Of durbars and dhotis

The excitement that the arrival of the invitations from the White House caused was soon transformed into consternation when the eye settled on "black-tie" printed at the bottom right of the card. Officials, businessmen, journalists sank into the deepest layers of thought to negotiate the awkward dress code. Necessity is the mother of innovation. Rent a tuxedo, someone said. These magic words electrified the group. After spending a day pouring over yellow pages, off they went to Washington’s fanciest rental stores for weddings.

It is rumoured that one of the journalists was so embarrassed at the thought of going to a party in rented clothes that he actually bought a tuxedo. Another was so careful not to be underdressed that he actually paid extra for a blazing cummerbund. Those with imagination, like the Prime Minister himself, escaped these convulsions: they had taken care to turn up on a visit such as this with a dark, bandh-gala, Jodhpur suit!

Unseemly scramble to cope with the White House dress code has posed a simple question: Is there a national Indian dress for formal occasions? When Indian ambassadors present their credentials to foreign heads of state, they wear black Sherwani and churidar pyjamas. At banquets hosted by the President or the Prime Minister, at the Rashtrapati Bhavan or Hyderabad House respectively, the preferred dress is black or white bandh gala (depending on the season) but a dhoti-kurta and a waist coat is acceptable. But most Indian guests float in casually attired lounge suits. George Fernandes, in kurta-pyjama, of course stands out as a universal symbol against formal wear. Relating formal wear to India’s civilisation is a tricky proposition. First, every region and sub-region has it’s own formal attire. Second, even in a pan Indian sense, dressing -up for a meal is not particularly indigenous tradition. A tuxedo and a cummerbund would make it impossible to sit cross legged in the òf40órasoi or even in a marriagehall.

But this generalisation too will not bear scrutiny. Because princely India did leave behind an elaborate tradition of sartorial forms of which Jodhpur, bandh-gala and a well cut sherwani are the most elegant.

Historically, types of formal attire owe their origin to some form of imperial authority. Thus Japanese or Korean gear has traces of Chinese traditions of tailoring. In 16th century Europe, Spain was the dominant imperial power and dictated European feudal fashions. Britain became the dominant imperial power in the 19th century. The three-piece suit tailored in 1850’s for casual wear has, over a period of time, acquired the status of a business suit.

It is not clear when black-tie became the universal, formal wear for the West, but cummerbund is probably derived from Britain’s military interaction with the East because cummerbund is the Persian for a "band around the waist." Iranians insist that the black-tie and even the ordinary tie, is actually a Christian symbol derived from a sign of the cross. Thus the post Shah Iranians wear a stiff collar around the neck but no tie. Turkey’s Mustafa Kemal Pasha dismissed the Iranian interpretation: in fact he declared the Turkish Fez as illegal and black tie the official formal wear.

The absence of any centralised imperial authority in India, led to the evolution of formal wear sectorally, regionwise. These regional forms were dictated by the tropical climate which could be exceedingly warm and sultry. A common element from Kanyakumari up to the lower reaches of the cooler mountains appears to have been the unstitched dhoti. The dhoti was functional, not devoid of elegance, was a symbol of Brahminical austerity.

The consolidation of Mughal and princely India spawned a wide range of courtly wear from which the Sherwani, Jodhpur bandh-gala and Angarkha are derived. A pity that the Angarkha, particularly suited to Indian summers when stitched from chikan, has gone out of fashion. In my view it was the most elegant formal wear derived, like much else in Avadh, from a rich blending of Hindu-Muslim sartorial traditions.

I suppose in a country as diverse as India, it is just as well that there is no insistence on an arbitrary national dress, the frenzied response to the invitation from the White House notwithstanding. The burden of civilisational continuity we have left to our women. Where else in the world would you find the design, motif, colour, indeed, the spectacle of the sari which envelops India like an ancient scroll?

The spectacle of the sari envelops India like a scroll