Thursday, 12 April 2012

Dress me up....with Style, with Goonj



Girls Girls Girls...we are obsessed with clothes, we love junk jewellery, we love humongous glares, we lurve our fuschia pinks, parrot greens and electric blues. We like the Amritsari jutti and the Hush Puppies, just as much. The Latte and the Bhutta, both look equally yummm in our hands...now, now.

Delhi is known world over for having the best chic-magnet markets, shopping areas, style sense, fashionistas, informal hangouts and the most vibrant summers, be it street-vendors or showroom-shoppers (mostly window),  or the 'just chill'-dudes.
You want it...Delhi's got it.


I remember, back in my fucchha days of college, when we were still getting the hang of being an Archi, my teacher once said, "If you have to be an architect, you have to be as labourious as an ant, and as attentive as girls on a shopping spree". We all giggled (predictable), because we knew exactly what he meant. Sadly, the guys didn’t, most still don't. Can't blame them, because when they take their girls out shopping, they fret and fume over why the womenfolk took so much time to make up their mind, and the girls fret and fume too...because its stressful to decide when there's too much to choose from, or too little to choose from, and also if there is too much that you want but can't afford....(mostly it’s the latter that’s frustrating)
Phew...It Was Stressful!
Let me explain, courtesy this Facebook illustration my friends once uploaded :


How do guys and girls see colours--------------------




THIS is what it meant!
God seems to have blessed the Female with the ability to scrutinize each and every commodity with such great detail, that it could drive men insane.... and let’s not blame them; their eye to brain coordination doesn’t go beyond the sports' field or bird watching! 
They just function differently. 

I remember, when I was young, my parents were very simple and pushed us more towards studying and hardly on my dressing. I was constantly conscious of myself when I was out in public because whenever I went to birthday parties, more often than not, I repeated clothes. Buying clothes was sacrosanct as we were taken out only once every year to buy two pairs of new clothes for the whole year: 
One for Deepavali, and One for the Birthday.

And I waited for shopping day with such eagerness...it was unnerving! 
Me and my brother used to endlessly make a list of all the possible permutations and combinations we could achieve by choosing the right pair of  tops and bottom, and I was obviously much more articulate....I mean for girls, there was just such a plethora to choose from...The math was of monumental value (Forgive me the melodrama)
It could be a skirt, but the top had to be common for both trousers and skirts, and the other set could be Jeans and top or dungarees or a frock, for special occasions...and the list was editted, shortlisted and FINALLY, two sets used to make it to the end.
And we were a fairly comfortable Middle Class Family.

As I entered college my parents realized that nothing could stop me from being a Girlie (just imagine!)... I too loved dressing up, and I too loved looking the part. Of course, I never overdid it, but the sheer freedom to choose my clothes was empowering...really. It helped me define my own style and my own personality and really made me more confident.

My friend’s mother once spoke to my mom and the two ladies, in their moment of motherly (mamata bhare) discussion, were discussing their daughters. When my mom expressed her shock on my sudden inclination towards shopping and clothes, my friend’s mom was surprised at her. She simply said, "Mrs. Iyengar, if you want your kids to feel good, you got to let them look good. I agree it has limits, and our kids know their limits. But honestly, let her do as much as she needs to feel confident to move out...its peer pressure you know."
And that was it, it was Peer Pressure.


There was pressure to look good, feel good, speak well; walk good...being a teenager was stressful in itself and having to deal with Mom's issues…it was too much.

But that perspective changed when I got over myself, when wearing casuals and not uniforms became normal. When the initial overwhelm wore out, I realized that it was merely a fascination. Janpath, Lajpat, Sarojini, and Kamla Nagar too became window shopping addas, and Dressing up or Dressing down wasn't as much of a cool-factor anymore.

And then Goonj happened. I was back from college and had gained a perspective on things,like they say…
We came across a banner one day dangling over a nearby tree outside a neighbourhood school asking people to donate whatever clothes, used, unused, spare, gadgets, blankets, chappals, shoes, napkins, bottle, books, pages, pencils…anything and everything which they thought they didn’t need. And it said Goonj in big black words.

I collected a few things and got to the venue on time on the day of collection and realized there were truckloads of donations from people. A volunteer spoke to us about how Goonj started. It was merely a thought that had popped up when a guy, a founder, saw street kids walking around with no footing or scanty clothes in the cold. 
A 20 rupee hawai chappal that was just so L.S. for us…it was a luxury for some.

The thought was perennial and brave. And all I was doing was giving away things I didn’t need. And it would benefit those who didn’t have anything they needed. Soon we made many more trips to these camps. We still do it when we can.

I searched more on the foundation and found out that what we discard as waste clothes, Goonj used them for street kids, especially during harsh winters; they used it for the development issue in rural India (a concept of Shramdaan- where you do labour and get the community involved in development), as a bridge between rural and urbane schools in the country etc. They were doing work as intrinsically sensitive as empowering and educating women to use cloth and cotton to make sanitary napkins, these women hadn’t heard of any sanitary napkins for crying out loud! They used paper, tissue, ash (the thought is a horror in itself) and god knows what other atrocity to get through their menstrual.

That thought stayed with me, and I am sure you don’t need to be a girl or a guy to understand the torment that these women and children went through if they didn’t even cover their vitals that counted as basics for survival…its plain agony.


And so each time I donate my clothes, my books or my slippers to Goonj instead of waiting for them to tater and shred, till they can’t be used anymore, I feel a sense of empowerment...and not in a typical "Nari Mukti Morcha" kind of way, but more like 'womano-a-womano'. 

I feel like if I am helping even one girl in some 'oolu' place somewhere, cover herself essentially, and one woman somewhere protect herself from her torment, to the say the least; even if it is just one…I can live with that. And this is not a promotional ad, it’s just something too personal…

Visit: http://goonj.org/ , if you are in the least interested…


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