The Journey to How Six Yards Became My Power Outfit

 Until recently, sarees were something I only wore at family functions like weddings or when the extended family insisted that I wear them at an event or function. To me, sarees are like a flowing, billowing costume from an era long gone and definitely not something that a businesswoman dealing with client calls, commuting on the metro and working late would wear on a regular basis. This all changed one day when I borrowed one of my mother's old handloom sarees for a day at work.

I expected that my mother wore her saree for an ethnic day at work; I expected people to be looking at me and making negative comments about me wearing a saree to work, but that was not the case. Instead of receiving negative comments, I received the following; silent smiles from my older colleagues; Questions from younger colleagues regarding my saree; and a renewed sense of grounded confidence. Six yards of fabric connected me to the lineage of women who wore sarees when they went to classrooms, boardrooms, and courtrooms long before the term "power dressing" was coined. 

During my experimentation with sarees, rather than just wearing them on special occasions, I began to see these garments as pieces of clothing that can be worn in daily life. Initially, when wearing sarees, I thought they had to be reserved for special occasions only, and wore them as such. However, eventually, I experimented with wearing a saree on an ordinary day to see how it would work in my day-to-day activities. I paired a breathable, handwoven saree made from natural fibres and a white cotton top and a laptop bag. I discovered that, with the humidity of Bengaluru, our typical synthetic sarees aren’t as breathable and forgiving as handwoven sarees made from natural fibres such as bamboo or cotton. The fabric of the saree moved with my body rather than against it; my commute, climbing stairs, and back-to-back meetings seemed to be more manageable rather than overwhelming.

There is something about wearing a saree to a place of business that reminds us of the unwritten codes regarding what we consider “professional” and imported from the West that is a bit revolutionary. During my experiences with the saree at work, I observed individuals' behaviour changed without individuals’ knowing why they changed. In meetings, I noticed how the same points I had always made with little effect suddenly had more weight, not because of the appearance of the saree but due to my increased confidence, which, as a result, changed my body posture and my ability to verbally express what I thought and had to say without feeling like I was taking up space. The six yards of fabric I had traditionally worn as a symbol of who I was now represent that I am wearing my identity proudly as an Indian woman with confidence and poise.

So, as time passed, both my wardrobe and my morning routine changed dramatically. Rather than grabbing pants that I did not think about; I grabbed sarees to match the event on my calendar. For example, a soft woven cotton saree for the more businesslike atmosphere when I was sometimes needing more clarity rather than lots of drama. A little dressier silk-cotton combination for when I would be presenting to a client such as needing to be presentable but not overly showing off.. I was encouraged to see from collections by companies such as Taneira that the handloom industry could be supported without compromising comfort and modern designs; it could simply be supporting one well-made saree that would suit different aspects of life.

I have found some garments that allow airflow through the fabric, allow the fabric to be used for different kinds of occasions, and allow the wearer to do their daily tasks without it feeling like they are always adjusting their saree.

There were certainly challenges to learning how to put on a saree easily, learning to sit comfortably in an office chair without getting it wrapped around oneself, and responding to well-intended questions such as, "But isn't it uncomfortable to wear one?" The response is that most sarees that are made from natural fibres and that are handwoven are usually more forgiving than modern structured styles of business wear.

I no longer have a “power outfit,” which was my blazer for all my “big meetings” at work. Instead, it has evolved into a rotation of sarees that have seen me through the appraisal process, difficult conversations, product launches, and during lulls in the week when my only victory was getting through my inbox. The sarees are cotton that breathes, silk that is not too heavy to wear, and many have blends of fibres that understand there is a difference between a boardroom in an air-conditioned environment and a subway trip with crowded rush hour commuters. Each saree has been handwoven and contains imperfections that give the garments a more human touch, and each saree can be easily styled to represent both the professional side of who I am and the person behind my job description.

My decision to wear a saree every day has not made me a more “traditional” person in the sense that the term is commonly used. If anything, wearing a saree has made me more confident. I have learned that power does not come from copying the global dress code, but rather from being able to exist comfortably within my own skin. Six yards of cloth have become my power outfit, not because they have changed who I am as a person, but because six yards of cloth have made it impossible for me to forget that I am a modern woman living in a modern city carrying a handwoven history into every room that I enter.