It was my cousin’s wedding and my dad refused to understand my need for a new outfit! You know how dads are - they always think you have enough clothes and that wearing the same piece over and over and over again is totally okay. So I was stuck with my old wardrobe and a discouraging bank account, looking for alternatives when my mum bought herself a pretty, new saree. I recognised the signal the fashion gods had sent me, bowed down to their demands and accepted their challenge to don that six-yard-long saree for the first time in my life. I rushed to my trusted tailor and asked him to make a simple black blouse, with one specific detail - a deep back. And I mean, seriously deep.
On the day of the wedding, my family left for the venue early in the evening and asked me to come later with my brother. My maid helped me tie the saree on and if she had any reservations about my low-waisted, deep-necked ensemble she kept them to herself.Oh, I thought I looked lovely. You see I am very curvy and the saree only accentuated them. I was quite ready to make the grand entry to the venue. However, the moment I sat in the car, I felt like my saree would unfurl. But because I had already spent so much time in dressing up, I knew my brother would lose his cool if I were to rush in for a final check, so we just left.When we reached the venue, getting out of the car was a whole new problem for me. I had to turn in my seat, push my heels out of the door first, hold my pleats together, and then jump out, hoping all the time that I wouldn’t trip on my petticoat. Oh, and my brother had to keep the door open for me all this while, because my own two hands were too occupied handling those long six yards.Finally, we entered the venue and I felt all eyes turn in my direction, but not for the same reasons. My blouse did not go down well with my dad, who thought it was too “bold”. At the same time, my younger cousins declared me their style icon. I didn’t care too much about either opinion, honestly, I was too busy revelling in all that attention… and making sure my saree stayed put. It was no easy feat. For one, it was so, um, open that my legs which weren’t used to all this free space between them felt awkward. And then the pleats and the pallu continuously threatened to slip off their positions.