This post was in response to a reader request on tumblr. Its fairly basic and is confined mainly to the 19th and 20th century but does cover some ground. Here goes! Though the “set-mundu” consisting of two pieces of cloth is considered the traditional attire in Kerala, in practice its fairly common to see the lower half i.e. mundu alone in many 20th century photographs. This is usually worn with a jacket like blouse or sometimes a saree blouse as in the 1965 film Chemmeen.  Typically the mundu is a woven cloth of cream or off white with a border. While the border can be a simple coloured band, the festive version has a woven gold border and is called kasavu. You can see the kasavu mundu worn with a blouse on three of the women in this photograph of the Travancore sisters and others. Of the three sisters in the middle, Lalitha on the left wears a neriyath (the upper part) as part of a half-saree like ensemble. Ragini wears a mundu and velvet jacket and Padmini on the right wears a half-sari that is common in Tamil Nadu (in the 50s this was usually a silk skirt, a georgette upper part and an embroidered blouse). Photograph circa 1954 courtesy Betsy Woodman. L to R Ambika, Lalitha, Chandran, Ragini, Betsy’s dad, Padmini, Sukumari.

Kerala Costumes, the variations over the decades:
Pic 1: The mundum neriyathum as worn in the 19th century (see also Ravi Varma’s painting of the mother of Sethu Lakshmi Bayi)
Pic 2: The addition of a blouse and in this case also a lacy cape on Sethu Lakshmi Bayi (these additions to local costumes were common in India in the late 19th/early 20th century, a clearer picture of the blouse here).
Pic 3: Karthika Thirunal wearing a mundum neriyathum with the upper part draped like the six yard saree and worn with a sleeveless blouse (1934). Like many a young royal of the 1930s, the Princess was quite stylish.
Pic 4: Syrian Christian girls wearing mundu with kuppayam (blouse or jacket).
Pic 5: Sethu Parvati Bayi as a young girl wearing the neriyathu (the upper wrap) with a full skirt and blouse (like a lehenga choli).
Pic 6: Miss Kumari wears a fitted saree blouse with the mundu in the 1950s (still from Neelakuyil (1954).
Pic 7: Miss Kumari again, this time in Aniyathi (1954), wearing the mundum neriyathum with a fitted saree blouse characteristic of the 1950s.
Pic 8: Karthika Thirunal, her brother the Maharaja of Travancore and her mother Paravti Bayi in a 1933 portrait, the six yard modern saris and styling is akin to that of many other Indian portraits of the period.
Pic 9: Aranmula Ponnamma in Yachakan (1951). While the mundum neriyathum with the upper portion (neriyathu) draped in the fashion of the six yard sari and the blouse are seen in the 1950s, many films of the period also feature the six yard sari which was common in India by this decade.

In some cases, the Kerala weave can be a six yard saree.

Notes: For royal costumes in Kerala, please go to this link. This link is a tumblr illustration of the mundum neriyathum, but I can’t locate the source.

….their black glossy hair, tied in a knot in the middle of the head, is copiously anointed with cocoa-nut oil, and perfumed with the essence of sandal, mogrees and champas; their ears, loaded with rings and heavy jewels, reach almost to their shoulders, this is esteemed a beauty;…..they are adorned with a profusion of gold and silver chains for necklaces, mixed with strings of Venetian and other gold coins; they have also heavy bangles or bracelets,….their skin is softened by aromatic oils,…Oriental Memoirs, A Narrative of Seventeen Years Residence in India, James Forbes (1813).  She has a regular profile, pure features and magnificent large eyes, in fact all the beauty of her race. In accordance with the tradition of the Nayer family her jet black hair is wound round her forehead. Pierre Loti on the Travancore Maharani (1903).

In the 19th century earlobes amongst women in Kerala were sometimes elongated, I think so that a large “thoda” could be worn as in pic 1 (see also X). Some of the jewellery worn in Kerala can be seen in pics 3 and 4 (Source). In general, like in many parts of India, a large amount of jewellery was worn (though the Rev Satthianadan remarks that Tamil women could learn from their Travancore counterparts and go easy on the jewellery:)).  Hair wound into a round coil (pic 2) and placed in the centre or the side is very Kerala (in fact the style is known as a Malayala hair bun as in this 1950s description of hairstyles). This could then be decorated with flowers or jewels. PS: There is some serious hair envy on the part of travellers visiting Travancore, almost all accounts are whoa this is glorious hair!

A number of photographs discussed so far are of Nair costumes.  For the sake of completion, this post includes the clothing of the Mappila (pic 1) and Syrian Christians/Christians (pic 2, also see here and here). I had done an earlier post on the Jews of Kerala (see also here). Almost all costumes do build on the mundu or lower garment with the addition of the head cover amongst Muslims in Kerala. The practice of wearing a kuppayam or chatta (jacket/blouse) was restricted to the Christians, Muslims and Jews in Kerala before it became common for everyone in the state in the 19th century (see also the Channar revolt). Kerala also has a number of small tribal communities (e.g. the Kādir, the girl here has a decorative comb and large earrings, the costume appears to be akin to the short sari). And there is a bit of indigenisation of the skirt-blouse in Kerala as in pic 4 (1973 via photodivision). See also the costumes of the Oppana and Margam Kali.

