O (wo)man!

Last year in Oman, I wandered through Muttrah Souq with X. He had a specific objective: to buy an Omani man’s traditional robe and embroidered cap. In our search for authentic clothing, we were forced deeper and deeper into the maze, leaving the glamorous shops and most of the tourists far behind.

At last we found a merchant selling goods that pleased X, after he convinced them that he wanted a dishdasha that any Omani man would wear. He settled on basic pale blue with pinstripes, but no-one could lay their hands on a kummah that fit his head, until a passer-by (getting into the spirit of the thing) declared his uncle, or possibly brother, had just the thing. He sped off and before long returned with a length of folded fabric. X was directed to sit on a camping stool whilst a cluster of Omanis surrounded him and correctly wrapped the muzzhar, or turban, around X’s head.

Eventually they all glanced at me, wondering which costume I would like to choose. It hadn’t yet occurred to me to purchase one but suddenly it seemed imperative.

Omani women’s clothing is more colourful than their Gulf neighbours’, but I didn’t want anything gaudy. Several garments were displayed to me before I found one that satisfied me.

So here I am in my Muscat-style thawb, (the women’s version of a dishdasha) suitably embellished with gold threads and pink tilli (locally made braid). Of course I should be wearing my pretty green pashmina to cover my head – not around my neck as directed – and they neglected to sell me the necessary pair of pantaloons. That was probably just as well, as between us, X and I only just managed to scrape together enough Omani rials and UAE dirhams to pay for my expensive pashmina and robe.

My silver dangly earrings are from the same souq, but my gorgeous Arabian slippers are from Dubai.

Where to next?