How do I look?

She turned from side to side with an eagre expression on her face. The dress she was wearing was a skintight sleeveless jersey on top of shapeless denim pants. Her body, though slim seemed to ooze out of the dress and her ample bosom heaved with anticipation as she stole a glance at her boyfriend who trained his attention on her neckline with a critical eye. I waited impatiently for my turn at the fitting room. This is not the first time I had encountered buxom nymphs waiting with bated breath for their boyfriends to comment on their choice of clothes or the way the dress fitted or in most cases didn't! Once I was at a popular clothing store and as usual waiting for my turn at the fitting room queue. A young lady who was obviously married came out of one of the cubicles in a asymmetrical yellow skirt. She was holding her kameez up so her husband could see how she looked. The woman was young because her eyes still had that sparkle of youth and newly wedded because her eyes didn't yet have that faraway futile stare which many women who have been married for a while have. Needless to say she expected her husband's jaw to drop and a resounding "wow!" She got none. Instead, the guy who was also talking on his phone waved his hand as if dismissing her choice. His face betrayed nothing though. Only his lips moved in conversation with whoever it was on the other end of the line. The woman was not one to give up so soon. She emerged from the cubicle in 5 minutes, this time in a red knee length pencil skirt. Like most Bengali women, she too had her share of cellulite around her knees and upper calves. Plus she needed a waxing session. I cringed and so did the floor manager who was nearby and happened to caste a glance at her legs. The husband had now finished his conversation and was now looking intently at those not so heavenly legs while the wife catwalked in the skirt and kameez bunched up. I had grown more impatient by now and so had many other women. "Chhere dao. Bhalo noy eta. Salwar kameez tai bhalo. Skirt firt porte hobe na. Cholo..." The expectant smile vanished and off flew the wife into the cubicle. She was out in 20 seconds with the red skirt and the yellow skirt draped over her arm. She handed them to the floor manager and obediently followed her husband out of the store.

It's not just the boyfriends and husbands who form the jury. Often I have seen 'mothers' advocating how high should the neckline be or how low should the hemline be in order for the dress to be passed off as okay. While I was in New Delhi, I had gone shopping for a good pair of dark blue denims. My search took me to the Levi's store in South Ex. There was a teenage girl who was trying out a great pair of acid washed denims. It was super low-rise with extra flare. (The trend of skinny jeans hadn't hit this part of the world yet.) Her mother made her parade through the store and sit on the floor, the couches and even the high stools at the cash counter to check if too much of her hindside was visible. The girl protested saying it was cool to show off your hindside but in the end, the mother's verdict prevailed. She went home empty handed. While they were on their way out I overheard her mother saying: "Papa kya sochenge agar tu iss tarah ke kapre pehnegi...? Dadi kya sochegi? Dadji kya sochenge? Society ke log kya sochenge? Humare rishtedaar kya sochenge?" (What will your father think if he sees you wearing such clothes? What will your grand dad think? And your grand mom? And our society people? And our relatives?)