Madam is India Culture...yes!?

Indeed, there have been so many requests for updates on the "Sari Situation" that we decided to dedicate an entire post to it (and maybe more in the future for the hardcore sari affecionados). Obviously, when we got off the plane in Mumbai, the first thing we did, before finding the hotel, was to find a starting point for the Sari shopping, I mean, you have got to get your priorities straight... so, Fabindia and a small shop, conviniently located right under our guest house were chosen. The first sari that Kim saw was a beautiful cotton sari from Orissa (where we will not be going, so she did feel momentarily guilty about getting it). Kim managed to wait an entire day, while constantly annoying Boaz by talking about it and worrying that some other evil person may have bought it. As a (slightly more practical) consolation prize, Kim went to Fabindia and bought a simple yet elegant bordeaux cotton sari at a reasonable price (for Mumbai). The next morning, we exchanged a stash of travellers cheques and happily bought the first sari as well.

However, we would like to say that buying clothes in India is not about instant gratification, but rather double gratification- once when you buy the cloth and the next time when you get it back from the tailor. For a sari, you need a choli, which is a VERY SMALL tiny little blouse that has to be very expertly tailored, otherwise it either bags unattractively or binds your arms to your torso. We had a bit of trouble finding a good tailor, and that's what put us a week behind.

In the meanwhile, Kim was attempting to learn the ins and outs of sari tying both alone in the privacy of our room and with the help of a nice homeless old lady that Boaz had befriended the
night before. She taught Kim the Gujarati wrap, which fits all of the Kim criteria: unlikely to fall off or get caught on things and looks ok with a backpack. Normally, a nice Indian girl will drape her sari with the pallu (the beautiful ornamented end part) over her shoulder and cascading down her back elegantly. This does not work with a knapsack. More practical working women (the ones who use their pallu for things like covering their heads, carrying babies, blowing their noses and wiping their hands) usually keep it tucked in. This is why Kim's photos might not look exactly like you may have seen saris worn before....apart from the fact that she isn't Indian, that is!

Fast forward: Bijapur, where Kim has found a choli tailor and after many alterations, finally took it home to test it. Now, a choli is something neither of us had ever seen in it's entirety before, since the front is always covered by the sari. When Kim put it on for the first time, it was rather ...um... surprising. A choli can also function as a bra and had strange circular seams that made Kim look astonishingly like some of the statues in the temples (see left).

Never the less, the front firmly covered by the sari, Kim spent 3 hours perfecting the drape, and then ventured out into the dusty streets of Bijapur. We had a long photo session (for posterity, and this blog's sake), which managed, as usual, to attract a significant crowd of onlookers - it seemed like the best show in town! This accomplished, we went on to do some sightseeing and took some more photos of Kim posing as a Bollywood star. People's reactions are generally very positive. A lot of people come up to us and say "Madam is India culture, yes!?" (I'm sorry, was that a question?) It is also a great conversation starter and large groups of women constantly approach Kim to ask about her sari, her jewellery, her marital status and plans for enlarging the family. Today we walked through the narrow old streets of Badami, where a hoard of women decended on Kim and dragged her into an alley, in order to undrape her and get her wrap right (it looked perfectly good to us before the 10 women got at it). Many women were compelled to give her bangles, little purses for hanging inside the sari, and in many cases, felt free to get Boaz to put tilak marks on her forehead.

Kim's taste for simple, locally produced, hand woven cotton Saris is apparently horribly out of style with the younger generation, or to put it in plain words: she has the fashion taste of an old lady from the village. Every time we "people watch" all the women under 60 have horrible synthetic saris that look (to us) like tablecloths or something you would find in a hotel room masquerading as curtains. To each their own! However, Kim's fashion taste is extremely appealing to septagenarian gentlemen, who feel the need to come up to Boaz and commend his wife on her excellent choice of sari, Indian culture, and upstanding morals. We were joking that she probably reminds them of some lovely creature they set eyes on in the 1930's.


Wearing a sari is great fun, much appreciated by everyone, looks elegant on every figure, can be used as a tablecloth and baby carrier, and we are taking orders (please specify if you will need a choli and send measurements). The only drawback, is (Boaz says) is that if your wife gets a Sari, it means she spends about one hour longer getting ready in the morning, but this means you also have more time to finish reading the paper, do a bit of Yoga, choose pictures for your blog, go outside to take even more photos and mess with your camera equipment... but to be honest, it does get faster every day, and Kim looks great!