As an investment banker in New York City, Poornima Vardhan had all the right clothes: power suits, cocktail dresses and jeans. Then she returned to India and realised that her wardrobe was as bland as an American breakfast.
For women like Vardhan who move easily between Asia and the West, India's vast and vibrant array of traditional clothing styles presents an unusual sartorial challenge. "My wardrobe had to expand by at least 50 per cent when I came back," Vardhan, 28, said. "There's a lot more diversity to the clothing needed in India."
Vardhan is one of tens of thousands of recent "repats" — Indians who left for educational or work opportunities abroad but then returned as India's economy began to boom. Such repats often face daunting challenges readjusting to India's chaos and corruption, and many end up leaving India again in frustration.
But women confront an additional challenge that their male counterparts do not: remaking their wardrobes. For Vardhan, the style adjustment is central to her return: she came back in part because she was convinced that India's rapidly growing retail clothing industry was a perfect business opportunity. She is now the general manager for brand strategy and retail planning for Genesis Colors.
Professionally, going from finance to fashion has been more challenging than she expected. "Now I have to think creatively and have an entrepreneurial mindset, unlike in investment banking," she said.
The opportunity results not just from India's growing economy and rising middle class but because India, unlike most other emerging countries, has managed to retain its clothing traditions even among the upper classes. Although blue jeans are now popular, their sales are still dwarfed by those of saris.
Why India's distinctive clothing styles have managed to survive the cultural onslaught from the West is something of a mystery.
While some returnees complain about needing more closet space, that has not been a problem for Vardhan. She recently moved out of her parents' house and into a two-bedroom apartment of her own, somewhat unusual for a single woman in India. Her father owns an aviation consulting business and her mother is a teacher. Her sister lives in London and works as a business strategy consultant.
Standing in her nearly empty apartment in Gurgaon, a rapidly growing neighbourhood south of New Delhi, she described one of her first purchases after arriving home in April. It was a bright yellow sleeveless cotton kurta with white churidar pajamas. "I bought several of these outfits right after I moved back," Vardhan said. "And it's what I wear on a regular basis to work."
Modesty is a crucial part of the adjustment to India. While India has none of the strict clothing laws of some avowedly Muslim nations, a woman's knees are rarely displayed.
"A complete no-no in Indian modesty is to show legs," said Mukulika Banerjee, a professor of anthropology at the London School of Economics and Political Science and co-author of "The Sari." "Cleavage is fine but not legs."
As a result, when choosing their outfits, women in India must make fairly complex calculations regarding place, culture and transportation. If Vardhan uses a driver and knows she will step straight from her car to her destination, she may show some leg and go sleeveless. If she uses a cab or must walk part of the way, she chooses more modest apparel.
Like many female repats, Vardhan finds that one of the most daunting challenges of returning to India is wearing a sari — because it is draped — allows her to adjust her look to her environment. The sari is still by far the dominant women's apparel in India.
"I'm trying to wear saris to work sometimes because I think people take you more seriously when you wear them," Vardhan said.
She bought several cotton saris for day-to-day wear but is still learning how to wrap them, a process she said has been unnerving.
She is not alone. "Wearing a sari is like driving," said Banerjee. "You only get better by doing it, but you're terrified the first few times you try."
Vardhan's mother has given her several silk saris for formal occasions, some stitched with gold. Weddings are such an important part of Indian culture that some women — like the perennial bridesmaid played by Katherine Heigl in the movie "27 Dresses" — have closets choked with wedding saris.
Part of the trick to wearing a formal sari is displaying the garment's palla, where much of the garment's needlework is concentrated. "It's very different from wearing a western outfit, where you zip it up and you're done," Vardhan said. "I feel very grown-up in a sari."
She said she has worn a power suit only four times since returning to India, when she met with people from her former life in finance. She has yet to wear some of her favourite finds from SoHo boutiques, including an evening dress that ends mid-thigh.
"I love this dress. I think I'm beautiful in it, and it reminds me very much of New York, which is a good feeling," Vardhan said with sad fondness. "But you can't show this much leg here."
She will store that and other dresses with her winter coats, taking them out only for her occasional trips back to New York. But she hopes some day to find a way to blend her favourite western and Indian wear in a way that has a universal appeal.
