Sari fail.

In which I experience more of Indian culture without actual reference other than the internet, and embarass myself voluntarily on the internet.

I bought my first sari on Friday. I had debated over various styles and had visited numerous sari shops locally, and finally decided on one I found on the internet (because I don’t have to talk to anybody when I shop there). It is lovely. It is Bengali. It is green. It is cotton. I completely missed the fact that it came to me starched.

I did not get any pictures of my first sari wrapping attempt, as it was abysmal (not as bad as I’d imagined, but pretty awful). I have since hand-washed the sari and it is hanging to dry over the shower curtain rod. I think it still has starch in it. It should be easier to work with now (previously it was like trying to clothe myself in wrapping paper – I couldn’t get the pleats to lay right and the back was all bunchy and it was crinkly and itchy and weird).

Other thing accomplished this weekend: ordered pani puri with little to no embarassment, though I’ve been obsessing over my non-existent line-jumping since then. And also? Pani puri is awesome, if impossible to eat in a moving vehicle.

(Extra also? It feels weird to be announcing these things to the general internet, when I expect that the things I am doing are altogether mundane. How weird must it be to stumble on this? Do people in other countries write similar things about America? I overthing everything, of course. But it still feels weird to announce, “Pani Puri is awesome.” I didn’t Twitter it, at least.)

Enough of that.

Socks of Eternity are still eternal. I have not had to put them back on the needles in some time, though. The ChickenGoddess has started an excellent lace shawl that I would also like to knit at some point. She offered to help me with it, but I declined in favor of finishing the lace shawl I did two rows on way back when (*ahem* last year). As she has since discovered that the pattern is confusing and has had to rip out her work, I am glad I waited. It’s gorgeous, but I have a short attention span when it comes to lace (except for socks and hats), and I think it might have made me cry. Or throw things.

And so in lieu of knitting, I give you this (when I was 13, I so would have had a crush on this guy):

About HappyGoth

By day, I'm a graphic designer. By night, I'm a knitter. I'm doing my part to keep Hotlanta stylish. I imagine that if you don't already understand the title of the blog, you're probably confused and perhaps slightly annoyed, but never fear - I do have a reason (and it's a good one). Having gone to hear Stephanie Pearl McPhee, and then having been inspired to blog about knitting, I found myself wondering what to call the blog. I recalled a conversation I had with Mouse and the Chicken Goddess about why it is a Bad Idea to anger knitters - this conversation was following SPM, aka the Yarn Harlot telling the assembled throng about Those Who Do Not Understand Knitting and Therefore Belittle It Much to the Chagrin of Others, or TWDNUKTBMCO, which is not the acronym she used but is the one I'm using because I forgot hers - that is, we are numerous and we all have very pointy sticks, easily transforming into an angry mob. Therefore, knitters = angry mob.
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4 Responses to Sari fail.

  1. HappyGoth says:

    I have contemplated purchasing one. I own a lehnga set, but then felt lazy and am glad that I bought a sari, as the sense of accomplishment that comes with wrapping it more-or-less-properly is gigantic. I will probably buy many kurtas in the future (I am well on the way to becoming That Girl, I fear).

    I dye my hair black, but I am white as death (no, really – death). Still, it didn’t look half bad. Woohoo!

  2. Heh. You know… a salwar kameez is a lot less labor-intensive. There are some really nice ones on eBay.

    Ask me how I know, and bear in mind that I’m blonde and have even less chance of ever passing than you do.

  3. HappyGoth says:


    I have no idea. All I know was that to my American taste buds (which have been somewhat acclimatized to spicy things), the pani puri was only a little more spicy than I liked, and came with this cup of soupy delicious mint cilantro sauce, and I ate it all with my fingers sitting in a friend’s car. It was crunchy and unlike anything I’ve eaten before. I will be eating it on a weekly basis from here on out (if I can manage it; maybe I’ll try a different variety of puri next time).

    I will eventually make it to India to eat official versions of all the tasty foods I’m sampling here (once my Hindi has progressed beyond “Mera bhaii biimaar nehi hai” and “Main vidhyaarthii nehi hoon,” both of which are not at all useful, unless I travel with my brother or a group of college students).

    As long as I don’t offend anybody with (a) my writing or (b) my sari wrapping, I’m happy.

    I’ll post sari photos once I get to a point where I don’t feel like a crumpled mess (I’ve made some progress!) 🙂

  4. Laura,

    hahahahaha….your post is amusing as it is honest.

    I however wonder if the ‘sanitised’ pani-puri they give in America is as tasty as you get here.

    To answer your question whether people elsewhere write such things about America..well, if you ask me, you write good and amusing..and if it pleases you, as looks obvious, then that suffices your purpose. I’m sure it amuses few others around too 🙂

    Oye, put some pictures of yours in sari 🙂


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