So I just spent a morning drinking coffee and reading Vogue, so here's a post inspired by the magazines profiles of people and their fashion sense.
I spent most of my early years wearing whatever my parents bought for me. However, even given those limitations, I still found myself drawn to some key pieces that I still remember. My first favorite piece was a light blue dress, with pleated, gauzy sleeves, and a full pleated skirt. After I lovingly wore it for every party for years, I passed it on to my sister who wore it the same gusto. The next outfit I remember cherishing was a long-sleeved black velvet top with ruching paired with a pair of white jean shorts printed with small multicolored flowers. I wore it one summer to a spelling bee (which I of course won), but I don't know how I managed to wear long-sleeved velvet, in black no less, in the middle of an Atlanta summer.
I also remember a period in 6th or 7th grade, where I wore leggings everyday. I mixed up my Monday - Thursday leggings, but every Friday, I wore purple patterned leggings with a long-sleeve purple t-shirt, purple being my favorite color because it was my friend Megan's favorite color (I looked up to here even back then).
My first foray into defining my own sartorial sense was during a trip to India when I was 14. The rest of my Indian clothes were all picked by my parents during their more frequent trips or given as gifts by my relatives. So during this particular trip, our parents took my sister and I to a shop in Madras/Chennai to pick out selvars/churidars (basically a long top with pants). I remember we spent a while trying to decide what we wanted. I finally settled on a dark red cotton selvar with wide-legged pants, which were just becoming
de rigueur at the time. It was a soft cotton, as opposed to the shinier polyester which everyone in India seemed to love for its flashiness. The embroidery was the same dark red as the fabric, a huge step from the rest of the multicolored selvars I owned. Even the dupatta, or sash, was relatively minimalistic -- white crepey cotton with a dark red elegant floral pattern. I loved this to pieces -- and still do. I wore it as often as I could, washing it as infrequently as possible to preserve the color. I know realized that it fit me poorly (but as well as the rest of my Indian clothes) but I loved the simplicity and restraint of it. I still have it and try to wear it, even though the fabric has faded several shades and the embroidery is finally apparent as a result.
I looked back at some pictures of me during college, and while I thought back then I hadn't developed a sense of style, I see pieces and outfits that speak to the ladylike minimalism I am drawn to now. Even as a college student not used to spending money on clothes, I was drawn to pieces simple in coloring, but with some unique detail. I visited Chicago or New York once in college, and went straight to the H&M. There wasn't one in Atlanta at the time so whatever I picked up there would be one of a kind when I got home. I found this black cotton one-shouldered top. I loved its simplicity and uniqueness. That was my birthday top that year.
I spent some time earlier this year trying to shop for patterns to make my wardrobe a little less boring, but I've realized I just really like simplicity. Polka dots or stripes -- or the occasional watercolor or floral -- are about as bold as I will go. I also really like neutrals, but I'm trying to be better about branching out from black (at some point a few years ago I had 7 or 8 black dresses and 1 white one, and nothing else).
I find this more challenging when it comes to Indian clothes. Most of what I find -- especially in the smaller cities of South India -- tend to be colorful. I think the sensual silhouettes that define Indian clothing, especially saris, are elevated when they are designed in simple colors and patterns. Monochromatic saris really show off the intricacy of the draping and accentuate the figure that the sari creates. A family friend of mine gave me a purple silk sari edged in orange as an engagement present. I was initially skeptical of the color combination, but when I wore it, the simplicity of the design worked really well with the contrasting colors. The orange strip at the border replaced the traditional gold-embroidered border, and the patterns were woven into the fabric as a texture, rather than as a color. Ironically, this is one of my favorite saris now, but there are few occasions I can wear it to; unfortunately, even though it's made of a beautiful fabric, it's not blingy enough to fall into the category of "Indian formalwear."
I also remember being in an Indian beauty pageant between high school and college. Most of the girls, including me, wore their fanciest outfits for the Indian clothes portion. One girl stood out though -- she walked out in a beautifully draped, plain red sari -- no border, nothing. She really stood out because you could really see her, rather than the clothes. I'm still inspired by that outfit, and dream of buying a plain red sari on one of my trips to India.
Okay, I'm done rambling and boring y'all. Thanks for reading =)