"As the world becomes more global, I hope to strike the right balance," she said.
For women like Vardhan who move easily between Asia and the West, India's vast and vibrant array of traditional clothing styles presents an unusual sartorial challenge. "My wardrobe had to expand by at least 50 per cent when I came back," Vardhan, 28, said. "There's a lot more diversity to the clothing needed in India."
Vardhan is one of tens of thousands of recent "repats" — Indians who left for educational or work opportunities abroad but then returned as India's economy began to boom. Such repats often face daunting challenges readjusting to India's chaos and corruption, and many end up leaving India again in frustration.
But women confront an additional challenge that their male counterparts do not: remaking their wardrobes. For Vardhan, the style adjustment is central to her return: she came back in part because she was convinced that India's rapidly growing retail clothing industry was a perfect business opportunity. She is now the general manager for brand strategy and retail planning for Genesis Colors.
Professionally, going from finance to fashion has been more challenging than she expected. "Now I have to think creatively and have an entrepreneurial mindset, unlike in investment banking," she said.
The opportunity results not just from India's growing economy and rising middle class but because India, unlike most other emerging countries, has managed to retain its clothing traditions even among the upper classes. Although blue jeans are now popular, their sales are still dwarfed by those of saris.
Why India's distinctive clothing styles have managed to survive the cultural onslaught from the West is something of a mystery.
While some returnees complain about needing more closet space, that has not been a problem for Vardhan. She recently moved out of her parents' house and into a two-bedroom apartment of her own, somewhat unusual for a single woman in India. Her father owns an aviation consulting business and her mother is a teacher. Her sister lives in London and works as a business strategy consultant.
Standing in her nearly empty apartment in Gurgaon, a rapidly growing neighbourhood south of New Delhi, she described one of her first purchases after arriving home in April. It was a bright yellow sleeveless cotton kurta with white churidar pajamas. "I bought several of these outfits right after I moved back," Vardhan said. "And it's what I wear on a regular basis to work."
Modesty is a crucial part of the adjustment to India. While India has none of the strict clothing laws of some avowedly Muslim nations, a woman's knees are rarely displayed.
"A complete no-no in Indian modesty is to show legs," said Mukulika Banerjee, a professor of anthropology at the London School of Economics and Political Science and co-author of "The Sari." "Cleavage is fine but not legs."
As a result, when choosing their outfits, women in India must make fairly complex calculations regarding place, culture and transportation. If Vardhan uses a driver and knows she will step straight from her car to her destination, she may show some leg and go sleeveless. If she uses a cab or must walk part of the way, she chooses more modest apparel.
Like many female repats, Vardhan finds that one of the most daunting challenges of returning to India is wearing a sari — because it is draped — allows her to adjust her look to her environment. The sari is still by far the dominant women's apparel in India.
"I'm trying to wear saris to work sometimes because I think people take you more seriously when you wear them," Vardhan said.
She bought several cotton saris for day-to-day wear but is still learning how to wrap them, a process she said has been unnerving.
She is not alone. "Wearing a sari is like driving," said Banerjee. "You only get better by doing it, but you're terrified the first few times you try."
Vardhan's mother has given her several silk saris for formal occasions, some stitched with gold. Weddings are such an important part of Indian culture that some women — like the perennial bridesmaid played by Katherine Heigl in the movie "27 Dresses" — have closets choked with wedding saris.
Part of the trick to wearing a formal sari is displaying the garment's palla, where much of the garment's needlework is concentrated. "It's very different from wearing a western outfit, where you zip it up and you're done," Vardhan said. "I feel very grown-up in a sari."
She said she has worn a power suit only four times since returning to India, when she met with people from her former life in finance. She has yet to wear some of her favourite finds from SoHo boutiques, including an evening dress that ends mid-thigh.
"I love this dress. I think I'm beautiful in it, and it reminds me very much of New York, which is a good feeling," Vardhan said with sad fondness. "But you can't show this much leg here."
She will store that and other dresses with her winter coats, taking them out only for her occasional trips back to New York. But she hopes some day to find a way to blend her favourite western and Indian wear in a way that has a universal appeal.
"As the world becomes more global, I hope to strike the right balance," she said.