I have fond memories of the Halloween party we had in the States, when us exchange students were housed in a funeral home for the night (I mean for real, spooky!) and ever since (and probably before too) I've liked costume parties. Which probably explains some of my hobbies, like the Fantasy Feast stuff. Escaping from the boring every day life. Heh.
Anyways, my dress for last night was a real Indian sari and I loved it. I want one for myself too, as the sari I was wearing is actually Satu's souvenir from Goa (a million thanks for borrowing it to me, hon!).
It's certainly a very feminine thing to wrap oneself up in several metres of pretty fabric and my goodness, even with my less than perfect skills of wrapping it, it looked elegant. Very beautiful. I've spent quite a lot of time lately surfing the various sites selling saris on the net, and especially some of the bridal saris are stunning. (Well, I'm probably not likely to be wearing a sari on my wedding day, if such will come in the distant future, but I sure love the idea of having such a beautiful piece of clothing in any case.)
All my enthusiasm about saris resulted in an interesting description of me, by a friend (somewhat tipsy friend, that is) of mine. He happens to know I also love big cars, like the Audi Q7 and he pondered how this combination of wanting to have several metres of gloriously embroidered silk around me, preferably while driving a Q7, makes me "a high class woman". You can imagine I giggled at that. (But at the same time the image seems very enticing, heh.)
The Indian version of me. I should've arranged the pallu a bit better for the picture (pallu is the end part of the sari, the part that comes over the shoulder), but you get the idea. Seems that it requires a bit of practice to learn how to keep the folds of fabric in order...
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