A few months ago, Shashi Tharoor wrote an essay which contained a “casual observation” about how less and less women in India were wearing saris. Upon hearing about his thoughts, desi women all over the world gifted Shashi with a new orifice, via email, blog, essay, and voodoo doll. A few women, my curmudgeonly mother included, agreed with Tharoor’s lament; like him, they were saddened by the ascent of the Salwar Kameez.
[I do think that Malayalees who are my Mom’s/Shashi’s age are extra vexed by how the sartorial times, they are a-changin’, since they so strongly identify saris as part of the Mallu identity, but more on that later. Or not.]
Tharoor wrote a follow-up piece recently, which I discovered via the news tab. I’ve excerpted the yummier parts for your digestion.
On how graceful and pretty saris are:
For centuries, if not millennia, the alluring garment, all five or six or nine yards of it, has been the defining drape of Indian womanhood. Cotton or silk, Banarasi or Pochampalli, shimmering Kanjeevaram or multi-coloured bandhani, with the pallav draped front-to-back over the left shoulder or in the Gujarati style back-to-front over the right, the sari has stood the test of time, climate and body shape.
Of all the garments yet invented by man (or, not to be too sexist about it, mankind) the sari did most to flatter the wearer. Unlike every other female dress on the planet, the sari could be worn with elegance by women of any age, size or shape: you could never be too fat, too short or too ungainly to look good in a sari. Indeed, if you were stout, or bowlegged, or thick-waisted, nothing concealed those handicaps of nature better than the sari. Women looked good in a sari who could never have got away with appearing in public in a skirt.
Tharoor is less caustic and more rational than my elderly Aunts are, about how much the North is to blame:
So why has this masterpiece of feminine attire begun fading from our streets? On recent visits home to India I have begun to notice fewer and fewer saris in our public places, and practically none in the workplace. The salwar kameez, the trouser and even the Western dress-suit have begun to supplant it everywhere. And this is not just a northern phenomenon, the result of the increasing dominance of our culture by Punjabi-ised folk who think nothing of giving masculine names to their daughters.
At a recent Press conference I addressed in Trivandrum, there were perhaps a dozen women journalists present. Only one was wearing a sari: the rest, all Keralites without exception, were in salwar-kameezes. And when I was crass enough to ask why none of the “young ladies†present wore saris, the one who did modestly suggested that she was no longer very young.
Actually, it’s the youths! And the feminists!
Youth clearly has something to do with it; very few of today’s under-30 women seem to have the patience for draping a sari, and few of them seem to think it suitable for the speed with which they scurry through their lives. (“Try rushing to catch a bus in a sari,†one young lady pointedly remarked, “and you’ll switch to jeans the next day.â€)
But there’s also something less utilitarian about their rejection of the sari for daily wear. Today’s younger generation of Indian women seem to associate the garment with an earlier era, a more traditional time when women did not compete on equal terms in a man’s world. Putting on pants, or a Western woman’s suit, or even desi leggings in the former of a salwar, strikes them as more modern.
Freeing their legs to move more briskly than the sari permits is, it seems, a form of liberation; it removes a self-imposed handicap, releasing the wearer from all the cultural assumptions associated with the traditional attire.
I’ve noticed this about brown people, too. We are the last ones to keep it old skool in our “costumes” (Blech. I hate that word. As if I’d wear Kanjeevaram on October 31. Meh.):
I think this is actually a great pity. One of the remarkable aspects of Indian modernity has always been its unwillingness to disown the past; from our nationalists and reformers onwards, we have always asserted that Indians can be modern in ancient garb. Political ideas derived from nineteenth and twentieth-century thinkers have been articulated by men in mundus and dhotis that have not essentially changed since they were first worn two or three thousand years ago. (Statuary from the days of the Indus Valley Civilisation more than four thousand years ago show men draped in waistcloths that Mr Karunanidhi would still be happy to don.)
