Chic Stories

As someone who doesn’t travel in the local trains every day, I tend to romanticise them, only in the Mumbai winters, because I am able to take a train at a time that suits me, I can buy a first class ticket, and I have the luxury of not taking it when it’s not comfortable to me. It is true that public transport offers a glimpse into the city, dredges up stories kind and unkind, and makes one feel like a part of the populace. Private transport isolates you; and this I say from experience.

What I love most about travelling by train is observing how beautifully women dress. Yesterday, I saw a woman wearing a starched, white anarkali sleeveless kurta, white cotton pants, and golden kolhapuri chappals. The constellation tattoo on her upper arm juxtaposed against her white kurta, and she had her entire head and face wrapped in a red dupatta, of what it seemed like the softest cotton. Only her eyes, kajal-lined and almond shaped, peeked out of her face. She was carrying a dabba in one hand and a handbag in another. I admired her courage to wear that outfit in a local train and rock it, too. She was gorgeous.

After I moved into a software development team, I realised that some stereotypes are true. People in tech tend to care very little about how they dress, and almost in a punitive albeit superiority complex kind of way. You know the kind of suffering people will undergo if they believe it makes them superior to others? That. They will throw a t-shirt on their backs as if they don’t have the money or the time to put on clothes. Their dressing is tired in a way that their souls are; unimaginative in a way they are conditioned to be. If you look at people who are “successful in tech” they will wear the same plain, tired t-shirt without ever thinking a world outside exists where other, interesting people tend to dress better even to the bazaar. Imagine these tech people making important decisions, when they can’t decide, first thing in the morning, what to wear on the body their mother gave them, which they abuse sitting on ergonomic chairs, building software that consumes so much electricity and water that regular people have to sacrifice both, and somehow thinking they walk on water? Laughable.

I had fallen into this t-shirt trap (almost). I don’t wear a lot of t-shirts except at home. But I had stopped caring about what I slapped on my back until I saw it reflected back at me in my surroundings. A new friend at work dresses very well, every single time, and she was the inspiration for me to stop behaving like a sloppy Joe. Another frolleague and I were following the same stylist influencer on Instagram, and exchanged notes on what she would say. My outfits are not as lovely as I would have liked them to be, but I am not a techie when I dress, and I am relieved about that.

I love observing how women dress, in public transport, on vertical screens, in my old department where the women wear varied lipsticks without as much as a second thought. These women inspire me. Men, too, if they dress well. I’m currently following a woman on Instagram who lives in the Netherlands and styles clothes for hijabi women. She has a bold sense of style, layered, embellished, and using all and any clothing without discrimination, but putting them together expertly, such that it makes the whole ensemble chic and classy every single time. I love that. I love people who make the effort. They’re so sexy.