My OCD with Textiles

I have a small problem. It's called fabric addiction. I am completely obsessed with the high quality and quantity of raw Indian spun silks, linen, cotton, and other natural fibers available on the subcontinent. India's fabric selection, certainly, is one of its finest and strongest assets.

The fabric store, which I have been frequenting at a rate of about once per week, actually assigned a personal assistant to me for every time I arrive at the shop. If he is with clients, he finds an assistant for them and comes out to greet me. They all know my name. They serve me tea within five minutes of arrival. Yes: it is ridiculous.

One night I needed a new sari for work. There is something really sensual about the Indian sari: It shows a woman's curves but with such modesty and elegance, it's much like a Greek or Roman toga. On that night at the shop I found a jade green, pure silk sari with a gold border. One of the men came forward to drape the sari, and it was quite entertaining to watch him in the mirror as he made every effort to avoid coming into contact with my body. When it was done, I was walking back and forth across the room for an audience of the shopkeepers in front of the mirror-covered wall, feeling (and looking, perhaps) like an ancient goddess. I then chose a gold fabric with a contrasting pattern against the border for the blouse, which I had stitched.

I cannot describe the feeling of standing around and so nonchalantly selecting fabric that can (perhaps) be found nowhere else. It's like I'm in Narnia or a Tolkien novel, running my fingers over the rich textures and patterns unknown to other Westerners who have never been here and knowing that this is the stuff Armani and all the designers import for their new season lines. Shockingly, even "Irish linen" is spun here.

Advised by my trusty fabric consultant, Hiran, we go through the reams of new arrivals and choose some things for my tailor. At the end, I've spent around $20-30 for around six-seven meters of fabric. So between this fabric and the fabulous work of my tailor, I feel like the Barbie doll of the richest girl in town. No doubt I will miss this aspect of my life here.