I had never before worn a sari (also spelled saree but never sorry). But I’d seen one put on once, which was enough to know they usually come in three parts: a petticoat (a simple skirt that goes underneath), a blouse (a tight top that sits above the midriff), and the long scarf that wraps around like a skirt then up over a shoulder. With at least one and possibly more weddings coming up, and the fact I had recently learned about a lehenga style sari which is supposedly easier to put on, I impulsively decided to go for it.

I went to Shipra Mall by myself on Tuesday after work, wandered into the sari shop (next to the salwar kameez shop where my co-worker’s wife helped me pick out an outfit the first week I was here) and asked if they had this mysterious “lehenga” I had heard about.

And, more importantly, would they be able to stitch the blouse part to my size before Friday.

Turned out, the only hard part was trying to do this for under $200 (dude!). The two guys and one woman helping me (all with minimal, but enough English) put an elastic belt around my waist, found a lehenga sari, and did a quick visual of what it might look like for me, tucking the skirt part into the belt and wrapping the attached wide scarf around in the two different styles. At this point, I thought I would feel really awkward, but I did not at all for some reason. Even though I’m a total noob, it all felt perfectly fine. A pleasing contrast to the intimidation I felt my first week, even together with a local.

I liked the first one I tried on, but it was 10,000 ($200) to start with, before the cost of the custom stitching, which they, whew, said could be done by Thursday evening. I liked it and it became my backup plan. I asked if they had anything cheaper, even though they said that was the cheapest one. They took out one that had polka dots (ugh) and I tried it on anyway. I am just not a dot fan, even if it would save me two grand rupees. I was just going to go with the first one, when I decided to, on impulse, ask for the “next cheapest.” They had one on the counter already, a red and blue one and we put that on. I liked this one best and figured I’d just deal with the cost. Then he turned over the price tag and it was only $120, or 6,000. What?! I’ll take it! (Not that $120 is nothing mind you, but… a much better deal.)

The main guy started taking my measurements for the blouse and petticoat part, but the second guy was not taking very good notes. So he did all the measurements again, it eventually taking all three of them to get it written down properly. It was very cute.

So, only slightly anxious on Thursday (because if something went wrong with the stitching, I’d be out of luck) I returned. They had everything all ready to go. I went into the dressing room to try on the blouse.

But then I remembered that I have no idea how to wear a sari blouse.

Luckily, the lady employee was there and she stepped in at my request to help me determine which side was front (so it does hook in the front unlike, say, a bra) and where to actually hook the half-dozen hooks. It was really tight. I mean, it is supposed to be tight. But, wow. I can’t believe those hooks are not flying off.

Friday, after work, one of the other girls going offered to let me get ready at her place. I had originally just planned to put on the sari in the restroom at work. After all, I had just watched a YouTube video on how to do this. No problem, right? But someone’s place, especially someone who could check that I don’t screw it up, was preferable.

She took the sari out of the bag. Then she stated, “I have no idea how to tie this. You need to go to the parlor.”

???

I thought this was the “easy” one! But neither of my twentysomething female co-workers knew what to do with the thing. I was pretty sure I knew what to do, but then one of them said, “Well, if you don’t tuck it tight enough, it can fall loose when you are walking. All sorts of things can happen. Better to have it tied at the parlor.”

So I agreed to go to a professional. Luckily, there were two (local, non-commercialized) beauty parlors less than a block away. One charged $3 for the 10-minute job. But my co-worker seemed astonished at that price, so she found another woman for $2. The woman, with faltering but existent English, tied my sari on for me. This involved carefully tucking in the scarf part into my petticoat all the way around and then making an accordion out of the scarf part and pulling it around my back and over my shoulder She did it a lot like the YouTube video. But one thing she did that I’m pretty sure I would not have been able to do well on my own, is that she pinned up the scarf at my shoulder in a way that kept the shape, but did not show the pin. Had she not, I bet that would have fallen / unraveled all over the place. (In fact, I just left the pin in there that night when I finally took it off just in case I don’t have a parlor next time.)

So, here it is!

(I’m even wearing the bangles and a bindi from my July 23 entry. It was just a coincidence that they matched perfectly!)

I admit, one thing I don’t like is that the scarf was so long that it needed to go back up or it would have dragged on the ground. So she had to pin it up on my other shoulder. I don’t like the look of this, but this way was still better than the first style she showed me, which is also apparently popular, though doesn’t involve crossing it over one shoulder which, to me, is essential to a true sari look.

(Front and back)

So, we got there early (I think we were only about forty minutes after the invitation time) and mostly hung around, snacked on the decidedly NON-veg snacks coming around, and chatted. Yeah, this thing is impossible to walk in. They weren’t kidding. The scarf is wrapped so low makes it difficult to take a long stride. But even half my short strides wanted to catch the bottom. I started slide-walking, but that only seemed to sort of help since I still sometimes tugged the edge. And people dance in these things??

Venue: The Grand Plaza: Sapphire

The venue seemed pretty standard. A dance floor and several tables. The usual waiters coming up to you with drinks and snacks so often that you are full by the time dinner starts. (Better than no snacks at all because the buffets usually start at 9 or 10pm.) I was actually one of the better-dressed folk there this time… especially compared to the guys.

In unrelated news, ATMs are very funny about small change.

The Elusive 100-Rupee Note

I was running low and small bills (i.e. 10s, 50s, and 100s) and I need them to pay for autos. Autorickshaw drivers will sometimes make change. Or sometimes they will claim they don’t have it. (If you give them a 500, though, they might not!) Oddly, 50-rupee notes, which are about one dollar, are harder to come by than either 10s or 100s, and that is how much it costs to get to the metro station from here. About a month ago, the strangest thing happened. My usual ATM that was kindly giving me my last five hundred all in 100-rupee notes suddenly gave me all 5,000 in 100-rupee notes. I’ll see that as a one-time magic gift. Perhaps that machine was out of 500s and 1000s? Or perhaps it was a glitch that caused several banks to completely run out of 100-rupee notes…

The Really Elusive 50-Rupee Note

…because today, three ATMs (from three different banks) not only gave me no 100s with my regular withdrawal, but, when I asked for 400 to force the issue, *all three* displayed a similar unhelpful error message, “Please enter an amount in multiples of 100.”

Luckily, the fourth ATM allowed it and I got four 100-rupee notes. Now I have to find somewhere to break them.