The Father Of All Styles

Today I went shopping.


I don’t know why, but I recently developed a fascination for jackets. It’s not that Manipur has a lot of malls and department stores. This small town in an obscure but quaint part of India is actually the “second-hand-clothes-capital-of-the-world” (I bet you don’t know that, do you?) And so to go on a shopping spree for jackets with names like Dolce and Gabbana, Polo, Ralph Lauren, head, etc., is like effing unbelievable! And tribes people don’t know who the heck Hillfiger is! Hillfiggeritout!


To my advantage, I searched store after store for the jacket which would help me survive winter here in Manipur. My staff was pushing into my arms fugly (yes fucking ugly!) color combination fleece jackets and bizarre patterns which would make Pinocchio look tame in his ensemble. One of the memorable ones were the DKNY tiger pattern wool coat and striped untagged hooded wind breaker twice my size. They, of course laughed when I said I don’t want to look like a zebra when I walk down the streets. And although I have the image of a fashionista here, I can’t be caught wearing that – even if it’s a costume party.


So I found this yellow Hilfiger jacket (yellow is good) with a little hole on the back. It was invisible to the discerning eye, but my staff was saying “NO”. (You know how the Indians would rock there head from side to side when they mean yes and a bit faster movement than that when they mean no.) So I tried to explain that it is okay if it has a hole because nobody can see it anyway.


Much to my chagrin, he thrusted into my arms this back fleece coat, which, on a good day I would consider. But since I was in an uppity mood, I wanted to have a brighter and more fun color. After all, the weather in Manipur has become cold and depressing of late.


“Black and blue for boys. Bright colors for girls” he said.


“Why?” I asked. “I have yellow, red and even pink shirts.”


“Not good.”


He had that look like he was God trying to punish me because he caught me masturbating.


“It is not nice here” he added.


I was about to relent when he bent over to pick up another coat. Then POW! I saw his underwear peaking through his trousers! He was wearing a neon orange under wear! Not the Bench-type-orange, but the Hari-Krishna-orange! I love orange (I think I look nice in orange) but this guy got me going on a sexist-color-thing. The bloody bugger bashed me on his color gender biases and he, himself, is wearing a shocking orange!


“You hypocrite! I saw you are wearing a bright colored under wear! And you dare tell me not to wear anything bright?”


He gave me a smile and said, “Color is good for your willy. Good production of sperm. Very auspicious for the genitals.”


I swear I stood there with my mouth agape for 10 minutes. I knew I couldn't give a witty retort to that!


I bought both, by the way, just to appease my vanity and be culturally sensitive.
I haven’t started wearing neon-orange under wear though.