Several years ago, when I first moved to Islamabad, there were barely any boutiques for buying local or countrywide designer womenswear. Residents pre-planned their shopping, some venturing to Lahore and others braving the darzi route. Since then, several largish multibrand boutiques thankfully sprung up across the capital, featuring the part-inspired, part-cookie-cutter work of dozens and dozens of designers with similar names who range from trained professionals to bored housewives.
Over the last few seasons, I’ve often found some pretty clothes
here and there, so when I ventured out shopping yesterday on the lookout for an
Eid-appropriate outfit, I expected to enjoy browsing through clothing racks. Instead,
the search was nothing short of a caffeine-deprived nightmare: hideously large
crystals on chikan, animal prints with
fussy Aunty-style details, and radiant colours made mundane with maternity cuts.
Now, people
pay tens of thousands to look like gift-wrapped mithai boxes on certain occasions (and I’ve voluntarily done it
too) but I frankly couldn’t stomach it this time; all I’d wanted was a
reasonably chic outfit with clean lines and a flattering cut. Is there anyone
else who’s sick of OTT embroidery and sweeping shirts that do the work of jharoos when you walk (not to mention
stumbling on the stairs)?
Instead of retail therapy, I experienced retail frustration.
Here’s why:
Boxy cuts galore: They say the camera
adds 15 lbs but that’s nothing compared with the bulk enhancing cuts that seem
to be doing very well judging from their mass production.
Discrepancies in sizes: No, it’s not
you’re imagination. You may be a size XS according to one designer’s label and
a size XL according to another because designers pretty much use their own
bodies (or their Best Gal Pals in the case of male designers) for sizes. So
next time it’d frankly be easier to try on clothes designed by someone similar
to your body type: petite/Amazonian/lollipop/beanpole/pear-shaped/apple-shaped.
Taking separates to a whole other level:
While I’m a big fan of buying separates, the concept also seems to include
selling a completely sheer kurta
without an accompanying camisole at the price of an entire outfit. It’s a pain
trying to match what to wear underneath (and if it has slits, it’s double the
bother avoiding the peek-a-boo aspect).
You just end up feeling hot and uncomfortable with all the layering. Why
bother!
Pray for better Pret: Disappointing
cheaper designer lines may sometimes feature inferior quality and styles, a far
cry from their 6-digit couture namesakes.
Ultra-prudish schoolmarm styles: Unnecessarily
high necklines and itchingly long sleeves increase one’s suffering in the sweltering
heat. Beware when buying so-called ‘sleeveless’ shirts too—some of them have
such small, pseudo-conservative armholes that they dig into your underarms.
Unrealistically slinky daytime styles: Seriously,
isn’t half the reason you’re buying a kameez
so that you can wear it generally
anywhere without worrying about flashing too much skin? While it may look
cute in a magazine or on the runway, sexily strappy and halter style cotton kameezes
are pretty ridiculous for daytime wear and a bizarre no-no for eveningwear
where you’d rather dress in something edgier. Confused ‘fusion!’
Hideous crystallized logos: There is no
logic to this absolutely cringe-worthy practice of garishly sparkly international
designer logos embroidered on the bodices of local ‘designer’ kameezes.
Spotted: intertwined Chanel-style C’s in Islamabad and LVs in Lahore…ugh! Seriously,
what were they thinking?
Familiar market prints and strips of
embroidery: When a price tag’s hefty, why would you want to buy an outfit
using material commonly sourced from an ordinary market, not to mention strips
of embroidery available at commercial button & ribbon shops and pretty much
just stitched on? Even truck-arty and pop-arty styles become to look monotonous
after seeing them incessantly in print, broadcast and digital media for the
past couple of years.
Lipstick and foundation smudges: Just
when you find an outfit that’s seriously pretty, only to notice residual makeup
and whiffs of perfume smeared on its neckline, one cant help but wonder if it’s
from the person who tried it on before you or if it’s straight off the sweaty runway.
Power failures and loud generators: Shopping
is supposed to be a pleasurable experience where your senses are heightened by
upbeat music and a comfortable temperature, prompting you to spend more money.
Generators (or a lack of) and bad music help kill the mood.
...If you’re wondering if I found anything,I bought the first outfit I could find with a neckline comfortable enough to breathe in, without an iota of embroidery, and with a cut that didn’t require the quantity of material used to make curtains.
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