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| So Sari; Nice piece of writing about changing culture | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jul 30 2010, 07:20 PM (396 Views) | |
| Piano*Dad | Jul 30 2010, 07:20 PM Post #1 |
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Bull-Carp
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The Unraveling The Unraveling By RANJANI IYER MOHANTY Published: July 30, 2010 NEW DELHI — Gone are the days when women would come up to my mother on the streets of Edmonton, Canada, and ask her how she managed to keep such a long and lovely piece of cloth from falling off. Since the 1970s, the sari has become fashionable in the West, but in India — where a woman’s identity is often wrapped up in this simple, traditional attire — its popularity is starting to unravel. Like most Indian girls, my grandmother, who began her life in Suchindram, a tiny village in South India near Kanya Kumari, began to wear a sari when she reached puberty. It was six yards of material, wrapped around and tucked into a petticoat, and draped over the left shoulder on top of a short blouse. She had cotton ones for everyday wear and silk for special occasions. She got married at the age of 14, fortunately to a very good man, and had my mother, the first of five children, at the age of 16. As her children grew, she should in all likelihood have graduated from the 6-yard to the 9-yard sari, but somehow no one had the heart to impose it on this diminutive woman, standing barely 4 feet 10 inches tall. She seemed to need all her strength for the multitudinous tasks thrust upon her, without having to carry around another 3 yards of cloth. Then, when she was 39 years old, her husband suddenly died. According to strict tradition, she should have traded in her colorful saris for pure white ones. But her children put their foot down, saying it was sad enough that they had lost their father; they didn’t also want to aggravate it by stripping all the color from their mother’s life. So she continued living in her saris, and as she aged, mostly Kanjeevarams. Named after a small temple town near Chennai and known for its silk weaving, these saris came in deep colors, and were thought socially appropriate for elderly South Indian women. My mother too began wearing saris in her teens and wore them throughout her early married years in Mumbai. She wore one when we arrived in Edmonton in December 1969: It was minus 40 degrees Fahrenheit. In the beginning of our life there, she even wore them to work. But after a couple of winters battling to manage a sari under a heavy winter coat and snow boots, she slowly began wearing pants. They were more comfortable and practical. Now retired and having lived more than 40 years in Canada, she reserves saris for social occasions: dinners with friends, weekly trips to the temple, and visits in India. She still has a great fondness for and appreciation of saris, and will remember precisely who wore what sari where. And no special occasion is complete without her presenting me with one ... which I dutifully put away in my closet. My closet is now located in Delhi. It is full of exquisite saris, all shades and styles, all expensive, all presents, mostly unworn. My mom thinks that since I live in India now, surely I’ll be wearing saris more often, but somehow they rarely come to hand. I was spoiled by growing up in Calgary with jeans and t-shirts, and I still turn instinctively to my comfort clothes. I do wear saris about three times a year but the occasion had better be pretty darn special for me to consider getting one out. And if I’m bad, my teenage daughter is worse: She lives her life mostly in shorts, which she feels are ideally suited to the Delhi climate. I have to argue with her to get into the occasional salwar kameez — they are just basically pants with a long top, I say to convince her. This is not just a reflection of her Westernized upbringing: On the streets of Delhi, or any large Indian city, you’ll see fewer and fewer saris, particularly on the younger women. It seems to be a matter of comfort, having and exercising choice, and perhaps even a refusal on the part of many Indian women to be the repository of traditional fashion. I was the eldest grandchild and therefore had the privilege of knowing my grandmother the longest. When she lived with us for a few years in Canada, I would sometimes sleep next to her on school holidays so we could talk late into the night. I asked her once why she didn’t wear a sleeping dress to bed. She laughed, saying that it certainly looked more comfortable, but she had lived in a sari and would probably die in a sari. My grandmother passed away several years ago. I have one of her saris in my closet. It is deep-blue silk, and has small checks and a simple border. I sometimes touch it and smell it to see if I can catch a trace of her. I haven’t worn it yet. Ranjani Iyer Mohanty is a writer and academic/business editor. |
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| Axtremus | Jul 30 2010, 08:24 PM Post #2 |
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HOLY CARP!!!