Gandhiji demonstrated that one did not have to put on a Western suit to challenge the British empire; when criticised by the British Press for calling upon the King in his simple loincloth, the Mahatma mildly observed, “His Majesty was wearing enough clothes for the two of usâ€. Where a Kemal Ataturk in Turkey banned his menfolk’s traditional fez as a symbol of backwardness and insisted that his compatriots don Western hats, India’s nationalist leaders not only retained their customary headgear, they added the defiantly desi “Gandhi cap†(oddly named, since Gandhiji himself never wore one). Our clothing has always been part of our sense of authenticity.
I REMEMBER being struck, on my first visit to Japan some fifteen years ago, by the ubiquitousness of Western clothing in that Asian country. Every Japanese man and woman in the street, on the subway or in the offices I visited wore suits and skirts and dresses; the kimono and its male equivalent were preserved at home, and brought out only for ceremonial occasions…
What will happen once the generation of women who grew up routinely wearing a sari every day dies out? The warning signs are all around us now. It would be sad indeed if, like the Japanese kimono, the sari becomes a rare and exotic garment in its own land, worn only to temples and weddings.
Find the rest of his essay here. Thoughts?
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Anyone who makes my heart swell by calling me a term of endearment I haven’t heard in over two decades gets what they want. 🙂 Wish everyone were this easy to please.
Click to enlarge.
I’ve read many of the comments below, which celebrate the beauty of wearing a sari “Gujurati-ishtyle”. While I have done that (with this very sari even!), I must gently demur– wearing one’s pallu the “boring” way ain’t so bad, I promise. 😉
And yes, all my blouses are that conservative. Not a word, brown fashionistas. Not. a. word.
Arem, no disrespect to the “big women.” If they are happy with how they look, more power to them, I envy them for their self confidence in fact. I was commenting on the writer’s claim that saris were “flattering” to everyone.
sari virgin, i’m glad ANNA put up that post because it gives you another idea of a less revealing way to tie the saree. since you have a basic concern, make sure not to tie the saree too low (i.e. tie it like ANNA) at the waist, and make sure the pallu is wide enough at the shoulder so that it hangs over a bit (as in both photos here, ut the way ANNA does it is the more common way for brides). also, if you like your arms, shoulders etc – the blouse makes a huge difference – get something that has a nice, wide neckline or cap sleeves, so that it draws the attention up there, and make sure it’s hits about mid-ribcage and not too much higher. unlike others, i do not think gujarati style is the way to go always – i find it makes one look more ‘puffy’ esp. with thicker silks and if you do not have super-slip hips – the common style actually slims everything down visually. but it does all depend on how you make adjustments in either style.
It’s nice you think she’s a decent writer who should be held to higher standards, but personally, I thought the comments were petty. If you wanted to give her a grammar lesson, why not email it privately? And is it fair to constantly fling “higher standards” about, especially to someone who isn’t a writer by profession? What are realistic expectations? Are we treating this like someone’s hobby or their job?
It’s easy for us to say “perhaps people shouldn’t be making noise” online, but if they can’t find guest bloggers, we all lose. There are only so many people who want to put up with the scrutiny, who have the time, etc. Why put another check on the negative side of a potential “pros and cons” list.
I also think it’s a valid concern which raises issues of privilege and ability, as odd as that initially sounds. What if someone just isn’t good at English? Are they unwelcome in this space? What if they went to schools which didn’t teach grammar (it happens– many places half-ass it with “literature” and nothing more in “English” class)? I’m not trying to derail the discussion or hurt anyone’s feelings. Your decision to criticize grammar was thought-provoking, that’s all.
Thanks for posting this, ANNA.
I want to register my sari love. I think it’s elegant and flattering to us rounder, hippier brown gals. The colors! The borders! I only bust one out a few times a year, but I know I carry myself differently when I wear one. Evening gowns? Pshaw. I think it’s a shame that saris and salwar kameez are being relegated to “ethnic clothing” sections at Indian department stores.
Amazingly, my raised-in-India BF isn’t so big on saris.
shalu, i find melbourne desi to be consistently genuine, and he has also mentioned his thappal experience at least once before.
ANNA, you look great! very interesting colour combination – it looks great with your skin tone. though as a fellow somewhat blouse-conservative, i have recently discovered how much of a difference cap sleeves make when wearing kanjeevarams!
