Fashion tales: In quest of a seamstress.

During my teenage years fashion meant buying clothes at Fashion street cos that was what I could afford within my pocket money. Or otherwise it meant trying to make the local darzi (tailor) understand the intricacies of western clothes from the Japanese fashion magazines that he would have. Finally I would land up with an iffy fusion of the western and the occidental.
Let me go back a bit….. as a kid my mom would take me to a Parsi lady who would make my dresses. Her patterns were so good and the clothes would be so comfy that I would hate to discard them. She’s the only seamstress I have seen to date who would be proud of her pattern inside and out. The inside of the dress would be as neatly done as the outside. Having done a bit of textiles and sewing during college years I am in a position to say that it’s not always that one finds such a seamstress. Many a times the dresses look gorgeous from the out but turn them inside out and the inside seams are a mess. That’s the reason why I always admired Hilla ben.
The 80’s and the 90’s were more the prêt-a-porter years for me. I wasn’t too happy with the ready-mades but I had still not found the ultimate seamstress. During those days there would be a variety of ready-made dresses but not much of a variety in the fabrics. So one didn’t really have a choice. Also fashion designers had not mushroomed at every “nukkad” (corner). My tailor at the time was someone who did tailoring as part time business and thought that drinking was his full time one. So not only did I have to go to his shop when he wasn’t really too high, then get him to understand the pattern and then pray for the best. If he kept himself sober during the time that my dress was being cut, it would come out well otherwise…. I have found that the embroidered parrots on my dress that I thought I would see on the front hem were viewing the world from behind me. After this I seriously started to look out for another tailor. The next one had triangles on his brain. You give him any material. The final kameez would have a triangular tent look to it. In the suburbs we really didn’t have much choice where tailors were concerned. Also I kept thinking that I was too hard to please. Having learnt sewing I was very particular and finicky.
Finally I thought I should up the stakes and look out for a designer. Even if I did pay through my nose I would be able to enjoy my clothes. I found this girl. She charged more than double the going rate. I was new to this fashion thing and thought she was a bit OTT. So I would tell her to tone down a bit when she would pattern my dress. She would take it as a personal affront that I was clipping her designer ideas. Once we got used to each other, I could comfortably let her design for me. Now that we have come to an agreement about what I feel suits me I let her have a free hand.
I realized the difference that clothes make when a friend of mine asked me “hey what diet do you follow… you have started looking trim?” (remember the triangle tailor) I said no diet…. Changed my designer. She thought I was being funny and said hey whatever it takes to keep us looking young huh! It was only then that I actually thought about the phrase : “clothes maketh the man” and the difference they make to a person’s personality and feel good factor.