THE SARI: FROM DRAUPADI TO DIXIT
by Kumkum Ramchandani


Bollywood defines sari fashion. When Madhuri Dixit sang “Choli Ke Peechay Kya Hai?” thousands of women scampered to their tailors to get backless cholis stitched al la Dixit. Hema Malini personified the modern amma with her luxurious South Indian silks while the current divas like Ash, Sush and Kareena have perfected the “east meets west” versatility of the garment.

But as the new kid on the block, designer Sveta Kohli of Sveta Creations, points out, “The real style was projected by Indian women of ancient times, like Draupadi - we are just following in their footsteps!”

Though a fervent believer in the “pure” form of the sari, Sveta is nevertheless able to deliver, within the parameters of functionality and harmony, what her burgeoning clientele is demanding. “Frankly, I find the bra top horrendous. It totally contradicts the bottom half of the sari. However, a really deep front cleavage, or backless and sleeveless choli is fine. I also design transparent cholis but always with a lining. This way the sari is a clear way to sexual enticement.”

Saris (derived from the Sanskrit word ‘sati’ meaning ‘strip of cloth’) are as old as the hills but the exact time of origin is obscure due to lack of historical data. A sari-like drape was depicted in 100 B.C. in a North Indian terracotta sculpture of a woman during the Shunga period (c.200 B.C.-50 B.C.). The sari was tightly wound in the Kachchha style, which, according to present day definition, is a drape of up to 10 metres, worn without a petticoat, where the sari is pulled back between the legs and tucked into the waistband.

Most of us wear saris in the Nivi style, with the pleats in front and the pallav thrown over the left shoulder. Ironically, it was Bollywood which brought this style of sari into the mainstream of Indian society.

Uptil 1500 A.D., Hindus draped themselves in untailored clothes believing that cloth pierced by needles was impure. Not surprising as most needles then were made of bone. The petticoat, as we know it, came into existence with the Muslim invasion of India, as a derivative of the ghagra, while the tailored choli dates back to British times. In the 1920s and 1930’s, upper class Indian women adopted the fitted blouse and slimline petticoat to show off their transparent chiffon saris which were the current rage at the time.

So where does the sari stand today? In India, where sari production accounts for 25.5 per cent of total textile production, it is still a popular mode of dress. However, in places like Canada, the garment is only worn during festivals or special occasions by most people of ethnic Indian origin. It is simply not considered a convenient form of dressing. Desi high society jet setters brandish it in a westernized version of their exotic identities while the working class wears it because the habit is too culturally entrenched to discard.

Anu Singh, second runner-up in the 2002 Miss Canada-India pageant, says, “The sari is hip and very elegant – I don’t know of any other garment that’s both! But I wouldn’t wear it on a day to day basis as I am a student with a part time job and always on the go.”

For the Miss Canada-India pageant, Anu wore a hunter green chantilly lace sari which was presented to her by her aunt.

Interestingly, old habits die hard. Payal Vir, a forty something Canadian mother of two daughters, Priyangini, 18, and Garima, 15, was given twenty one saris, mostly Kanjeevarams and Banarsis, by her mother when she got married in India. Of these, she has never worn at least seven and only selectively worn the others. The seven unworn ones are still lying with her mother in India who regularly refolds them to preserve their longevity. However, when her own daughters get married, Payal intends to buy them new saris to keep the tradition going even though the girls only wear them for special occasions.

For Payal, who prefers the salwar kameez, the sari is nonetheless a sacrosanct Indian traditional symbol. Every Diwali, the pooja takht in her home is draped in the saris of two grandmothers, hers and her husband’s. “It is like receiving a blessing from the elders of the family,” she explains. “When my daughters leave home they will each get one of the two saris so that they can carry on the tradition.”

As a liberated twenty first century mom, Payal agrees that the sari is the sexiest of all dresses and she would have no qualms about her daughters wearing sleeveless backless cholis to accentuate their desirability. However, she draws the line at too much cleavage!

Though the ‘pure’ form of the sari has almost died out, the evolution of the ‘east meets west’ version has been consolidated by the current global interest in Indian culture promoted by films like Hollywood Bollywood and Guru. Fashion pundits like Pierre Cardin and Ritu Beri have brought haute couture versions to the catwalk while here in Canada, the current set of hip young designers are trying to ‘re-educate’ the fashion-conscious.

The noted psychologist, Carl Jung, had this to say: “It would be a loss to the whole world if the Indian woman should cease to wear her native costume. India is practically the only civilized country where one can see on living models how women can and should dress.”

MEANINGS OF MOTIFS

Paisley: fertility
Elephant: water; royalty
Rudraksha: symbol of Lord Shiva
Parrot: courtship; passion
Fish: abundance of food; wealth; generative power
Conch: symbol of worship

COLOURS EXPLAINED

White: purity; mourning
Red: sign of valour; auspicious symbol; emotional, sexual, fertility-related
Green: associated with merchant class; colour of Islam
Blue: farmers, artisans, weavers, labourers
Yellow: colour of religion and asceticism

AN ANCIENT INDIAN FOLK TALE

The sari was born on the loom of a fanciful weaver. He dreamt of woman. The shimmer of her tears. The drape of her tumbling hair. The colours of her many moods. The softness of her touch. All these he wove together. He couldn’t stop. He wove for many yards. And when it was done, he sat back and smiled and smiled and smiled.