I thought that I had made clear that the grammar comment was “pedantic and asinine” (unfortunately one of the hazards of my occupation). Anyways I regret making it now (since all sorts are intentions are generally imputed, not without cause).
NVM, you just don’t sit cross-legged. You sit either on your knees (straight up) or on your knees with your legs slightly to the side. Generally, this is what you have to do in a lengha also to avoid looking like an idiot. The plus side is that you have to get up and walk 4 times anyway, and the Sikh marriage ceremony (the religious part) is only ~20 minutes long. At the reception you’re usually sitting in a chair, so no harm there.
how does one go about undressing a grl in a sari in a smooth way. i understand western dress. just not sure how i would go about attacking the sari (never been with a sari clad grl). any thoughts?
I agree. And I would extend the same concern when it comes to listening to people with desi accents. Having said that, I think, to be an even more effective writer/communicator, it doesn’t hurt to improve on the job–er, hobby–as the opportunities come along.
Pondatti, Whether A N N A is aware or not, there is a brand A N N A phenomenon going on, and as in all such situations, there is likely to be strong reactions as well as support; a continuum extending from fawning to “teaching” to mild criticisms to harsh rebukes (sometimes from the same person, depending on their pet peeves and personal expectations of high standards; profession and training or personal experiences). It is up to her to take what is needed and GROW and leave the rest. And if she has lasted 3 years, then I think she is doing fine. Something tells me she will survive.
What she needs, if she doesn’t already have it, is an open mind and a hippo hide.
P.S. My grammar is so bad that I wouldn’t even have noticed the slip if it hadn’t been pointed out. And I suspect, so would half the people here.
These shows are the worst…arrogance and smugness of a sort that rivals that of the Saudis (to harken to another current thread). Bunch of English-speaking, evening-gown wearing, snobby, westernised to the core people, supposedly celebrating the Hindi film industry which has made them rich, but which they actually have nothing in common with. Even Amitabh Bachchan, that most excellent of Hindi-speakers, tacitly gives support to the notion that English is the best, by always speaking English at these shows.
i don’t know, amitabh – so much of it has to do with education and family environment. in my family in india, for instance, all my cousins are english-educated, but only a few speak english on a regular basis – for the others, english is not a language with which they feel comfortable. however, i have one cousin who categorically refuses to speak in either tamil or telugu, probably because after she started school, her parents stopped speaking with her in telugu, and otherwise she seems to have no need for anything more than basic tamil. i think whether people are fluent in native indian languages has somewhat to do with their education, as well as whether they constantly hear the language at home. i wouldn’t fault people for whom, in many ways, this pattern was set during their formative years, when they had very little choice about it. even AB, whose hindi is beautiful, might not feel as comfortable in it, or think primarily in hindi. this is more a sign of the times, class, and education than a voluntary seeking out of all things western. though, as to these awards shows, yes – they are rather constructed. however, i think it would be more than a little hypocritical to deny indians in india the adoption/adaptation of western ways that they prefer for their particular lifestyles when DBDs and ABDs have done the same living in a western country. after all, one can argue that at least they still choose to live in india. as for women wearing evening gowns – as many have said, why the double standard? i am sure maybe 5% (max) of the men at these shows are wearing indian formal wear, yet nobody seems to think this is a sign of westernisation.
Amitabh, I would argue that they are only delivering what is expected of them; that they are taking that final step in their jouney of making films/dreamworlds that are so ‘westernized’ (sometimes blatant copies of ‘western’ films). Why should they bother breakign the mould and showing any originality in that last step?
I don’t know about Zee Cine awards (are they for an Indian audience?) but several of these ‘award shows’ are just shows for desis in the diaspora in the west/middle east/Africa (Example, Bollywood awards; IIFA); often businessmen on these sides of the world are in it to make money from the diaspora. So I suspect they will always be conducted in English.
Here is Anna’s lookalike:
Enjoy
Amitabh,
Can you please let people in India decide how they want to live their lives and what language they want to communicate in? This sanctimonious lecturing is getting tired and because of your ranting the thread will quickly be derailed into English versus local language bitchfest.
