From India With Love
Brightly coloured like the plumage of exotic birds; bejewelled, bemirrored and twinkling in the sun; silken pleats and draperies fluttering in a wayward breeze: the saree is arguably the epitome of Indian fashion – if not culture. I am privileged to watch my friend Anamika robe herself in one, and bedeck herself in gold jewellery.
A saree (not ‘sari’ as is commonly spelled in the West) is an heirloom. Traditionally they are made from silk georgette, satin, lace and cotton-silk blends. The most expensive sarees that are heavy with embroidery and favoured by Bollywood stars can cost up to $5000; a high quality version for a mere earthbound mortal will set her back at least $500 or more (how long is a piece of silk?).
Made from bright coloured pure silk with real gold or silver worked into them, the most embellished is a kanjeevaram: like a Chanel bag it is handed down from mother to daughter and treasured. Made in South India, and up to 9m in length, it is 4–5m longer than the usual saree; it is its sheer weight that usually excludes it from all but the most special occasions.
…like a Chanel bag it [a saree] is handed down from mother to daughter and treasured.
The donning of a saree is not confined to class: any young woman may wear one, beginning around 18 years; traditionally it is a coming-of-age dress. The saree can drape on either shoulder, and a well-fitting bodice and petticoat are worn underneath (and one would never parade in front of men clothed only in these). It is not easy to wrap however. Anamika recalls the first time she wore a saree to a school function when she was 14 years old. It had come undone, and finding it impossible on her own, she gathered up the pleats and ran to her teacher for help!
It is the pleating of the fabric that is the most difficult, Anamika says: the pleats must be the same size; the hem look even, and hang straight. “It’s still difficult,” Anamika chuckles. “Sarees started as a simple drape, and who knows how they got so complicated!”
Pleating the saree.
When marrying, a young Indian bride would require a bare minimum of 21 sarees in her trousseau, or to be really sumptuous, 101; a few of these could be heirlooms. Whatever the final number, it must end in the auspicious number one. Anamika’s own wedding reception saree was made from stiff silk, and she required the assistance of two people to put it on. “It looks like a draped blanket,” her mother said to her when she tried to wrap it by herself, Anamika remembers.
Anamika only brought three with her to Australia, leaving the others in India with her parents; she, however, never owned more than 20. Nowadays, Anamika prefers a modern twist on a saree, made from lighter fabrics with minimal embroidery. This makes them easier to carry (wear) she says. The few she has kept in her favourite silk georgette drape nicely and are slimming.
On her visits home, Anamika likes to take advantage of the multitude of tailors to design her own sarees with a simple, Western twist, such as the spaghetti straps on this pale rose pink salwaar-kameez. Her sister designed the blue paisley motif on the black. These sets are hand-embroidered and can take 2–3 weeks to complete – or up to six weeks depending on the embroidery.
Today Indian designers like Satya Paul are taking the traditional saree and redesigning it for modern women who, like Anamika, flit from East to West. So new traditions are born.
Many thanks to Anamika for consenting to model and be interviewed for SNAP.