Let’s turn to some period drama. The stills above are from Celluloid, a biopic on JC Daniel who made the first Malayalam movie. Pic 1 is of the actors playing the film-maker and his wife (Prithivaraj and Mamta Mohandas). Pics 2 and 3 are of the actress Chandni playing PK Rosy. The movie is set in the 1920s.  It’s difficult to say how authentic the costuming of the film is without viewing it but the few stills suggest a period later than the 1920s.

And lastly flowers and literature.

Wherever you turn your eyes Nothing but trees in floral splendour Even a gentle breeze Would let loose a rain of flowers. Changampuzha Krishna Pillai (translation from the chapter on Ramanan,  Changampuzha by S. Guptan Nair).

The flowers of Cassia Fistula aka Golden Shower Tree (kanikonna in Malayalam) are Kerala’s state flower. They occur a good deal in Malayalam literature and are also an important part of Vishu celebrations. Pic 1: Painting by a school student exhibited at the Trivandrum museum. Pic 2: Woman plucking kanikonna flowers in Kerala.

When you think of Muslim influenced fashion in India you think of anarkalis, gauzy dupattas, tight churidars, a North Indian style that has a tremendous grip on the popular imagination not least because of Hindi movies. While the Mughals with their jama/paijama/dupatta ensembles did influence the courts of India, in reality there is a good amount of diversity with local influences intermingling with northern as well as middle eastern influences depending upon faith and denomination. Often across communities the commonality is only in head covering.

Let’s start with the Bohras and their distinctive “quami libas” (loosely community dress).

Scenes from a Bohra Wedding, 1940s.

Bohra* Muslim clothing is quite distinctive and rich in colour and decoration, the latter of which is varied and includes laces, trimmings, zari, embroidery etc. I have been meaning to do a post forever on them but never found the right images.  Then a friend – Sakina Pittalwala – posted these photographs of her parents wedding in the 1940s on facebook which are quite wonderful and detailed.  Many thanks for her go ahead to post the photographs on this blog!

And now for the clothes. In Sakina’s words, “The dress in question is the ‘ghaghra badan’, a combination of a long flowing skirt, a blouse and an ornately decorated (on the borders) dupatta.  This is the traditional attire among Bohras.  It is also referred to as the ‘jori’, literally meaning a combination of the 3 garments. The dupatta is usually adorned by ‘koran’ which can take a variety of forms – hand tatted lace, brocade, a combination of painting and sequins and in the case of those worn for weddings, gold and silver threads. These can be extremely expensive and often outlast the garments; they then get recycled.  When clearing my mother’s things recently, we came across some koran which must have been at least 50 years old; each one was valued at about Rs. 60,000! The koran is usually created to fit in with the colours and designs of the ghaghra and badan.  These two garments are usually made of the same fabric (though certain sub-communities among Bohras may wear a plain blouse along with a printed ghaghra).  These two may be adorned with additional lace/painting etc. – though this is usually only for those worn by brides or those in the immediate family for a wedding.“

That’s just a little sampler, if you dive into the photographs there is a lot of detail, the most distinctive of which is the bride’s tiara and matha patti.

Notes: In pic 4 the older standing girl has a paijama under her frock – you can see something similar on the girls in this personal album from Karachi. More images of costumes at the site here.

The equivalent of the burqa or hijab for Bohras is the rida, this includes the upper garment (pardi) covering the head which comes down to the waist (some examples here). The rida is a garment which is worn outside the house and like all Bohra clothing has rich colours and decoration.

The girls in today’s photograph set are in frocks (fairly common in India in the 1940s) but here is a little charmer in HK wearing a jabla-izar (tunic-pants) and decorated topi.

Please do keep in mind that these are images from a personal album and do not misuse!

*See also X, X, X.

Atiya’s relatives have an unusual approach to women’s veiling, travel, and seclusion. Rather than ‘going native’ and adopting Western dress, Atiya wears a family version of the veil, the Fyzee charshaf, which is a Turkish women’s floor-length cloak worn with a head-covering and gloves. Instead of the ‘oppressive’ veil that is such a Western obsession to this day, it is a liberating garment that can be adapted to its context, as Atiya shows by teaming it with “good walking shoes” and thickening it to keep out the cold. This modest dress enables Atiya to travel where and with whom she wants.[X]

 

Atiya Fyzee (pic 1) and her sister Nazli with the Nawab of Janjira (Pic 2).