Ok here is a statistic question – why is that on SM whatever ANNA blog-posts gets the maximum response/comments as compared to others ? Is this some kind of female conspiracy or that most who post comments are guys and therefore have a soft-corner for ANNA. I think there is also probably some sexist or gender bias here going on SM 😉
As a female with no particular soft-corner for ANNA (not that there’s anything wrong with that), I’d have to say most of her topics are easy to banter about i.e. Sari’s, eyebrows and the Papaya.
Yes, and that also explains why the male bloggers at SM don’t have to tolerate constant abuse about their skin color, age, weight, education, marital status and intelligence. When they rarely get criticized, it’s rarely personal.
Recent topics have been left “wide open” to facilitate discussion, since posting volume is down for the summer. When there are six new posts a day (i.e. during “regular session”), the activity isn’t concentrated on any thread, no matter who blogged it, unless it’s controversial.
Anna I must say, even in a conservative outfit such as that bronze/taupe sari, you’re working it, girl.
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blockquote>I think there is also probably some sexist or gender bias here going on SM ;)
Saris for ’08!
This (2:38) is one technique that is usually a hit with the ladies.
Correct me if I am wrong, but I always thought that the sari was a “special occasion” dress in the north. It is more common everyday wear in the south.
My sister who is a software engineer finds it easier to commute in her salwar, but the minute she comes home, she changes into her sari. And just like girl kids here in the west who walk around in their mom’s shoes, I have known of / know of kids back home, who cannot wait to wear their mom’s saris.
What bothers me, is my mom and her change of attitude towards Kanchivaram. She decided a few years ago that because of the way silk is made, she would not wear any and decided to give away her amazing 20 year collection. They were not as awesome as our resident cuties saris, but they were good. This is an issue I am worried about.
Although at my end, I already have silk saris from kanchipuram on the top of my list when I take my girl home, pictures, posts and meetups should help keep the silk alive, at least in the SM community.
If you go by Indian movies, the only way seems to be pull the sari by force, then push the woman down, and then tear the front of the blouse, and then .. oh wait. is that all they have in indian movies – just sexual assault scenes?
Shocking! The real world has crept into the cyber world? Now that is news to me.
ooh and for people interested in variations of wearing saris, here is a very nice ad.
karthik, i think you can rest assure your fears. despite the somewhat decreased trend of silk saris (for whatever reasons), they are still the gold standard for weddings and other formal occasions in many parts of the south. occasionally, my mom even goes out to kanchi to select some saris, and this is not unheard of. though i must say, while i admire the kanjeevaram sari for its quality, it’s not the most flattering for the figure.
Camille, camille. My apologies for the usual tactless way I addressed the issue. I will wear a kurta for a day as penance. Even better I will take my bedsheet and use it as a lungi and walk the neighborhood street.
ANNA, now you must update this entry to include not only the sari pic of yourself you added, you must put a side by side comparison of you in a salwar, slacks, and Sari. This way, the readers can rank the pictures from 1 – 3 . Heh.
“What bothers me, is my mom and her change of attitude towards Kanchivaram. She decided a few years ago that because of the way silk is made, she would not wear any and decided to give away her amazing 20 year collection. They were not as awesome as our resident cuties saris, but they were good. This is an issue I am worried about.”
I have stopped buying Kanchi saris on this basis as well, though I wear the ones I already own. What exactly troubles you — choosing principles over fashion or tradition? Frankly, I have several of cute, machine-made synthetic saris with interesting patterns and I wear them damn well. And hey, some were only 200 Rs! I don’t need to be burdened with all that heavy Kanjeevaram silk, and I won’t miss the “compliments” (read: silly competitiveness) about my “grand” or expensive saris.
On another note, it is easy to drape your sari so that it completely covers your back and right midriff, leaving only a bit of the left side exposed. That itself can be covered by holding the pallu wisely or tucking it into the front (which I hate). Just pin yourself well.
daaaaaaammmmnnnnn how could you not want to wear that?!! I’d take that iris sari over twisting my ankle in platforms any day!
No wonder you get hollas in DC!!! 😉
pravin, was it you who stole my credit card information to rack up $80 on hotornot.com?!
