This cover story is me at my selfish best. Why am I doing a story on young women who aren’t afraid of wearing saris? Because I’ve shamefully reached age 30 without owning a single sari.
Red hot! A blood red sari is the desi equivalent of the Little Black Dress.
Don’t blame my Bombay Catholic upbringing – it didn’t stop my mum from rocking the six-yard. Don’t
fault my neighbourhood either – I grew up in Hindmata, Parel, the motherlode of cheap chiffon and cut-price cut-piece.
Now, however, I have no excuse to not add one to my closet. Not after four women have shown me I have nothing to fear. Hindmata shops, here I come!
From HT Brunch, November 18
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