James Dean-styles
Somewhere fancy and Victorian
Shorts in Goa, memoir in making
“A strong woman understands that the gifts such as logic, decisiveness, and strength are just as feminine as intuition and emotional connection. She values and uses all of her gifts.”
You know those little luxuries that seem so mundane that we tend to overlook their significance. For instance, going to work in your own car, being able to obtain a college education, trying out for the basketball team, or going on a date without a male chaperon. These are all the things my mother never had or had to struggle for and her mother could scarcely fathom of these ideas. However, she was entirely determined that I shall have all that she could not and then some. It is the sacrifices of those women that are closest to us that tend to slip our minds yet these very actions have the most profound affects on our lives–probably if altered could have changed the entire course of our lives in an adverse manner. So today, on International Women’s Day I chose to write about the woman whose dreams and aspirations took a backseat so that mine could have center stage: My mother.
“Women have always been the strong ones of the world. The men are always seeking from women a little pillow to put their heads down on. They are always longing for the mother who held them as infants.”
Historically, women have always faced the downside of advantage and society’s austerity and authoritarianism created grave injustices and inequalities. Throughout centuries, the intellectual and rebellious have been persecuted, while women’s role in society have usually been confined to the domestic domain. My grandmother was betrothed to my grandfather by the tender age of 11,married at 14, and had her first child at 16. However, she has always been the pillar of strength and courage–the backbone of the family. Her style has always been benevolence to less fortunate and sternness to the avarice. When I ask her where she gets her toughness, she always says, “From within.” The thing with women is that, we are afraid and sometimes terrified, but it doesn’t stop us. It’s as if we are born with it intrinsically–allowing us to muster the courage to raise our voices in times of disparity and powerlessness. For every male chauvinist and misogynist that said women couldn’t, there was an Alice Paul, a Lucy Burns, a Joan of Arc, an Eleanor Roosevelt, a Gloria Steinem, an Amelia Earhart, and so forth proving that women can. From the Suffragettes to the earliest Feminists, women have always displayed a strength of character in the worst of times and in the age of foolishness.
“We need women at all levels, including the top, to change the dynamic, reshape the conversation, to make sure women’s voices are heard and heeded, not overlooked and ignored.”
Yet at times, it feels that growth for women is very stagnant. The glass ceiling is still prevalent, people are scared to be identified as feminists, and social media tends to create abnormal and unattainable beauty and image ideals that instill insecurity and crack the purity of innocence and self-respect. I look at my mother and see a woman who has worked every single day of her life and receives the best performance reviews among her colleagues yet is paid $4 less than the men in her department. This same woman campaigned for the position of the president of the student council at her university in India and won–twice. Not only beating out all of her male competition, but by a fairly large margin too; however, she was overlooked for a supervisor promotion because they felt she might be “too soft” and not a true leader. We take aside one day to celebrate and acknowledge women, but then the rest of the year the issues sustain ignorance. Everyone always says, you have to be patient, women have to be patience. But when you look back to the beginning of time–women are the only ones that have always been patience. So when I still see inequality, lack of proper education for girls, women locked into predetermined societal roles, and an absence of choice, I ask why? Why do women need to be patient for basic human rights?
Plaid and trousers, day of wedding
Summer silk rose
Coffee tones, cold mood
Halter and white sari, cool spring breeze
“A woman is like a tea bag–you never know how strong she is until she gets into hot water.“
I came across an album of my mother’s photographs that genuinely deserve to be in an issue of Harper’s Bazaar or Vintage Vogue. When I first came across these years ago, I was flabbergasted because I thought she had a secret life–like a fashionista or a model.
She’s a rebel. Cut her hair short when the norm considered long, black hair a standard beauty ideal. She loved high waist trousers, assortment of colors, fitted blouses, and tiny belts. Yet she always projected her Indian identity with modern silk and chiffon saris or salwars. Her style book is her own. She did not walk with the trend, but had her own trend. This was probably some time between 20-30 years ago, she was the wee age of 22 or 23 yet definitely more confident than I am now at times. In the picture where she has henna on her hands, that is her wedding day and she woke up and wore trousers and plaid because that’s who she is. She pushes the envelope and stays true to herself. How does she do? Where does she get it from?
Her confidence stems from a difficult childhood and maturing before her time. Some will say that the true strength of a woman is best tested in arduous times. It’s true. She grow up without a mother and her father passed away when she was 16, and lived in an orthodox society that was struggling to adapt to the liberal views of the 80s generation. Her dreams were many times considered too beyond her means and she learned to let go. When I ask her if she has any regrets, she always says no because she always found happiness in whatever she received and did not ponder on the things she couldn’t have. Her mantra: “Keep it simple. Minimalistic is the best route. The more complex and complicated you make your life, the more you have to untangle. True happiness is finding contentment with the small surprises life throws at you. But you must learn to appreciate the small things before life can give you something grand.”
“You don’t have to be pretty. You don’t owe prettiness to anyone. Not to your boyfriend/spouse/partner, not to your co-workers, especially not to random men on the street. You don’t owe it to civilization. Prettiness is not a rent you pay for occupying a space marked ‘female’.”
She’s my trailblazer. Our mothers are. Whatever confidence we have, it comes from them.
My mother always told me when I was young that my role in life was never to be JUST someone’s wife or someone’s mother or this or that. It was to be whoever I wanted, when I wanted. Granted, as an Indian girl in my mid-20s I am perfectly aware and accustomed to societal pressures to marriage–but I have been raised to know that my identity can be career-driven or home-drive or both. But essentially it is my choice. This is what are mothers instill in us. The ability to be your own kind of woman, make rational choices, mostly be selfless, but at times to be selfish.
I know that there are many things my mother could have probably done if she didn’t have children. But that was her choice. She wanted her first born to be a daughter and she promised herself that her daughter would never have to relinquish her dreams or desires that way she had to. She wanted me to choose the life I live, the partner I share it with, and build my very own legacy in the world. All the things that I have today is because somewhere down the line, she held some of her dreams back. And my mother received the very little that she did because her mother held some of her wishes back. Every predecessor generation has sacrificed so much so that today we can appreciate the comforts and conveniences they could not.
In essence, always in vogue: mothers. Always pure, always dreamers, always fluffing our aura and setting us up to succeed. Call them. Not just today, but every day. Hold them because now they are old and tired and deserve a gentle remainder that they matter. Be patience when they ask for help with technology or basically anything for she was the one that taught you how to walk and stayed up long, late nights when you had fevers and chills. And be very kind because you’ll always be her baby.
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Honor the women in your life and make an effort to learn about their sacrifices. Also, every woman has her own fashion diaries. Find the ones that belong to your mother and garner a sense of her youthful style and personality.
PS: Please share anything interesting you find. I’m always interested in portraits of real women and their inspirational life stories. Happy Women’s Day.
The Flaneuse Journal 