Sari shopping

Ever since I arrived in India I have been greeted by the amazing colors and designs decorating each person, and more specifically the women. In the US, people often wear drab colors like shades of gray, tan, white, and black, maybe because they are more chic and professional. These colors exist in the garb here but there are so many more colors exploited and encouraged in the different pieces of clothing people wear. At first all clothing seemed to be a mesh of whirling colors that, over time have developed into kurtahs, salwar kamees, tight or large pants, dupitas, and the elegant saris. They all seemed so beautifully unique and yet strangely all the same.

Lindsay, the intern here at Visthar, helped to open my eyes to the world of saris today. We first went to a sari shop that looked similar to many other shops I had seen on Commercial Street and along other shopping center streets. I was told these were lower end, but was so amazed and overwhelmed at all the sari patterns and colors and sparkles that choosing just one seemed impossible. About an hour later I was lead to a special silk sari establishment where I needed to take off my shoes and walk in to sit down with cushions underneath and behind me. Instead of being overwhelmed by the things I saw in the earlier shop I began to see the quality of the material and the solidarity of an elegant, quality sari.

I left the second shop with new eyes. Instead of looking at clothing as simply decorative and ornamental I began to see the intricacies of how the sari defines who and what a person is in India. The material that looks as if someone just sewed something onto it or if the pattern is almost gaudy was not an expensive sari and the ones that are more plain but more elegant are worn by those who can afford such extravagance. Recognizing this, I came to the realization that what someone wears can also externally and socially define that person. It made me foolishly self-conscious of the cheap but beautiful kurtah I was wearing when I had previously been so enamored with its sparkly beauty. Is there a sub-culture defined by fashion in India?

The slums we walked through at the beginning of the journey here seemed so full of beautiful colors and the people did not seem poorly clothed as I was still so overwhelmed with the swirling hues. Would I have looked at these people differently if I really knew the cost of their clothing? I am disgusted with myself for thinking such materialistic thoughts and having developed a sense of pride having been able to afford a real silk sari that clearly declares to the world that I am wealthy, beyond the color of my skin and place of origin. What percentage of people in India can afford a real silk sari? How much of the silk in India is exported to wealthy people all over the world? How will the majority of India view me as I wear the cheaper sari or the silk sari? Will they see me as a white wannabe trying to be one of them or someone who is prominently displaying my wealth on my back? I am not sure how much what I wear will define me and am anxious to contrast reactions when I wear either sari.