Rants: Speculations on the life of a clotheshorse

As always, I'm hoping to channel all that pent up frustration into some world-class humor and wit. Here goes:D 

Since this is a personal account, I have to give the necessary background even if it be perfunctory. 

I have never been a clotheshorse. My choice of clothing has always been decided primarily by comfort and secondarily by its ease of procurement(three cheers to online shopping!). Therefore, after those initial few skirmishes with tailors, I gave up on stitched clothes altogether. By the way, I'm not exaggerating when I say this. One of my first experiences goes thus: 

There was a tailor to whom I gave a dress material and asked him to stitch a salwar. A chudidar/salwar is one of those Indian garments where you have a top half of clothing(kurta) and a bottom half(chudidar/salwar). So the cloth for the top half had floral patterns, and the bottom half was entirely striped. Now this bloke was extremely creative. So creative that I wouldn't be wrong in calling him avant-garde. He belongs with the likes of those painters who create works of (in)famous abstract art. He decided that this was way too mainstream for him. He interchanged the material, and I ended up with a zebra lookalike kurta and a floral bottom. Hideous is the word that comes to mind, but even that is a euphemism. 

Horrified by his creation, my Mom asked him, "Isn't this obvious? How could you exchange them?" 

He shrugged in artistic unconcern and told her: "Well, you never told me which was which." :D

Since then, I have always made it a habit to point at the cloth and say as if to a three-year old:"This is for the top. This is for the pant." Most tailors get irate and roll their eyes at me: "Yeah, I can see that." And I mentally think, "Well, there was a guy who couldn't see. I'd rather patronize you than end up with another paid-for disaster."

Anyway, like I said, I have managed to stay away from tailors as much as possible until quite recently, when necessity dictated that I visit one. And that dredged up from memory all the reasons why I hated all of it.

This time, I had entrusted the tailor with a saree and a blouse. This was an excruciating ordeal which started out with picking out a design for the blouse. A dozen design brochures were shoved under my nose "Select a pattern, Ma'am." It felt like worse than an exam I hadn't prepared for. Page after page of garishly hued confusion. Maybe the point of throwing books at customers is so that they turn helplessly to the tailor and say Do as you see fit. This is a nightmare. Because that's exactly how it felt. But I leafed through the pages wearily till I found something subtle and classy. This one, I said, in a mixture of exultation and relief. He quickly noted it down, took measurements and handed me a receipt with a flourish. The date said next Sunday. That wasn't so bad, I mused. Little did I know what awaited me.

The week passed by in a blur and I totally forgot about the tailor. A friend asked me if I had called and inquired. But it's still Friday. He said Sunday, right? 

She tutted in disbelief at my naviete. That's not how it works. You should call everyday and ask for the status. More like goad. Act as if your life depends on the blouse. If you do that, then you might probably get it within a couple of days of the said date. Else..she trailed off darkly.

I took her advice and called him up. Sure it will be ready on Sunday morning, was the reply I got. Fool that I was, I sighed in relief and moved on to other things. On Saturday evening, I got a call from said tailor. Wow, he must have finished it earlier, was the first thought that came to my mind.

I could not have been more wrong.

Ma'am, the design that you selected,....

Yeah, what about it?

I am not able to find it...

What?

Yes, there has been some confusion...

Can you come here and choose the design again?

No, I cannot. Didn't you note down the page number?

Ma'am, can you just describe how it looked? I will search for it and find it.

*mental epiphany: This means he hasn't even started it yet. Aghast.*

Followed by a racking of brains to visualize the pattern I'd selected...It had been a week, and my working set of memory doesn't span beyond two days from the present. I finally remembered a few details and told him.

He started sending me pictures over whatsapp, to confirm which was the right one. I scrolled through dozens of images and found that none of them were what I'd chosen. I struggled to remember some other detail that I could use to filter out this endless list, and emerged victorious.

The color was blue. Send me only those designs in blue. I told him.

After an endless stream of images, I finally found the one I'd picked and sent it back to him.

I asked wearily, How long now?

2-3 days, he said. I was beginning to understand the parlance now. 2-3 days meant a week. Today meant 2-3 days. A week meant a month.

How could someone call you one day before the promised date and tell you that he had forgotten the pattern? Well, you know who. A tailor.

After a week, he called to say that it was ready. I came home and drew it out of the cover with utmost trepidation. Thank heavens! He had gotten the design right.

And then, I tried it on. Only to realize that he hadn't taken into account anything I had said while stitching. Long sleeves I had said, and I remember the measurement being upto my elbow. Sadly, that somehow translated into half my forearm and barely at that. Other atrocities that I will not mention in this article.

If you are going to stitch it according to your whims and fancies, then why bother taking measurements and asking me how I want it?

When I asked this, he told me in a condescendingly cool and unperturbed manner: This is how blouses are made, Ma'am. It will look good only if it is made this way.

To say that I was annoyed is a huge understatement. I swore to write this up, because verbal vendetta is all I can seek :P

Dear Readers, 

Consider these the basic tenets of tailoring. You have been warned! :D

• A tailor(henceforth referred to as subject matter expert on stitching) shall never deliver anything on time.
• Tailoring charges will either equal or exceed that of the cloth cost. Expertise doesn't come cheap you see!
• Any inputs you shall have given will be overriden by that of the subject matter expert 
• The expert will treat the material you entrust to him akin to a guinea pig i.e he shall freely experiment on it, at your cost.
• In case of any disputes, the expert's opinion is final and shall prevail.

P.S: The title is basically what I wonder. What would lives of these people be like? Either they have really good tailors(where can I find one of those?) , or half their life would be spent in warfare.