My sister’s getting married in December. Isn’t that wonderful?
It IS wonderful in every possible way, and I am so happy for
her, especially since the man she is going to marry exhibits all signs of
wonderfulness himself, including a tendency to make random jokes in his head
and then laugh out loud merrily and un-selfconsciously. For example, yesterday
evening when they were over, I caught him craning his head to get a good look
at the ceiling light of our drawing room.He caught me eyeing him curiously and grinned widely ‘That’s
a CFL bulb’ and burst into loud laughter. I have a soft corner for people who
actually enunciate each Ha in their Hahahahahahaha and so smiled, feeling a
little bewildered all the same. My sister intervened to explain that it had
something to do with a work project that is currently occupying the fiance’s
mind, perhaps a private joke. I didn’t probe the matter any further. I remember
the way my sister used to look at Vijay before we got married, and for a while
after, heck to this day – the expression suggesting ‘Oh he’s very sweet but a
bit mad.’ Which is actually about right.
Anyway, so it’s wonderful that she’s getting married, except
that it involves my getting clothes. Now, even for my own wedding 12 years ago
( GodDAMN!), I didn’t bother with too much shopping, leaving it to the mother and
some help from the sister, although she was a barely-twenty college type at the
time. I had a beautiful lehenga at my wedding and a very nice sari. I pretty
much never wore the sari again, and the lehenga was pulled out for a wedding a
few years ago, and it was discovered that it was so loose for me that it had to
be safety-pinned. My sister was not impressed.
She had been chasing me for a while now about the wedding
outfit and I had been deftly avoiding the question. The feeling of dread was
growing though – she warned me that it wasn’t so easy to get stuff done at the
last minute just before wedding season and therefore I should get my act
together. So finally, I did what I usually do in moments of personal crisis. I
turned to my other sisters in the Gurgaon Moms forum and asked them what the
hell I could do about getting outfitted when I am the type who wears these
things only once and therefore hate spending a bomb on new stuff.
The moms jumped in with a bunch of fabulous suggestions and
encouragement as usual, but the one that appealed most to me was to go to this
Lady in Gurgaon who runs a business out of her basement, and is great at
converting old stuff into spankin’ new stuff. Now this was great, I thought. I
ran the idea past my sister who was not altogether pleased saying that I was
the BIG sister and I should wear SOMETHING new. I negotiated with her that I
would indeed buy SOMETHING new for one or maybe two of the functions, but why not at least check out what was
possible with the old stuff.
And with that, another two weeks passed, with my doing
nothing further on the subject. Until Wednesday.
Since it was a holiday due to elections ( I voted by the way
– did you?) I requested my sister to come along with me as I went to visit the
Lady in her Basement. Being the rather good-natured and helpful sort, the
sister agreed and landed up this morning at the stated time of 10.30. I of
course wasn’t ready, having busied myself with some other mundane errand of
sorting out some winter clothes and so I then rushed to get ready. Together we went
to the Lady, and soon, the conversation was going like this.
Lady (to me): ‘So which material do you think you want for
the blouse?’
Me: (shrugging) I dunno.
Sister: I think crepe, gorgette ( something about brocade)
Lady: (turning to her) Yes, and even silk would be an
option.
Sister: Yes, but…
Me: ( Doo-doo, la, la la…)
Lady (to me): ‘Don’t you think we should look at adding a
tinge of orange to this?
Me: (aghast) Orange? I dunno…
Sister (nodding slowly) Yes. Yes. Yes, actually, that would
make all the difference. It will really brighten it up, and we can do the same
with the dupatta.
Lady (turning to her) Isn’t it? How about this shade? Or
something like this?
Sister : This one, I think. Definitely.
Me: (Doo-doo…la, la, la)
Lady (to me): And the sleeve length that you’d like for
this?
Me: Huh? I dunno.
Sister: This will look nice sleeveless only
Lady: Yes, I have some good options. This one, with this
back? This material here is wonderful sequin work, very in these days.
Me: (trying to contribute) Sleeveless? But it’s December, it
will be cold.
(Blank looks from both the women, and then they turn back to
their discussion)
Sister: This back looks a little better, I think, it will go
well with the traditional look of the material.
Lady: Exactly what I was thinking, it will complement it
very well.
Me: (Doo-doo, la, la, la)
So you get the picture. I pretty much shut up after that and
let the two of them make the decisions for me. So some refurbished outfits were agreed
upon, and I am now on the prowl for something ‘new’ as promised to my sister.
It’s her big day and apparently as the REAL sister, I’m not supposed to be able
to let her down in this clothing department. Damn.
In the car on the way back, she remarked ‘You know, I was
wondering why you’d need me for something like this.’
I asked her wryly ‘Do you not know me at ALL?’
She nodded to herself. ‘I understand totally. Just make sure
when you go to her for the actual fitting that everything actually FITS, okay?’
‘Okay.’ The doubt in my voice must have given me away.
‘YOU CAN HANDLE THAT, RIGHT?’ My sister was gazing at me
through narrowed eyes.
‘Sure.’I hesitated. ‘It’s just that…I find it difficult to
say no. If they tell me it fits, I’ll say yes and walk away with it.’
‘NO!’ My sister shouted. ‘How can you not know if something
is too loose or too tight?’
‘I DUNNO’ I cried. ‘I guess I feel that might be how it’s
SUPPOSED to be or something!’
Stony silence.
‘We can do it on a weekend?’ I offered tentatively.
‘Fine.’ She growled at me.
She seemed to calm down after a while, and then asked ‘And
what about Vijay? Has he thought about what he’s going to wear for all the
functions?’
Me ( Staring out of the window, pretending I haven’t heard
her, starting to hum to myself) Doo-doo, la, la, la…
