l met an old friend this weekend and we got together alone for the first time since we had kids. That obviously meant a chance to discuss all the gory details about everything and everyone in our lives. After a very relaxing pizza and gossip session we went shopping. Since this was my second shopping expedition in two weeks, The Hero is now completely convinced that I’m addicted to shopping. Perhaps l am. Perhaps I’m not. But since I keep telling him, “You don’t understand!” I thought I’d make an effort to explain myself.
Why do l shop? When l first started earning l used to shop because I could. l had a completely disposable income and l shopped just because. This continued until l sat down one day and realized that l had way too much stuff. l scaled back after that and l was in replacements only mode for a long time.
Then I got married and moved to the US and suddenly, half my wardrobe was just gone. There was no scope of wearing salwar kameez or sarees in the Midwest and although I wore my kurtis faithfully (and was judged for it), by the time internship season rolled around I had nothing and I headed to the mall for a week’s worth of formals. However, I stayed in poor grad student mode for most part and shopped accordingly. Sweaters in the winter, two pairs of shorts in the summer and $50 for white puma shoes. Yes, I know. I was *that* desi.
Then we moved back. And yep, I cried about giving my clothes away yet again. And I needed to shop yet again because I took a job with the largest Indian IT services provider and there wasn’t much scope to wear anything beyond salwar kameez. My mother in law “did the needful” and I learned to start my mails with “Dear XYZ”.
Six months later, I was pregnant.
I wore everything I had that would fit up until the point it was worn out and had one pair of those awful jeggings thingies which I wore on Fridays. Everything that could die a valiant death died. That which did was no longer sufficient to accommodate my more (ahem!) womanly dimensions.
I lived in three or four nursing tops till I went back to work and once I did I bought five or six sets of salwar kameez and bought one pair of Levi’s after I realized what I was doing to myself by waiting for the old jeans to fit (they finally do, btw. So Yay!). I tried buying some formal shirts but honestly, I had neither the time nor the money to buy anything more than a few more horrible clothes. Honestly, Western wear in India is not designed for women still using their nursing bras. This was the time I picked up the habit of wearing saris – however maami – to work. Gradually, over the last year I have managed to replenish my salwar kameez. And though I already had enough saris to clothe a small wedding party, I’ve added saris that are are more me. I haven’t gone as far as cow prints or hand prints yet but at least I’ve added jutes, linens and abstract print chiffons.
But what about my jeans? I tried holding out on these for more than a year because I was so convinced that I would fit into my old tops again. However, even after losing a part of the baby weight and still not getting anywhere close to the point where these things will fit I will have to rethink whether I’m holding out on buying new clothes to motivate myself to lose weight or punish myself for not having done so already.
You know what? I think it’s the latter. I need something for myself even if it’s something as simple as wearing jeans again. We don’t have much of a social life anymore because life only revolves around the child. I don’t have any time for hobbies anymore, because of an unforgiving commute and tiny toddler. I don’t have the bandwidth to be very regular with any sort of skin or hair care routine. I haven’t had the time for yoga in two months. Sleep is a luxury with Chotu’s changing sleep patterns.
Can I not have twenty minutes to myself in the morning for a few stretches, an uninterrupted bath, and a little time to peek into my closet and pick out clothes that flatter and fit that I enjoy wearing? Can I not just wear clothes that I like instead of always dressing in clothes that are practical? Is it wrong to look at a photo and realize that the woman with the greasy hair and tight braid is not me? Where did I go? Why should motherhood consume all that was ever fun and flirty and replace it with this woman who doesn’t even have a t-shirt she can wear when she goes out with her son? Why can this woman not buy some damn shirts that work instead of always going, “Buttons not toddler safe, stretchy neck not toddler safe, length not toddler safe” and always wearing the same white salwar bottom paired with a kurta that has seen better days?
Isn’t life too short to spend half of it searching for a shirt that fits and a part of the other half feeling upset when you realize that you don’t own one? After six massive massive resets in six years – some good, some not so much* – isn’t it time to look forward instead of looking back? Isn’t life too short to agonize over problems that are easy and affordable to fix? Isn’t life too short to just keep on and on thinking about things and reach no real conclusions?
When lives and marriages get reset after a baby arrives, why can’t closets? When you think about it, it’s not really that complex. I had a baby, I gained weight. I had a ton of stuff but nothing fits anymore. I need to give away the old things and buy new things and wait for the exercise plan to pay off. It’s not exactly rocket science. Why do some of us women get so touchy about it?
But the thing is, you know, it’s not just about clothes. Clothes carry memories. Memories of birthdays, graduations, dates, conversations. Clothes are symbolic of things, especially in our society where everything is symbolic of everything. Clothes are a way we express ourselves – starched or relaxed, bright or serious, quirky or conventional, serious executive or hippie prof – and so clothes are a way for people to judge us. Ultimately, clothes serve our primal need for grooming and preening and impressing our mate. Clothes are about us. No wonder we get touchy!
*The six resets: 1. quit well loved job after getting married, 2. gave up full-time offer from internship, 3. gave up PhD offer from dream university, 4. quit crappy PhD and moved back to India, 5. had a baby, 6. found a new job