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The Indians are changing their cultures a lot more slowly than the Chinese. The Chinese had their "cultural revolution" that really f*'ed up lots of things, but also functioned like a big purge and reset button that let the Chinese adopt modern (Western) norms a lot faster than the other Eastern races. The Indians, lacking any trauma bordering the scale of the "great leap forward," seem to have managed to smoothly slow-roll their cultural changes despite the British rule over their colonial years. |
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| blondie | Jul 31 2010, 06:07 AM Post #3 |
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Bull-Carp
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Oh gosh. They are so beautiful. I had a prof from India. She held a sari party once where other ladies learned how to dress themselves in them. How cool is that eh. I always wanted to wear one. One of my coolest drapery projects was done in sari fabric (actually they were polyester but looked like silk). 6 Yards a piece; relatively inexpensive as far as fabric goes. I got the idea after eating in an Indian restaurant where the light shined through these wonderful multi colored sheer saris. Such rich colors, beaded, gold embroideries. Exquisite. The fabrics were 1 top reason I wanted to travel to India. |
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| Phlebas | Jul 31 2010, 06:11 AM Post #4 |
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Bull-Carp
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He first time I saw a Sari was when I was 10. My dad moved us to Champaign, IL for the summer - a university town - to study for his PhD. There were a lot of Indian profs, and students there. I thought they were beautiful and exotic. |
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Random FML: Today, I was fired by my boss in front of my coworkers. It would have been nice if I could have left the building before they started celebrating. FML The founding of the bulk of the world's nation states post 1914 is based on self-defined nationalisms. The bulk of those national movements involve territory that was ethnically mixed. The foundation of many of those nation states involved population movements in the aftermath. When the only one that is repeatedly held up as unjust and unjustifiable is the Zionist project, the term anti-semitism may very well be appropriate. - P*D | |
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| blondie | Jul 31 2010, 06:14 AM Post #5 |
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Bull-Carp
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Exotic and sensual. Too bad the young girls don't appreciate that. I remember hearing, if wrapped properly, a lady could walk/manage quite well in them. I wonder how true this is: |
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| Axtremus | Jul 31 2010, 06:50 AM Post #6 |
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HOLY CARP!!!
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How do maintain (keep clean) a sari? It seems so fragile, can you just toss it into the washer/dryer? |
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| Piano*Dad | Jul 31 2010, 07:38 AM Post #7 |
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Bull-Carp
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| Phlebas | Jul 31 2010, 08:08 AM Post #8 |
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Bull-Carp
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A product that you can market equally well in Hats off to Whirlpool! |
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Random FML: Today, I was fired by my boss in front of my coworkers. It would have been nice if I could have left the building before they started celebrating. FML The founding of the bulk of the world's nation states post 1914 is based on self-defined nationalisms. The bulk of those national movements involve territory that was ethnically mixed. The foundation of many of those nation states involved population movements in the aftermath. When the only one that is repeatedly held up as unjust and unjustifiable is the Zionist project, the term anti-semitism may very well be appropriate. - P*D | |
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| ivorythumper | Jul 31 2010, 11:12 AM Post #9 |
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I am so adjective that I verb nouns!
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I bought a whole bunch of saris when I was in India, and used them to drape over curtain rods for window treatments. I love the patterns. |
| The dogma lives loudly within me. | |
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| jon-nyc | Jul 31 2010, 11:34 AM Post #10 |
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Cheers
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Rachel wore a sari to a wedding we went to in India, if I were home I'd post a picture. |
| In my defense, I was left unsupervised. | |
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| Piano*Dad | Jul 31 2010, 11:40 AM Post #11 |
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Bull-Carp
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Was she taught the process or did she already know how to wrap up? |
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| jon-nyc | Jul 31 2010, 11:42 AM Post #12 |
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Cheers
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Good question, I think the place in queens that sold it to her taught her. But I'd have to ask. |
| In my defense, I was left unsupervised. | |
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A product that you can market equally well in

5:02 PM Jul 10