Wedding Vignettes: A Non-Fashionista

She is 27, but I can still tell her what to do.

“Go clean your room,” I say. The Why? look freezes on my daughter’s face as she sees the Or Else! look on mine.

An hour later, she comes out with two garbage bags full of clothes. I thought I said Clean, not Clean Out.

“Give these to the poor in India,” she says. The poor? You know who’s poor? Me, after buying her those sackful of clothes. I peer inside. The Ann Taylor shirt still has the tag on it. The rag-pickers may not get enough food, but at least they can qualify for Make Me a Supermodel. I have no idea how she comes up with the “I have nothing to wear” -whine.

She picks out a conveniently-placed one from the top of the pile. “Mom! This is from 9th grade!”

It sure is. But she’s not wearing it. I am. I try on some of her rejects and lo and behold! they fit. Fine, no need to go to the mall. Another upside is that I get a lot of compliments for dressing trendily (or at the minimum not looking my age).

Trendy, except for when I wear a scrunchie in my hair. I am absolutely forbidden to wear a scrunchie. Apparently carrying the stigma of a Ba, an episode from SATC clinched her conviction that no (self-respecting) women, except oldies ... and hicks from the Mid-West ... would be caught dead in one. It is, however, my sine qua non on my daily walks and is cleverly hidden in the glove compartment of my car and removed from my hair upon entering the house. One hour on the windy trail and I would give Jimi Hendrix a run for his afro.

The older I get, the less I care about fashion. My daughter? The fancier she gets, the less my wallet weighs.

Her sunglasses are from Prada. Mine are ten bucks from TJ Maxx. She goes to Bloomingdales to buy her shoes. I go to the pavements in Bandra. Her wedding jewelry cost as much as I got for selling my apartment in Bombay (many eons ago, but still true story). My watch is a freebie from signing up for a checking account at Citibank (also many eons ago, when they had money to spare).

But now it’s wedding time and time for a Mommy Makeover. Awww ... my little girl, still believing in miracles.

We hit a few boutiques in Ahmedabad. The first was Elan in Gulbai Tekra. The ground floor had some nice kurtis and I picked up a fancy one. Yes, but that’s something you can wear to work, she says authoritatively.

I follow her downstairs meekly and she picks out an outfit. Ooooh, Mom, look!

But I can’t. I am blinded by the bling. They will be able to see me from the moon, I say and heave it back on the shelf, using two hands as the weight is like pathra ... and the price is like gold. Like I am ready to fork out $ 400 for something I will wear for a couple of hours, and for something I will never, EVER! wear again (except in my nightmares).





We move on. Next was a small boutique called Essence. We found it by mistake, looking for Shyamlal Bhumika, which is right next door. Excellent service by the sweet young owner Shaini. Aaah, this was more my style (and my wallet). Cute, funky clothes. Darling, chunky jewelry. I picked out an outfit.

MOM! You can’t wear that. It’s my reception, not the Masai Ball. Well, it did look kinda Afrikaani, but it was so cute. I bought it anyway, and maybe ...

Don’t even think about it, she says, as we leave the store.

Sheesh! I wonder, where did she get those bossy genes?









Shopping Information:

Essence Boutique: 5 & 6 Akik Complex, Opp. Lemon Tree Hotel, Mithakali Six Roads, Ahmedabad. Tel: 79 3251 8155. Contact Shaini Shah.

Elan: Hill Plaza, Opp Sears Towers, Gulbai Tekra, Ahmedabad. Tel: 792656 9699

Jagruti: 37 Nutan Society, Suvidha Shopping Center, Paldi, Ahmedabad. Tel: 79 2665 1501

Gunthan: 1 Sunrise Ave., Commerce 6 Road, Navrangpura, Ahmedabad. Tel: 79 2640 3119