A Sari Affair.

As I mentioned before, Judy bought a sari at the gift shop of the Sultan's Palace. I had already left so that I could put my shoes on. Judy came to find me and said (and I quote) 'I never buy things at tourist gift shops' but there was a beautiful sari with a black border and a lovely cream, orange etc pattern of flowers. Suresh took one look at it and declared it wasn't pure silk so it was no good. Unfortunately, he then left us to our own devices. Judy really liked the pattern so I said, if you like it buy it. My friend Val had long ago taught me to buy what you like for the price you think is reasonable. The clerk assured Judy that it was silk, she would never lie because she worked for a 'government store' and they had to tell the truth. She then knocked the price down to $2100 rupees so Judy bought it.

Judy was quite excited to have a Sari but Suresh told her if she wanted to wear it she would have to get a sari blouse, the little half shirt, and a sari petticoat, apparently a cotton skirt is worn under the sari - who knew? After we got back from all of Mysore touristy business Suresh said we would go the shops to get Judy all sorted. But first, Judy wanted to find out for sure if the sari was pure silk or not. she had read somewhere that if you light silk on fire it will turn to ash but if there is any other synthetic fabric mixed in there will be a plastic lump left when the fire burns out. So there the three of us are, out front of the hotel, cutting a piece off the sari and lighting it on fire, in the street. Well, of course, the tell tale plastic lump was there as damning evidence!! Not pure silk.

The cutting of the sari. Just a tiny bit needed to show if it is a blend or pure silk.

Lighting the swatch.

The offending plastic lump which, unfortunately didn't show up in the photo.

Judy got a mini Suresh lecture on trusting salespeople. I, attempting to be the voice of reason, mentioned that it was still beautiful and could still be used. It's not like she had bought a plastic picnic table cover but Suresh seemed to feel that if Judy wanted a sari, Judy should have a proper sari, although he kept this to himself for the time being. Suresh is a bit sly.

Anyway, first we needed the fabric for the blouse. Off we go to the 'fabric and clothing district'. There were hundreds of shops selling all manner of saris, Indian dresses, western clothes and lots of tailor shops. However by this time, it was after 8 pm. First we go to a couple of fabric shops - have I mentioned the fabulous fabrics in this country! - where the array of colours of silk was staggering. But Judy wanted a black blouse to match the black border of her sari. Suresh insisted that Judy have hand woven (I think this was the goal?) silk for her blouse so we went to a few shops before we found one that had the specific type Suresh was looking for.

I have to give a bit of info on shopping with Suresh. He doesn't understand women and shopping. For example, when I again mentioned some downtime, maybe for some shopping, he said 'what do you need, I will get it for you. Do you need sandals, I can get you sandals'. Another time, Judy saw a sign for a book mall and mentioned that maybe we could go there. Suresh said, 'what book do you want, I will get it for you'. You get my point here. Plus, the few times we have been in a shopping area, Suresh leads the way at a quick clip. Stop to look at something and you may be lost in the crowd forever. So shopping so far has been a challenge.

So back to the streets of Mysore. Suresh is walking at a running pace for me and Judy, stopping in the occasional store, and then continuing on until we get to the snazziest place on the street. It has glass counters and very alert looking clerks. Fabric is upstairs. So up we go and are sat to have the fabric brought to us. By this time Judy and I are getting quite giggley. It is hard not to find Suresh amusing when he has a mission. He takes his 'responsibilities' quite seriously.

In the Silk and Sari shop. Pick a colour, any colour.

Hmmm? Which black silk fabric matches the sari better?

