Style files

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 21^st 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 21^st 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!

Belt up!

As overcoats become part of our winter wardrobe, the classic trench is quite the trend-setter

There are few everyday pleasures more life-affirming that sitting at the window of your favourite cafe, sipping a steaming cup of cappuccino, and watching the world go by on a sunny winter afternoon. There’s the harried mother hurrying along, two frisky toddlers in tow; the lovelorn couple who insist on walking hand-in-hand even if it means blocking the entire pavement; the gaggle of girls who have bunked classes on this glorious day to do some serious window-shopping; the laptop-wielding professionals out for a business lunch.

As I idly watched them pass by my window to the world a few weeks ago, I began to wonder: just when did overcoats become part of our winter dressing in India?

I remember shivering through many winters when I first moved to Delhi while my long, black, toasty overcoat gathered dust in the closet. No, I wasn’t a glutton for punishment. It was just that nobody – and I do mean nobody – ever wore overcoats to keep out the cold. Instead you were supposed to layer – thermals, sweatshirt, sweater, jacket, muffler, shawl, all piled on, one on top of the other – until you resembled nothing more than a little butterball. But overcoats were only pulled out when you were travelling abroad in the winter.

Don’t ask me why. It’s just the way it was. Overcoats were simply not part of our winter wardrobe in this part of the world, no matter how cold it got.

That, thank God, is no longer the case. Now you see every kind of overcoat on display on the streets in colours ranging from boring black and regulation camel to red, pink or even yellow and every fabric from heavy wool to supple tweed or even soft leather. There’s the quilted knee-length number; the ankle-length style that provides complete coverage; the pea-coat version; or the formal double-breasted.

And then, there’s my personal favourite: the belted trench.

For several winters now, I have lived in a trench that I snapped up at an Abraham and Thakore end-of-season sale. It’s made of black silk, lined with lightweight wool, and embellished with an appliqué pattern of a palm-print. A three-button style, it comes with a thin fabric belt that you can use to cinch your waist in.

And what makes it worth every rupee of its price is that it goes with simply everything. You can slip in on over a tailored suit; you can wear it over jeans and a sweater; it works with a woollen dress; it’s perfect with a tailored skirt. Hell, you could even pair it with track-pants and it would still look elegant and fresh.

But then, that’s the thing about the trench. It is simply the most versatile winter garment ever. And given the many different trench-styles patrolling our streets these days, I’m guessing that more people than ever are buying into the trend.

It helps, of course, that the label that is synonymous with the trench – Burberry – is now in India and doing brisk business (its sales are second only to Louis Vuitton). The company recently hosted an Art Of The Trench event in India, where it invited people to come wearing their Burberry trenches, styling them in their own distinctive ways. And I have to confess that I was taken aback at the number of people who owned one.

If you ask me, though, nobody wears a Burberry trench better than Catherine Middleton, or as she must now be styled, the Duchess of Cambridge. In one of her first engagements as the fiancé of Prince William, she chose to wear a knee-length trench with frill detail at the hem, a kind of cross between a coat and a dress. Needless to say, the style sold out in stores soon after.

In India, the Burberry trench has been spotted on various Bollywood beauties. Deepika Padukone wore a rather fetching, thigh-skimming version at the Grand Prix in Noida. Lesser stars like Jacqueline Fernandes and Neha Dhupia have both been snapped in trenches as well. But, for my money, the Duchess is still on top of that particular style list.

Ah money. Yes, there’s no getting around that. The Burberry trench is expensive – and it is the only style that never goes on sale. No, never ever. I guess one way of justifying the expense is to tell yourself – over and over – that it is a classic that will never go out of fashion. And that it will begin to pay for itself in a decade or so.

But if you can’t hypnotise yourself into spending that kind of money, never fear. Every high street brand is doing its own version of the trench and some of them look just as good (even if, alas, some of them don’t feel quite as luxurious). Try your luck at Zara, Top Shop, or even some of the designer brand factory outlets as the winter winds down.

This is, in fact, the best time to get your hands on this style staple at an end-of-season sale. And it will be a bargain at any price because you will be living in it for many winters to come.

I should know. I’m wearing my Abraham and Thakore trench even as I type this. And it looks just as good as new.