On my way back from office today, I saw a man crossing the road. He was standing on the divider and the thing that caught my attention was his blazer. It was velvet! I will admit that this is not the first time I am seeing a velvet blazer but this was surely the first time it ended up triggering a lot of memories.
You see, I owned a velvet dress once. Once as in, some 20 years back. It was a dark shade, not black, not brown but something which is a mix of both these colours. There probably exists a unique name for that colour but I have no clue what it is. It was gifted by my cousin I think. Probably the eldest one, who was our source of exotic clothes and unheard-of books (Harry Potter being a prime example!).
It was a straight cut plain dress made of brown/black (?) velvet. That's it. End of story. No sequins. No embroidery. No embellishments. Nothing. When I wore it for the first time, I felt like I was wearing the shed skin of a snake. And, I was so skinny that I probably resembled the velvet sheathed rods placed near red carpet areas.
You see, I owned a velvet dress once. Once as in, some 20 years back. It was a dark shade, not black, not brown but something which is a mix of both these colours. There probably exists a unique name for that colour but I have no clue what it is. It was gifted by my cousin I think. Probably the eldest one, who was our source of exotic clothes and unheard-of books (Harry Potter being a prime example!).
It was a straight cut plain dress made of brown/black (?) velvet. That's it. End of story. No sequins. No embroidery. No embellishments. Nothing. When I wore it for the first time, I felt like I was wearing the shed skin of a snake. And, I was so skinny that I probably resembled the velvet sheathed rods placed near red carpet areas.
At that age, my ideas of dressing up was drastically different from my sisters'. In the opinion of 6-year-old me, they had zero dressing sense and that translated into the horrible dresses I was forced to wear to school on the rare occasions when "colour dress" was allowed. The 26 year old me realizes that thanks to their dressing sense, I was not an object of ridicule in school. Needless to say, I hated that velvet dress as it didn't match my 'fashion sense'.
So, I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard my sister pronouncing that the velvet dress did not suit me. But such a rare piece of clothing should not be wasted. And they decided to cut it up and make it into two different pieces of clothing. The top portion would be stitched into a proper frilly frock with lace and net while the bottom portion would regain life as a standalone velvet skirt. I must have been a bit apprehensive of the end result then, but when it was actually finished and ready to try on, My oh My! It surpassed my wildest dreams. From the ugly sheath it transformed into the most coveted velvet (the exotic fabric not yet trending in Kerala!) dress in our Kundukad city. I happily wore it to Church and Sunday Catechism Classes and Weddings and Betrothals and what not. From a feared object of ridicule it suddenly became an object of fascination and envy among my friends. (Velvet!) They all wanted one too but sadly no shop in Thrissur town stocked up on velvet frocks.
The ultimate moment of satisfaction came when my relative-friend-classmate asked her dad for a velvet dress and he had to source it from somewhere far away but still did not match up to the high standards that my velvet frock had set. Yes. Inside my small head I let out a cry of triumph. I have attained it. I have become the fashion icon of Kundukad city.
Looking back, I feel silly. But I feel a lot of other emotions too. Proud of my sisters for having such creative instincts and practical sense. Thankful that I wasn't let to choose my own clothes. Gratitude and thanks to my cousin brother for gifting me things that were so unique and rare at that time.
And most of all, the nostalgia of feeling happiness at such silly little things. Having little means you can be happy with the littlest more you can get. Having a lot means you need a lot more to be happy. May be I was better off with having only a little. Thank you dear velvet blazer-ed stranger for choosing that moment to cross the road. Thank you for all the memories.
So, I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard my sister pronouncing that the velvet dress did not suit me. But such a rare piece of clothing should not be wasted. And they decided to cut it up and make it into two different pieces of clothing. The top portion would be stitched into a proper frilly frock with lace and net while the bottom portion would regain life as a standalone velvet skirt. I must have been a bit apprehensive of the end result then, but when it was actually finished and ready to try on, My oh My! It surpassed my wildest dreams. From the ugly sheath it transformed into the most coveted velvet (the exotic fabric not yet trending in Kerala!) dress in our Kundukad city. I happily wore it to Church and Sunday Catechism Classes and Weddings and Betrothals and what not. From a feared object of ridicule it suddenly became an object of fascination and envy among my friends. (Velvet!) They all wanted one too but sadly no shop in Thrissur town stocked up on velvet frocks.
The ultimate moment of satisfaction came when my relative-friend-classmate asked her dad for a velvet dress and he had to source it from somewhere far away but still did not match up to the high standards that my velvet frock had set. Yes. Inside my small head I let out a cry of triumph. I have attained it. I have become the fashion icon of Kundukad city.
Looking back, I feel silly. But I feel a lot of other emotions too. Proud of my sisters for having such creative instincts and practical sense. Thankful that I wasn't let to choose my own clothes. Gratitude and thanks to my cousin brother for gifting me things that were so unique and rare at that time.
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