walked into a high end boutique or purchased anything from Sabyasachi, Ritu Kumar, Satya Paul or their likes. Nevertheless I felt there must be some truth in my niece's comment for she never talks off the cuff and so I decided to go through my sari history.
My tryst with the sari began when I was around 15 years of age. I grew up wearing clothes typical of a South Indian girl of the 60’s early 70’s. I graduated from frock to half skirt to full skirt with a short stint in half sari and then finally THE SARI. My first official outing in a sari was for a wedding reception in Calicut. I wore my aunt’s pink Banares Sari and fitted perfectly well into her blouse. By the time I was in my final year at school, I had become an expert in wearing a sari. All the four years in college was just sari for me. Initially the saris were all hand me downs of which I had no choice. The fashion those days for girls and young ladies was to wear the Japanese made synthetic saris, of which there was nothing to choose as it was usually thrust upon by some relative/friend returning from the Far East. I think the first time I really got to choose a sari was for my wedding. In the 70’s, the Malayali wedding had not turned Big and Fat and so my sari was a simple Green Benaras sari which cost around Rs. 600/-. I also got to buy a couple of other saris for the occasion.
It was after my marriage that I got to buy saris. Having immediately gone to the Middle East, the place was flooded with the Japanese varieties and every year saw me buying 20-30 saris most of which I gave away when I came to India. It was during the short breaks in India that I would buy some printed silks and crepes to take back to wear at some social functions. My need for the Kanchipuram was minimal and thank God the so called designer sari had not yet arrived. I realized that my saris were being appreciated by my friends when I wore them in Saudi and many a time when I traveled to India, I was given a shopping list to take back. This being my life style till 1995, I wonder when I picked the tag my niece has bestowed me with.
My return to India seems to have coincided with the period when the consumer was the king. New shops began to come up serving all kinds of merchandise and this included a variety of sari show rooms too. I did my rounds and zeroed in on 3-4 shops to which I go when I want to buy a sari. (I like to be on my own when I buy my saris). My mantra for buying a sari is that it should be something I like. I never look at what is in fashion be it the colour or the design. I have a fixed notion that only few colours suit me and hence I land up buying only those colours. It is when I go with my sisters that I concede and get myself a bright sari, which at most times is a gift from them. The maximum I have spent on a sari is Rs. 4000/-. (The other day I came across a picture of a model wearing a heeled slipper costing Rs.5000/- and this was mentioned as being cheap!!! My eyes literally popped out. May be I am really not in sync with the present day happenings). The two expensive saris in my cupboard cost Rs. 7000/- each and both are gifts which I got to choose. I have never ever bought the so called designer sari what with their bright colours and all the dazzling work. I would run a mile if I were to be presented with one of those. It is not because I am a snob, but because I feel those flashy colours will not suit me and also because I don’t want to go around like a jewelled Christmas tree. My idea in life is to blend with the background. I would like to be recognized for what I am and not by the clothes I wear.
Since I have been buying almost the same colours and designs over the years with a few changes now and then, you could almost say that my saris have a vintage appearance. One can never mark the year in which a particular sari was bought. The goodness about this is that people have accepted my saris just like how they have accepted me. I can walk in anywhere and be comfortable in my beiges, creams, mustards and other earthy shades. I have set myself a trend which is more out of convenience than fashion and if this is what makes me a SARI SNOB, I am indeed proud to be one.
Thank You Preetha.
Monday, March 9, 2009
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If a snob is someone who stands out in a crowd then you should be proud of being a snob even if it is a "sari snob"- achan
ReplyDeleteI thought she meant the word snob as a person who wears only sari and no other modern attire...
ReplyDeleteDon't worry, if you are one, then it's a 'cool' sari snob, and thats a good thing. As for not wearing Satya Paul and their like, you aren't missing anything. They are simply over-hyped, with some terrible prints.
ReplyDeleteHey Vals,
ReplyDeleteTo clear up the meaning: I meant someone who is very choosy about their saris-- nothing bad at all!