Judy brings out her sari and you should have seen the look of derision on the clerk's face. But he was a professional and pulled it together pretty fast. But then he just couldn't stay silent when he saw the price. He and Suresh had a unintelligible conversation which we assumed was about the idiocy of tourists. He then explained that she could wear it once or twice but then it would not be usable as a sari and could be used as wash rags (I think he said wall covering but we knew what he meant). Judy and I were now finding this all quite hilarious. Men having long discussions about her blouse without consulting her was just too, well, Indian. (Suresh has to be reminded occasionally that we get to participate in decision making every once in a while. Our participation is often a mere formality because we usually end up doing what Suresh thinks we should be doing. )

Finally a fabric was chosen, a piece was cut and, foolishly, I assumed we were done here. Not so. We head downstairs where Suresh puts his 'get Judy a real sari' plan into action. The clerks are of course, quite happy to comply. So we get sat again to look at saris. Now, as most of you know, sari fabric is the most beautiful fabric in the world. The colours, the patterns, the texture. It is prit-near impossible not to want to touch them and buy them for that matter. They start arriving to be opened and spread out on the counter, one gorgeous sari after another. We look at the price - LESS than the fake one she bought!! Clerk - 'feel the difference, this is silk, yours is woven coconut husks'. Well, I am paraphrasing here but you get the picture. By now, Judy is liking her sari less and less, and we are laughing more and more. The men keep looking at us like we clearly are too crazy to make our own decisions so more man discussing ensues.

The clerk and Suresh were keen that Judy buy a higher quality sari, hand woven silk. But Judy liked the soft feel of the lower end but still pure silk ones. So we looked at dozens of designs, no two in the store are alike. She already had the black blouse fabric so we started with saris with black in them. But it turns out that the better quality, cheaper prices saris have blouse fabric included. Judy's fake sari was getting worse and worse. We didn't like the ones with black so Judy chose one with peach and sage green pastels. Lovely, of course. I will mention here that I was strong and did not buy one but it was close.

Here's a beautiful one.

Or how about this beautiful one?

And another beautiful one.

Blouse fabric bought, second sari chosen and paid for. Mission accomplished - HA, surely you jest! Nope, after the 90 minutes of sari selection, we were back on the street. Now we were looking for the petticoats, one for each sari. Two shops later, that was done without too much fanfair. Then we were looking for a tailor, again at a break neck pace. Judy kept saying things like - 'um, is there going to be a woman to take my measurements?'. No answer - this never bodes well. First tailor couldn't do it for a week. More charging about (dodging cars in the pitch black in back alleys just added to the fun). Next tailor shop was below street level and had their entire inventory on the floor for some never-clarified reason. The tailor had to be called but he arrived withing 10 minutes. For those 10 minutes, Judy kept worrying about some creepy old man taking her measurements. But when the tailor arrived he was a quite nice looking young man. 'bring on the measuring' says Judy!

Now to create a mental picture for you. We have a shop with stuff everywhere and two employees, the tailor and Suresh all discussing Judy and her bosom. Within minutes, the man from the next shop comes over to throw in his two cents. I was on the stairs above just killing myself laughing. Poor Judy, she was trying not to look at me but she couldn't keep a straight face either. Then when a sixth man arrived from the street to join in the fray, it was too much. Finally, with the full complement of the six required men, Judy and her boobs were measured. By now, I was actually crying with laughter. Laughing that hard can be dangerous when bathrooms are few and far between! I took lots of pictures, which I'm sure was not helping the seriousness of the situation.

The tailor shop, with a full compliment of 'helpers'.

The measuring of the bosom.

Eventually, now almost 10 at night, we were done. Off to dinner - I remember now, we had dinner, spaghetti alfredo (don't get western food in India) - to debrief on the sari business. Suresh couldn't understand why this all seemed so funny to us but every time he mentioned something else, it would set us off again.

Checking out the new silk sari.

A couple of days later, we were passing through Mysore again so we picked up the blouses. But so far, Judy has not had a chance to try either of the saris on - that night we were in the worst hotel EVER and we didn't even want to take out our toothbrushes let alone that lovely silk sari (I will eventually catch up and tell you about this night). Next night we got to our tiny room late. Now Suresh is saying he is going to find an Indian woman at this hotel to come to our room to assist Judy with putting on the sari as it would be highly inappropriate for him to help. I will let you know how that goes. Pictures will be taken.

The final results.

Dress Rehearsal - Practising over clothes. Check out those awesome pleats!

Looking good. Ready for the whole ensemble.

Looks amazing. And it isn't even the real silk one.

This side looks good too!!

Judy was having so much fun, I wanted to give it a try too.

Judy put on the real silk one next but apparently I didn't take a picture on my camera so here is one of her in the sari at the airport.