Wednesday, March 09, 2016


By Sunaina Patnaik at Wednesday, March 09, 2016

My obsession with clothes isn't fairly new. As a child, my fascination for shopping and clothes knew no end. Even when I was barely two. I vividly remember the moments when I'd come home with a glee largely visible on my face after shopping with my parents. Or the moments when I would ask for frocks with more frills. But my joy never ended with just that, because every day I would plead (often emotionally manipulate) my mother into showing me my new clothes till I'd wear them for a festival or an occasion.

I had tons of disagreements with my father about clothes. Just like today. I always liked something fancy. He always liked something delicate. As I grew older, my fascination for clothes increased along with my arguments with my parents about them. Soon, we arrived at a conclusion that we cannot do shopping together, and I took to shopping alone or with friends.

When I started earning, I imagined I could just buy everything I liked. Like I would walk into Vero Moda and walk out with at least five white bags or that I would simply step into Steve Madden and quickly swipe my card for a pair of glittery shoes that were carefully packed in one of their purple boxes. It would all be that simple, that's what I thought. Unfortunately, it was not. It was far, miles away from it. I would walk into a store and find everything so drab that I just walk out sad and dejected. I would walk into all my favourite stores in a mall and curse each of them for having things that don't excite me. And this isn't how I imagined things would be when I was a little girl. When I was a little girl, everything was beautiful. Everything seemed rosy. Everything looked like it belonged in my closet. You know what I mean? The little girl definitely did not sign up for this sort of disappointment.

Maybe you don't understand, but having a closet brimming with the choicest of clothes always meant something amazing to me. So, my fascination for clothes gradually turned into a serious compulsion to find anything half decent. Sometimes, finding half decent too became a daunting task.

My friend is engaged to be married soon, and I wanted to get a stunning outfit for her big day. Call it lack of choices or helplessness, I implored my mother to accompany me for shopping. This time, I did not use my half-baked brain or ideas, but only followed her and walked out with a little more than what I asked for. With a glee on my face  that the little girl would have approved.

I reckon there are some things in life that our parents know better. Be it the clothes that look great on us, or the life advice they constantly dole out on us. While it's not mandatory for us to follow it all, we lose absolutely nothing to pay attention, right?

P.S. Now, I got to go and adore my new dress all over again.



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