The path to a salwar kameez

There's a shop just down the road from my house called SK Fabrics. I have often looked longingly through the window, but have never dared go in.

It sells fabrics, obviously enough, many of them fabulously embroidered and otherwise exotic. The problem is that I don't know what to do with fabrics. I have friends who know how to make clothes, curtains, whatever, can follow patterns, use sewing machines. I am not such a person. And I have felt doubly daunted because it's an Asian shop and is frequented by elegantly dressed Asian women buying fabric, it always seems, with unattainable know-how and confidence.

But today this all changed. My friend K is several months pregnant and summer is coming. She wanted a salwar kameez, but didn't have a clue how to make one happen, and was also too nervous to go in to SK Fabrics on her own.

So, having worked up to it via Bombay Emporium (ready-made Indian clothes, quite accessible as it also sells the kind of long floaty cotton skirts any self-respecting seventies child has found herself in at some stage in her life), we ventured into the world of fabric.

And I am very glad there were two of us. It was totally impenetrable at first -- what do you wear with what? How much do you need? Do they sell patterns? After a while four women came in together and began animatedly comparing different rolls of material in a language we didn't understand. K very bravely asked two of them if they knew anyone who could make her up a salwar kameez. Because we don't have a pattern, I added.

Oh no, there are no patterns, they said. Let me ask my sister over there, one of them added. Thanks, we said. And then for a good ten minutes we hung around, feeling increasingly bemused as the four women and the shopkeeper pulled out more and more rolls and talked and talked and talked and didn't give us another glance.

When we had looked at every single roll in the shop and were beginning to wonder if we should just sneak out, the shopkeeper asked us what we wanted. We're just, um, waiting for some advice from these ladies, I said. OH! they said and it all went off again for a while. Ask him! they told us, and sure enough, it turns out the shopkeeper knows a woman who will do it.

Then K tells him which fabric she likes, and he tells her this roll is for the shirt, this is for the trousers, and this is for the scarf. Okay, she says, but I don't think I need a scarf. He gives her a hard look and cuts her fabric for her shirt, her trousers and her scarf. He asks her some questions about neckline and sleeve length preferences, how tall she is and what size she is, and it's a done deal. After some prompting, he adds the fact that she's pregnant to the instruction. (Surely this is relevant when you are making clothes?).

It will be ready in two weeks. I can't wait to see it.

It feels like a whole new world has opened. I am no longer scared of SK Fabrics. I might even have a salwar kameez of my own one day.

joella