Fat Shopping in Mumbai

If the clothes don't fit, a smile will do! First written with friends in the Ochre Sky writing community.

It is not fun being obese. My feet hurt and something is always dragging me down. Maybe it is shame or maybe it is the all the gravity that my extra kilos need! And then there is the perennial battle with clothes. My closet is full of clothes I either don’t get into or that are too baggy. If I find something I like, I get three of the same, adding to the boredom of it all. Dressmakers don’t want much to do with me - they focus on creating tent-like clothes that they are sure will not be too small.

I have stopped looking for ready-made clothes my size. Sometimes, out of interest, I do a little social experiment to see how much kindness there is in the world for those of us who are larger than the regular template. I walk into fancy boutiques and start browsing the racks. The attendants look at me out of the corners of their eyes. They are in the middle of a conversation they do not want to break, or they are doing something interesting on their phones. They are not motivated to attend to a fat woman they know will not find anything in their store. Oh no! She would have to lose at least 30 kilos first. I am looking at this top and that shirt, but actually, it is them I am watching. They are waiting for me to leave. They are throwing me impatient glances - this lady does not seem to be getting it! With a sigh, one of the young boys walks over to me. He is silent. He is still waiting for me to give up, and wondering how to tell me that nothing in their store will fit me. But I am playing my own game. I start looking at even less likely possibilities. Slim-fit sleeveless tops. Short dresses in lovely pastel shades. I hold the dresses up to look at the colours. I feel the fabric with my hands. Baby-pink, powder-blue, lavender. Satin, muslin, cotton, lace. Now the young man looks across at the others for help, appealing to them silently with his eyes. Hey, I give up – one of you take over now! He slinks away and one of the girls walks over. She asks me how she can help me. FINALLY!! By this time, I have been in the store for at least twenty minutes.  I am looking for something pretty and comfortable for my daughter, I say. Something an average sized young adult can wear to a semi-formal event? In front of my eyes, she snaps into selling mode.  She shows me a whole lot of stuff.  A couple of the others pipe in with suggestions when they notice that I am not averse to looking at some of the more expensive displays. Now three of them are hovering around and shoving clothes in my face. I spend some time looking at everything they thrust at me. Then I say Naaaaah – I am actually looking for something a little more trendy, a better quality of fabric, a little more style. I’m sorry for taking your time, I say, looking straight into their eyes, perhaps next time I will find something I like. They look sheepish. Silently, they let me go. I get back on to the footpath and look around for my next target! 

I am happy to report that every once in a while, I meet a young person who goes that extra mile to help me find something suitable. They are thrilled if I find something I like, and genuinely apologetic if there is nothing in my size – they don’t realize that they have already given me more than I had hoped to find.

Images generated on Microsoft Bing.