Well that was unexpected

I bought a sari.

We went to work today (doing a 9-7 shift - it's meant to be 9.30 to 6.30 but ended up a bit extra to get ready and debrief). At about 6.15 my work email started to ignore my existence, so we did a review of the day with the offshore trainers and then got the car at about 7 I think. As we had been allocated our Indian SIM cards (drop me an email if you need the number - I won't post it publicly of course) we now have to provide a passport photo and photocopy of passport / visa. So, the driver was given instructions by the facilities manager that he had to take us to a photo shop. Which he did, on the way home. And so the story begins.

We drove a slightly different route to find this photo shop - along a market road. It's a wide road (probably 2-3 lanes (it's hard to tell in India: officially 2, actually about 5 when you take all the different vehicles into account)) and on either side for probably about a mile it was edged with market stalls. As it was after sunset, they were lit up by strings of 100W light bulbs (usually 1 or 2 per stall) which gave it an oddly festive quality. But each stall was gloriously random and also highly specialised. There would be a plastic bucket stall, with beside it a socks and boxers stall, then a bindi stall and then one selling curtains. Then it evolved (or devolved, not sure) into a fruit and veg market. I know they say not to buy fruit and veg from stalls but this stuff looked beautiful. Perhaps it's the lighting, or the distance, or maybe it really was fresh and lovely up close too. I have no idea how people choose where to buy - there were 100s of metres of stalls all apparently with an identical
range of produce. Maybe people just go with favourites.

Anyway, we eventually got to the proper "shops" area (not just stalls) and went to the Kodak photo shop. No poxy snap-yourself-pose-4-times booth though, there was a real photographer taking photos with an actual camera, and proper lights not flashlights. And for Rs50 (about 55p) I got 8 passport photos that I'm not actually horrendously embarrassed by. He kept saying "smile" though and memories of Passport Office & Visa office edicts saying "do not under any circumstances SMILE for your photo". Then he passed the memory card to an assistant who brought them up on a computer, and you could pick your favourite. Which he could then rotate (if, like me, you happened to be a listing a little) and I think there were even blemish removal tools (didn't dare ask though).

We paid and then were told to come back in 15 mins. 15 mins. In the middle of a shopping centre.
Oh dear.

Right on the other side of the road was a ladies' outfitters, so we went in for a nose around. We have both pondered the possibility of kitting ourselves out with a sari for fun functions, and this seemed as good an opportunity as any. So we browsed for a minute or so before being sucked in to the Sari Sell.

At the back of the shop is a big set of shelves, with each sari packed into a plastic bag. Then there's a small corridor, and then two seating areas. The one beside the corridor is very deep (4-5 feet from front to back) which is where the salesmen sit and spread out the saris for your perusal. Then facing that is a normal padded bench wot the ladies sit on to be sold to. So we did that a bit. My preference is for dark red, and I saw a chiffon one that was the right sort of colour and has hand embroidery in green / red and with little mirrors sewn in (got to have a bit of sparkle and bling).

So I got all tempted and got dressed up in it (over my work clothes). They velcro a bit of elastic round your waist, to fold the fabric into, then with speed and accuracy that I will never master fold the fabric and tuck and drape it until it all looks fabulous. The sari is embroidered in different ways in different parts of the fabric, so that it fulfils its function without excessive weight. All very clever.

Alas I have no photos to document any of this because, it being a work day, we had left our cameras at home as they are banned in the office.

Anyway, negotiations ensued (although it was a fixed price shop so that was a relief). I had heard from other SMEs in Pune that they had arranged to get their saris sewn in shape so all they had to do was fasten a few hooks to eyes. Also one needs to obtain a petticoat, and the choli (cut off t-shirt - hmm, not sure about the cut off idea with my tummy) needs to be made from the bit at the end of the sari they give you (it has embroidered shoulders but needs to be cut out and stitched).
For Rs1000 they said that they could get a local tailor to do this, so after paying for the sari itself Hanna and I followed after a shop assistant who would take us there. Not "just over the road" as he had promised, but quite a long way down a rather busy road, with him happily walking in the road, not on the nice pavement as we would normally expect to do. We tried one place - no luck (lots of shrugs and negative looks, all negotiations in Hindi) and then walked for ages down the road to another place - alas no luck there either so I asked for my money back on the tailoring and decided to ask at the office for a recommendation, or just get it done at home with help from mother or a local Indian fabric shop. I've also (since) read that the trend these days is to get nice stretchy jersey fabric ones instead rather than use the same fabric. Might be easier, and more forgiving (chiffon is very fragile). So I got my money and he then left us there to make our own way back to the car.

We decided not to walk in the road, but to go down the pavement instead. This was a proper local shopping area, with lots of intriguing side streets and then proper shops down the main road. Not proper as in Next / Debenhams / Clarks of course, but more "super-evolved stalls" with roofs and walls. And on the other side of the pavement were the earlier evolutionary step, of proper stalls. There were lots of food vendors too, dotted around with cooking equipment. Only two people actually tried to follow us to sell things though - one chap with Accessorize-type beaded handbags (no thanks) and one man who decided to go for broke and offer us some cut-price.... Cling Film!!! Perhaps we looked as if we needed some.

I was moderately alert about this shopping trip - hand on handbag, purposeful air about my step, eyes front. It would have been really interesting to slow down and browse, maybe even buy things, but I had rather a lot of money in my bag as we have to pay for our forthcoming tour tomorrow, so didn't feel inclined to take my purse out and show how thick it was (actually a bit thinner since the sari shop...). Maybe another time.

We made it back to the car intact - the driver had picked up the photos and was waiting looking mildly concerned about our absence. Hadn't sent for any rescue helicopters yet though.

So, all I have to do now is work out how to wear the damn sari, get a choli to match it and then think of an occasion that merits it! Perhaps a big company bash sometime...