Why the Sari

Playing house as little girls often do, I have the fondest childhood memories of sneaking into my mother’s freshly washed and ironed pile of saris, all the while trying to fathom how I would drape six yards of fabric around my little frame, in an effort to mirror what I saw as being quintessential woman. Cousin sisters would often come to my rescue by haphazardly tucking and pinning where possible to then somewhat give me the semblance of drape. We would then try to replicate the femininity with which our mothers, aunts and grandmothers effortlessly carried

By |2016-11-08T04:59:54+00:00November 5th, 2016|Categories: Blog, Musings|Tags: , , |0 Comments