I would now like to discuss the task of clothes shopping for a 5'11, average built, full-figured female individual as myself. I am having flashbacks to specific traumatic incidents in Calcutta (as history is repeating itself here in Kannur). I am a very large human compared to the common population (men and women) of India. Therefore, the Large size here is more like a small American medium. Many vendors like to tell me "don't worry I have big size for you!" I've accepted this but I got to a point in shopping in Calcutta where I would reply to the Kelly Tucker** size garment displayed before me, "thats definitely not big size" and they would say "iz ok it stretch for you!" In addition to the general size difference, I have concluded that Indian women have ridiculously thin arms and not very broad shoulders. I have gotten stuck in a number of shirts this way in order to come to this conclusion…therefore it is valid. Flashback: I'm at South City Mall (which is very nice and very westernized) in a giant store which could constitute as the equivalent to a Macy's. I am in line for the dressing room to try on a dress. There are about 15 women (ages 15-40 we'll say) in line for the dressing room, all of whom keep staring at me shamelessly. I look in the large communal mirror to sneak peeks at the others (because I don't like staring!!) and see that I am a good 7 inches to a foot taller than everyone around me. I also notice that everyone in this line is wearing some western trendy jeans and shirt combo…….except me. Oh no, I definitely decided that morning that I was going to wear my Indian gear; thus, clothing myself in the long kurti shirt, with the slouchy cotton churidar pants. So, theres about 15 western-dressed Indian women around the obscenely tall, blonde, pale American dressed like an Indian. This is my story setting. I proceed to the dressing room with my one garment, adorable Dress size L, (there was hope that this would fit) and slip it on. Well looks like a perfect fi-- holy crap my arm circulation! ahhhhhh, **struggle, struggle**..:::twist::..:::swish:::…:::pffffffzzt:::… 'omg am I going to rip this?!'…. everything but the arm holes/shoulders fit and so I have found myself panicked and flailing about within the dressing room, freaking out that I will A. most certainly rip the dress or B. lose my upper limbs to the unfortunate asphyxiation of my arms. Ya know how they tell you when a boa constrictor is strangling you that thrashing around will only make it squeeze even tighter? What a handy little principle I elected NOT to try during this dilemma. With each twitching shimmy, the tight mini cap sleeves finagle up to the tops of my shoulders and and I start assessing the fact that I very well may need help to get this dress off me. Ugh, and I know the all the other tiny-armed-in-western-gear-women are all wondering what the heck happened to that random Indian poser white girl with ONE item of clothing 15 minutes ago. I know you want the story to get better, but I somehow managed to wriggle free from the death grip of those dang cap sleeves--dress unharmed--- and emerge from the room sweating, beat red face, and giant red bands around my upper arms and shoulders (did I mention that my kurti was sleeveless?), oh, and stripped of all dignity. I find Phil Collins in the store and they are like "dude where were you?!"…."oh i got stuck in a dress, no big."
I frequently experience a slightly less intense version of this scenario. Oy veh. Maybe I should stop doing so many handstands……?……..nah. :-)
**good friend, very small
No comments:
Post a Comment