Rahul, the game is over. It is time for you to own up to the duplicity. No, No! We need to prevail, we can continue this charade, it’s not even a charade. We are one. This is tearing me apart, all this lying, making myself out to be a plain old guy who spends too much time on the internet, when I am really just a a plain old boring guy who spends too much time on the internet? Alright, you need to stop, otherwise bad dreams will invade what is left of your sanity and I will crush your soul bit by bit.
Folks, it’s all ok. The soul of Rahul is one entity, indivisible, with google and youtube for all.
pp, the Borg remembers, and sends you birthday wishes, albeit a week late.
Really? I’ve been to many Sikhs weddings in America, Canada, England, and India and I have never, ever seen the bride wear a sari. Its almost always a lengha, and very few wear a salwaar kameez. But the salwaar kameez was more popular in the early 90’s. I’ve actually noticed that Punjabi Sikh women rarely wear saris at all, its rare to even see a wedding guest wear sari. Some women will change clothes for the reception and possibly wear a sari instead of another salwaar-kameez/lengha, but thats about it.
just from eyeballing some comments above, it seems many are miffed by the double standards on conservativeness in dress expected from men and women. Razib would probably fill in on the evolutionary psychology behind this, but isn’t that a standard feature shared across cultures — women are expected to be (and are) more conservative etcetera.
Second, poor Tharoor uncle only expressed his preference and lament — shouldn’t the poor fellow be allowed to do that?
Third, young uns do not just not like the sari coz its clumsy, but coz it does not accentuate the female figure the way other dresses could. Our preference for tradition should not blind us to that.
Fourth, the salwar kameez looks like a pyjama, and does not belong to teh workplace. Wear skirts or proper pants already.
what does a “not conservative” sari look like?
“And this is not just a northern phenomenon, the result of the increasing dominance of our culture by Punjabi-ised folk who think nothing of giving masculine names to their daughters.”
What a way to get your point across; point fingers, blame and don’t forget to offend.
Karthik, that’s what I thought as well. I remember being told only married women wear sari’s growing up.
I had issues wearing Salwar Kameez to Gurdwara as a child. Now I look forward to wearing a one, which has its own charm, to Gurdwara or other cultural/religious events. I did wear my first Sari at a friend’s wedding this summer. All my friends wore them to the reception for about the first 20 minutes. We changed into our team’s Salwar Kameez to do our dance and never changed back. We definitely dominated the dance floor in our bright green Patiala suits!
This is generational, but prior to about 1970 the common dress for Sikh weddings was the sari. Then it switches the the khagra/ghagra, then to the salwar-kameez (briefly), then to the lengha. It’s true that very few Punjabi Sikh women wear saris today, but they were more common in formal functions pre-1070s and up until the 80s if you were in Delhi/Chandigarh.
Way to phrase a request for cheesecake with innocent curiosity, Puliogre! 🙂
Also, in all this lamenting for the late great silk of the saris, let’s not forget this late great silk.
Is this considered a salwaar kameez, or is it called something else? The legs are much tighter.
@185 Camille:
Oh, I see, interesting. Do you know if there was difference between what Sikh village brides wore and what city brides wore for their wedding day?
naw dawg. i am actually curious. most of the people i ever see in saris are like 120 year old aunties. not sure what the younger set is wearing these days…
Well, if my comments are getting sanctimonious I guess I’d like to know that, but I’m just expressing my opinion. If things ever change for the better, it will have to be because of a realisation on people’s parts, a change in public perception, an awareness if you will..and while I don’t harbor delusions that my opinions are going to percolate to the masses and start a revolution, they can hopefully be one small voice in what might eventually be larger-scale efforts to value things in our heritage which are in danger. I think when it comes to some of these things, I see them a little differently than others do…because I try to look at trends and patterns, not isolated events. On the face of it, a Bollywood awards show is harmless, entertaining fluff…and I can (and have) enjoyed them on that level. But dig a little deeper, or analyse them a little more, and I think they are not only a symptom of what’s wrong, but also a contributing factor…so not so harmless after all. Of course people in India will do what they will do…but so much of it is just a herd mentality, unquestioning, following like sheep…tomorrow if Indian languages become ‘cool’ then everyone will jump right back into them. So nothing wrong with trying to raise awareness. Anyway, maybe I’ll give it somewhat of a rest…hmmm…maybe only one language-related diatribe a month, how’s that?
