The tailoring outfit I went to was well-known, but would they agree to alter the clothes a second time? That was my big question. Gathering my courage from the deepest depths, I went to the tailor with my son. Surprisingly, after hearing my woeful story of fluctuating health, they agreed to make the necessary adjustments. Fresh measurements were taken, and I returned home feeling relaxed and happy, anticipating my well-fitting pants and shirts.

On the due date, the tailor called. With a jaunty step, I picked up the phone, only to be told, “Sorry, Sir, the pants cannot be altered. By reducing the hip size, the pockets are getting misplaced. We can, however, alter the shirts.” Now, I found myself in deep contemplation: should I have new pants stitched, or should I buy some ready-mades? But what if I put on weight again? This constant tummy-in and tummy-out business has messed with my mind as much as it has my clothes.

My thoughts drifted back to the days when even elderly men used to wear pants with braces. Was that what they were called? They were so convenient—never harsh on the misbehaving midriff. The pants were neither too tight nor too loose, hanging comfortably with the help of the braces, making even the weight of the pants unnoticeable. So cozy.

Why not try braces? The problem was that my waist had shrunk by nearly two inches, and with braces, the pants would hang precariously, swaying as I walked. The tailor also refused to stitch braces, advising me instead to buy ready-made ones. So, here I am, stuck with this complicated decision still pending.

This is when the traditional men’s clothing of Tamil Nadu, the “veshti” or “dhoti,” keeps calling to me. A true blessing for those of us who perpetually perspire, it’s simply wrapped around the waist. Learn the technique to keep it from falling, and you’re set. Airy, free-moving, lightweight, and inexpensive. As for the shirt, who cares? Anything works—half-sleeved, full-sleeved, jibbas, or even angavasthrams. So, for local outings and even some doctor visits, I’ve started embracing this attire. The only nagging question is, what do I do if I go to the USA?

This takes me back to my recent visit. I mentioned earlier how my pants and shirts had outgrown me, and during that time, my sons bought me lots of track pants, night pants, and T-shirts. That became my wardrobe for the entire visit. Whether going to restaurants, temples, shopping, or even Hawaii—aside from a couple of days when I wore the dreaded half-pants—I lived in those comfortable clothes. Once, I even wore a night pant to a dentist’s appointment for tooth extraction (though it was my wallet that was truly extracted). But the fact is, no one noticed or cared about what I was wearing. The mere fact that I was dressed was probably all that mattered!

Will I ever escape these sartorial suffocations during my lifetime? Any solutions out there?

Continued in 99. Pristine or Primitive - Part 1