White Lady in a Sari

Yep, that's how I felt.

This all started when my colleague Sunitha handed me some turquoise cotton fabric and said, "Go have a sari blouse stitched. You'll look nice in a sari."

Ok, fine. All the lady teachers were waiting to see me in a sari, so I thought I'd spice things up a bit at Primrose and come to school all dolled up.

I took the fabric to my lady tailor, she took my measurements (also tickled pink that a white lady wanted to wear a sari) and said "Come back in a week". I left, and immediately turned around and went back to ask for a small swatch of the fabric. She looked at me like she didn't understand and I explained, "I need to go buy a sari to match. I don't have one yet!" This set them all laughing hysterically, because usually you buy your sari first, and then buy the fabric for the blouse to match. "Long story," I said. "Long story!" she echoed in stitches.

Sari shopping proved to be more difficult than I imagined. You can buy silk saris which are beautiful and expensive. Cotton saris I am also attracted to, but you have to iron them like crazy (6 meters of them), they are caked with five layers of starch and I have no idea how many washings it would take to get that out, plus the Indian ladies tell me they are difficult to tie. Synthetic saris are the everyday sari of choice because they are thin, easily draped and tied, affordable and iron-free. Unfortunately, they come in the most hideous patterns and colors I've ever seen. Perhaps that sounds cruel to say, but I mean come on -- India's traditional textiles and patterns are BEAUTIFUL and number one on my list. The catch is, India is going thru it's "late 70's" phase of fashion (more on this later), so all these women want orange and lime green patterned sari's with "modern" flower patterns on them. Bad bad bad. I would find a sari I liked the pattern of, and it would be yellow. I also wanted the turquoise color to be the accent color, not the main color. I found a white sari with a peacocks all over it in purple, blue, green and turquoise. An option, despite the glitter dots.

Over tea with my best neighbor friend Vidyia, I told her about my sari dilema. I also told her about the peacock sari, which I was hesitating on because to me peacocks represent vanity and I didn't want that to be my message. She agreed "No," on the peacock sari. "Kate, that is very old-fashioned, the peacock. There are many nice contemporary designs that will suit you. Go for one of those." I nodded my head. She gave me a lovely pair of white sari earrings with dangling faux pearls that I could wear when I finally found my sari. She would also be there for me in the morning to help me put the damn thing on.

Ok, so I found and acceptable sari, picked up my blouse and tried it on. What a ridiculous little garment! The sari blouse is a bralette with sleeves made to fit your body like a glove. I've never had something custom tailored to fit me, and when I put this thing on I couldn't believe how perfect it was. There is no elastic, no give in a sari blouse. So when I put my arm in the sleeve I thought "Oh no, my big bicept will never fit in this sleeve...." But magically, it did. The circumfrence of the sleeve was exactly that of my bicept.

Sari Monday rolled around, and Vidyia showed up with pins on her chain to tie it around me. The mystery of the sari was revealed to me. It's sort of like doing oragami around your body, with all the pleats, folds and tucks. Definitely takes practice.

I put on my makeup, my bindi and my earrings and felt rather grand. I walked to catch the school bus and the bus was way late. So waiting on the hot street for an extra 20 minutes I cooked in my sari while sweating profusely. "Great, I'm going to arrive at school in my sari and five inch pit stains". Then when I stepped up into the bus I stepped on my front pleat and they pulled out a little. I was a total novice.

My friend Sheila got on the bus and just screamed in delight. There were many shock reactions and double takes from the teachers. Everyone was quite surprised and many people told me how beautiful I looked. Ravi Shankar the Hindi teacher shook my hand and said, "Ah Kate, so now you are becoming a real Indian woman." My response was, "Yeah, something like that."

I found Sunitha. Her jaw dropped when she saw me and I said, "You know, I did this for you." I got myself to the staff room and instantly Annuradha, the Tamil teacher who wears a sari everyday and is quite the expert, got to work retying/tucking my sari without my consent. Hands all over me. Three teachers quickly fixing my sari and giggling at my white belly before I went to class. The students of course loved it, and even days later students who I don't even know came up to me to tell me how fine I looked.


At the end of the day, it wasn't so bad. Oh but it wasn't over. Shanta Devi grabbed me when the bell rang and said, "I'm going to make your sari proper." I think everyone just wanted to dress me like a doll. Actually, Shanta Devi's sari tying was the best of the lot-- sharp creases, nice and tight. The magical fold is the one that tightly comes around your back, rounds your waist on the left, than pins at the correct spot close to your right thigh to make a nice figure-hugging line. She did it right. When I got off the school bus I went straight to my tailor to show her. I met her in the street and she grabbed me and yelled, "SUPER!" with a huge smile on her face. I went to the vegetable stand on my street to buy a few things to make dinner, and actually did sort of feel like an Indian lady.

The next day at school, I felt like I was wearing pajamas in my loose cotton dress and pant set. "No sari today?" everyone asked. "I only have one sari! So far...."