Ok, after making tens of comments, I decided I should finally wade through Tharoor’s article. How come nobody has commented on all his other hating in the article?
Indeed, if you were stout, or bowlegged, or thick-waisted, nothing concealed those handicaps of nature better than the sari.
If columnists were all obliged to be Ardhanarishwaras, we might be more even-handed in our judgements, but I doubt very much that all our columns would be worth reading.
Also, from the article:
I think Shashi Tharoor is special.
Sure, and we should be allowed to express our opinion about his(m) too. And which side of this debate do you come down on, Hypertree? Traditionalist or libertarian?
ak, you’re absolutely right, and this was one problem I had with the Shashi Tharoor article too.
On a completely serious, non rhetorical note, is it just me, or do other people generally find this kvetching about random aspects of our (or any) glorious culture supposedly on the wane annoying and twee?
He should not be allowed to get away with it. Every loss of freedom almost always begins with an innocous comment by one person as to how nice it would be to have others doing things differently. Any comment that seeks to judge others’ behaviour in matters that do not affect those who are doing the judgeing, should be squashed right away.
Now, if the person is powerful, or gets into a decision making role, “I wish more women would wear sarees” will translate into “Those women who do not wear sarees will be forced into 20 hours of community service” and then into “Women who wear clothes other than sarees will be arrested and charged with lewd conduct“. How do you think Saudi Arabia got this way?
This goes for all commentary that judges others’ behaviour in matters that are personal, like: “Who spends $200K on a sweet sixteen?” or “What kind of a person marries a tree to ward of manglik dosh?“
Someone was alleging that Amitabh is doing something similiar in comment #160 where he pointed out the hypocricy of the Bollywood caste. I disagree – I think Amitabh’s point is valid, because it clearly underlines the irony of the people who make a living off language A, but refuse to speak it and switch to language B when functions related to that industry are held.
If someone claims to stand for thrift and frugality, but spends $200K on his daughter’s sweet-16, then we have every right to ridicule the person. If a person pooh-pooh’s astrology all his/her life, but then weds a tree to ward off bad-luck, we have every right to put them in their place. But not otherwise.
M. Nam
Fine…one diatribe every two months.
No super-centenarian would wear this, of that I’m fairly sure.
This is a model? I never understood what people saw in PL.
The backless blouse/sari look has supposedly become very popular in Indian wedding receptions, much to the dismay of many Indian aunties. But, vaat to do? Kids these days!
Amitabh, with a trickle like that, how are you going to protect the sherwanis and saris of Sundar Hindustan from being submerged in the deluge of philistinism? That I (or anybody else) am not excited by it is no reason for you to censor yourself.
Best picture of anyone in a sari.
Rahul, i’m basically libertarian; i’m a traditionalist only in the sense that i look upon traditions as providing important clues about human nature, and about feasible and stable “rules” for a peoples with said nature. The past and traditions have a lot of information and wisdom even though they might look unfair or exploitative. In this case, with women increasingly in workplaces and running to catch buses and so on, it seems like a no-brainer that women not wear saris to work.
But there is an additional dynamic, which traditions provide information on. If one accepts that indian society is sexually conservative, then the stability of the repressive society starts getting frayed when women start dressing in halter tops and so on. Look at the salwar and saris and their billowing extraneous cloth: they do not do a woman’s figure justice, people’s nostalgia and traditionalism notwithstanding. So, if you’re gonna teach and brainwash your children to stay away from mingling with the opposite sex; then it is important you should also insist women wear cavernous saris and kameezes. If we tell the women — who have grown up being brainwashed with a bunch of repressive complexes — to wear whatever they want, then… well they are gonna feel confused and unhappy, and might well end up wearing cavernous salwar kameezes anyway.
The above discussion is moot in cities like Bombay; the repressive brainwashing is not that extant (luckily I grew up there); it is in cities like Chennai that the developing dynamic is interesting to watch.