Tracing your life story through
fashion can be both fun and traumatic…
You know you are getting on when a
‘period film’ is set in a period you remember all too clearly. Well, at least
that’s how I felt when I watched The Wolf of Wall Street, set in the late 80s
to mid 90s. Yes, I know. I am a bit late to this, but all those reviews about
the debauchery and drug taking kind of put me off the movie, Leonardo DiCaprio
notwithstanding. But when I finally got to it last week, it wasn’t the drugs
and sex – not to mention the midget throwing (don’t ask!) that got me. It was
the clothes.
There they were, the fashions of the late
80s and early 90s on display in all their power-shouldered wonder.
Double-breasted suits worn with loud, wildly-patterned ties. Polo shirts paired
with high-waisted linen trousers. Ruffles and padded shoulders for the women.
This was Giorgio Armani and Chanel, all right. But not as we know it.
Except, of course, that I knew it all too
well. This was the period when I came of age. The decade when I left college,
began my first job, and began earning my own money, which I could spend on the
fashions of the day. But now that it was being paraded before me, two decades
later, all the outfits looked clunky and clumsy, over the top, and sometimes
downright vulgar. Had we really dressed like that in the 80s and early 90s?
What on earth were we thinking?
Well, now that you ask, we thought we
looked pretty darn good. We loved the exaggerated silhouettes, the loud colours.
The brash exuberance of that decade was perfectly articulated in the clothes.
And we embraced those fashions with all the wit and style at our command. Those
padded shoulders were our armour of choice as we set out to conquer the world –
until Armani gave unto us the deconstructed jacket.
It is only in hindsight that the fashions
of the period appear a tad absurd. When I pull out my photographs of that
period, I can’t help but giggle at some of the images. But at the time, they
looked perfectly stylish. And who knows, they may well be back in vogue in
another 20 years, just like the 60s fashions that saw a revival in the early 21st
century.
It is all too easy to trace our lives in
fashion by picking out just one outfit from every decade we have lived through.
And my suspicion is that if we store these in the back of our closets for long
enough, it won’t be long before each outfit comes back into fashion.
In my case, this has already happened.
The leggings and T-shirt/ sweater combination that I lived in during my college
days and my first few years as a working journalist have now become trendy once
again. Patiala salwars have seen a revival as have dhoti pants. Flared jeans
had a brief time in the sun before giving way to jeggings. The platform heel and
the wedge have stomped back into fashion. Even the humble handloom sari – which
had been cast into oblivion because of our obsession with Western styles – is
experiencing a new wave of popularity.
And that is good news for a world-class
hoarder like me. I can pull out clothes that haven’t had an airing in years and
look completely on-trend in them (if you ignore the suspicious whiff of
mothballs). And what is even more fun is that I can see my life flash before me
in all the fashions of that particular decade.
The 70s come to life in the flared
trousers I wore to a school picnic, inspired by Zeenat Aman in Hare Rama Hare
Krishna; the shiny garara-set I donned for a family wedding based on all those
‘Muslim socials’ that were a staple of Hindi cinema in those days; and the
floppy hats and oversized sunglasses that were all the rage in those days, and
turn up in almost every photograph of that time.
The 80s are universally known as the
decade style forgot. And my picture albums certainly seem to bear that out:
flounced skirts, pedal pushers, flowery trousers, padded shoulders, all of it
accessorized with big-hair (think Joan Collins in Dynasty) and much too much
eye make-up. I can hardly bear to look at the photos without cringing and
wondering how I dared to go out in public dressed like that.
The 90s were rescued for me by Donna
Karan and her easy-to-wear aesthetic and I still have her ‘body suits’
(T-shirts and shirts that were designed like swimwear so that you had no
‘bunching’ when you wore them with trousers) nestling safely in my wardrobe.
That was also the decade when I discovered Anokhi and the pleasures of
vegetable-dye, indigo and block printing.
The start of the 21st century
in fashion terms, for me at least, was all about two names: Abraham and
Thakore. And even ten or more years later I still swear by their understated,
pared-down and sophisticated aesthetic sense. Those elegant linen trouser
suits, the silk tunics and skirts, the long kurtas with delicate embellishment,
and the beautifully-designed saris: these are the looks that will last the
ages.
Well, at least, I think so. But should
you really trust a woman who dressed in pedal pushers back in the day? Probably
not!
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