The New Sartorialist

Even before the stroke of the midnight hour  when India awoke to life and freedom, her political leaders had already found their feet on the world stage as far as fashion was concerned. Certain political figures have stuck in our minds for the distinctive head-turning and individualistic styles as much as their ideologies or their theories on nationhood. Their looks have been emblazoned in the public imagination and spawned many copycats over time and yet, the panache, grace and sheer magnificence of these original style gurus remain unmatched. Thus Jackie Kennedy’s bouffant and oversized sunglasses, Nelson Mandela’s silk hand-painted ‘Madiba’ shirts, Margaret Thatcher’s pearls and power suits, Benazir Bhutto’s pop lipstick and headscarf, Indira Gandhi’s grey streak and more recently Priyanka Gandhi’s earthy and elegant cotton saris, Vasundhra Raje’s chiffons are but a few of the unforgettable signature style statements that have carved their place in the annals of fashion.
The Mahatma’s homespun Khadi went on to take Indian ramps by the storm in the 21st century and even ended up being the chosen garb for the powerful Jedi knights in the Star Wars films! As a symbol of Swadeshi nationalism, khadi kurtas and saris became the de facto politician’s uniform, making a strong statement and establishing the socialist agenda of dynastic heads.  
Jawaharlal Nehru was the political fashion icon of our times and his Nehru Jacket has revolutionised the world of Indo-western men’s fashion. His bandhgala, which evolved from the Mughal-style achkan, a fitted jacket with full sleeves and a single row of buttons down the chest with a short collar around the neck gave the jacket its name—the bandhgala. Add to this, the rose tucked into a buttonhole, the fitted churidar and the distinguished topi—it is little wonder that Nehru made it to Time magazine’s list of the top ten political fashion statements of all time.
In what is an ironic twist, Nehru’s true fashion progenitor is not his sneaker-wearing great grandson Rahul, but our newest Prime Minister, Narendra Modi who is a proud ambassador of India’s acche din as well as her fashion to a global audience. Resplendent in his bright yellow, orange and even pale pink half-sleeved kurtas and matching bandi (sleeveless bandhgala jackets) sets, stretched taut over his ‘56-inch chest,’ Modi is a man who understands the importance of a well-cut garment. The NaMo kurta is a reflection of his cult of the individual that has completely changed the dynamics of Indian politics as well as politicians on a world stage.   
From the early crisp saffron kurtas stitched at the posh Gujarat-based Jade Blue boutique to an elaborate wardrobe planned by fashion designer Troy Costa, Modi’s fashion spends and scope might have changed but his sartorial taste has remained ascendant. The pastel kurtas, paisley shawls, wine-coloured bandhgalas, rimless glasses, flamboyant pagdis, ethnic headgear and even an occasional cowboy hat is carried off by this often controversial and eyeball-grabbing figure with great aplomb. 
Although Nehru and Modi might be entirely divided on political, ideological and party lines, this ubiquitous Indian jacket brings them together. Indeed, with Modi’s appointment, the bandhgala is back on the world political stage with a bang. And its has got a new lease of life in its funky 21st-century NaMo avatar. 

(this was published in the New Indian Express Bangalore on 3 November 2014)

the young and restless clothes maiden

It was a bright Saturday morning, the kind of day you'd imagine that pretty young things would be lunching with friends or sunning themselves at the park, instead, here they were at a mall, standing in a serpentine queue (at a quick count I estimated nearly 150 people standing in line) for a chance to catch the opening of the much-awaited affordable and trendy high-street fashion store--Forever 21.

On the selfsame Saturday afternoon, the borderline decrepit Garuda Mall in Bangalore was dotted with young girls and well preserved older women carrying the huge signature bright-yellow shopping bags. Some, barely able to contain their excitement had upended their bags on the benches outside the store and were comparing notes about their loot with friends.

The queue that I contemplated standing in for precisely two seconds, was full of young girls 21 and younger, dressed in their fashionable best with candy coloured lips and skinny jeans in pop colours. Pop and indie dance music boomed from the interiors of the store (special note must be made of Sia's Chandelier which has lodged itself in my head as a permanent earworm), keeping spirits buoyant. The girls (they were all women in all their late teen and early twenties, wit blazing hormones and dapper spirits. A few male stragglers stood around shuffling uncomfortably, no doubt waiting to surprise their girlfriends and win a few brownie points), stodd patiently conserving their energy reserves like sprinters waiting to take their turns at athletic heats.

The atmosphere was charged as the security guards would remove the ropes guarding the entrance and let the next group in. All around me I could here whispered asides about the fashion and affordability quotient of the brand that was enough to send young'uns into a tizzy. I shamelessly eavesdropped as one girl recounted stories of a sale at another Forever 21. There was jostling and pushing, tugging at errant arms and legs of the same pair of jeans and tops, and jackets and even shoes sent flying by the fashion marauders. This was a whole new retail experience, slightly surreal and entirely exciting.

 I was hardly a callow young girl and had few pretensions of being forever 21 in any part of my body apart from my head. Yet, even I wasn't immune to the attraction of this store, counting down the days till its opening. While, I made it a point to shop it big brands only during the sale season, this store offered stylish alternatives of the same outfits at full price that were otherwise available on some lucky days on some backstreet alley export rejects store. While, out of respect for my age, I didn't stand in the queue and returned in the evening, I also did get my Forever 21 fix on the very first day that it opened.

By the time I returned to the store, the staff was seemingly on their last legs. There were mountains of tried and discarded outfits just about everywhere. The brave would stick their arms in and pull out gems fro those selfsame pile, while a more lazy shopper like me dawdled through the stands of the sprawling 8000 sq feet of neon-lit space and picked up bits and bobs in various shades of black that suited my age and body type. Showcasing their winter line, the orderly display had, by 9 pm, turned into one large blur of plaid minis, woolly shrugs, faux leather jackets, trendy tan-coloured workman boots and distressed denims. It was also populated with dazed boyfriends, tired mothers and giggly girls whose energy had not waned in the least after standing in lines for the changing room, lines for bills and lines to reach particular stands.

As I managed to grab my purchases and make my way to the billing counter without losing either limb or life, I spotted a pile of ankle socks with little pugs, kitties and lions going rrrr and realized that it is perhaps this quirky take on style that makes every shopper here truly feel the lightness of youth!

(this was published in the New Indian Express, Bangalore on 24 November 2014)