Atiya Fyzee’s parents were Sulaymani Bohra (her uncle was Badruddin Tyabji). Given that the Fyzee girls preferred to be unveiled and were amongst the first Muslim women to study aboard, it appears that their costumes include a number of modifications (much like Jnanadanandini)-here they seem to feature a full skirt, lace blouse and a half-saree like drape (this drape as can be seen is worn in a particular way). Like Parsi, Bohra and Khoja costumes in Western India, the garments make ample use of trimmings, lace and embroidery (please note however that the costumes here are different from the Bohra ghaghra-badan above – dress codes amongst the Sulaimani Bohras were different from the Dawoodi Bohras and often very flexible mixing a number of elements, there is no equivalent of qaumi libas).

Atiya Fyzee is now pretty much a forgotten author though she was well known in her time. Apart from her travelogue she wrote several books on music, including Indian music, which also features illustrations by her husband. She is also the subject of a recent book, on the cover of which you can see the Fyzee sisters costumes.

Here are Memon and Khoja women in shirt and trousers (“kurta” and “izzar”) of green and gold or pink or yellow, with dark blue sheets used as veils, wandering along with their children dressed in all the hues of the rainbow. By-Ways of Bombay by S. M. Edwardes.

MV Dhurandhar illustrations of Memon and Khoja costumes in Western India.  Pics 1 and 2 are of Khoja ladies. Lots of trimmings. The wide paijama harks back to the early 19th century in Northern India. Pic 3 is of a Memon lady, you can see the paijama beneath but hard to say if its a sari or two pieces of cloth. There was no specific dress code for Khoja and Memon women so there is an intermingling of elements, further it is likely the above costumes are no longer the norm.

In some parts the sari or a version of it can be seen as in this photograph of a Muslim Lady and Child,  in Ongole, Andhra Pradesh. (1921, Maynard Owen Williams).  A lot of heavy jewellery (silver?) including an armband over a full sleeved blouse. I think the lady is wearing a sari. The child’s silk tunic is of a kind common at the time.

See also X, X.

The head jewellery in the above portrait seems to indicate that the lady is from the South of India, most likely the Deccan. There is a good deal of layering in the costume – I reckon this is a 19th century print. And curiously a bodice-common in South India for saris-over the open fronted tunic or jama.  Kind of indicates how the basic jama/paijama/dupatta was worn differently and accessorised differently in Islamic cultures in 18th and 19th century India.  [X].

See also Hyderabadi dress and Moplah dress.

This list is kind of incomplete, Eastern India is omitted. For one the sari is quite common. Plus not enough good images.

For very many reasons Bollywood is Indian cinema.  Now and then regional cinema makes a splash – especially at the National Awards – but for the most part the audiences are local.  You could however argue that all the interesting stuff happens in regional cinema, this was true even back in the day (I really miss the Sunday afternoon hour on DD2 which was regional cinema time). So here’s a little sampler – ideally I would have preferred to feature something other than a Tamil film from the South but here we go. Kumki (Tamil) and its heroine, Lakshmi Menon, are absolutely beautiful to look at. And I am a sucker for that weed flower jewellery. In the pics: goat weed ring and aster weed earrings. Captures from Onnum Puriyala, Kumki.

Postcard (Marathi) seems an interesting film but I can’t find very much on it and am completely uncertain about the decade it is set in. Note that the trailer seems to indicate a 1960s postmark. But the puff sleeves – and Radhika Apte seems to basically wear just these blouses outside of her dance costume – evokes the late 30s/40s.

I had done this set of posts starting on Buddha Purnima on tumblr but it’s taken me till now to collate it on WP.  In some ways posts are more coherent on WP so despite the delay here it is.  As always it is not definitive but looks at parts of the Buddha’s life via various genres of painting. As for the costumes expect a heavy reliance on Ajanta art.

The flowers of the flame trees, Which resemble parrots’ beaks, Make the ground resplendent, Like a congregation of monks Prostrate in worship at the feet Of the Buddha. [X]

For 4 May (Buddha Purnima).   Pic: Monks in Singapore. Painting at Bellanwila Rajamaha Vihara in Sri Lanka by Somabandu Vidyapathy (the murals were painted between 1990 and 1998). Buddhist temples usually have murals depicting the stages of the life of Buddha – I think this represents the marriage of Siddhartha and Yashodhara. A number of modern murals depicting Buddhist life draw on the costumes seen in Ajanta. The Great Departure of Buddha, Tempera on Paper, 1942 ( Manindra-Bhushan Gupta). This painting is evocative of miniature paintings with its detailed landscape and the pavilion with the sleeping Yashodhara and Rahul. The costumes are similar to depictions of Mauryan costumes. Yokoyama Taikan works depicting I think Sujata and the temptations of Mara. Again the costumes of the women have a lot of Ajanta/Ajanta as interpreted in the early 20th century influences.  I love the delicacy of this – Taikan visited India at one point and his influence is seen in early Bengal watercolours with a “wash technique”.

See also Roma Mukerji’s Amrapali. Yashodhara and Rahul meet the Buddha, circa 1880.  This is probably from a set made by students at the Bombay School of Art who made a number of copies of the Ajanta cave paintings between 1872 and 1885 when J. Griffiths was the Principal. The costumes therefore directly reference Ajanta art.

[Mara:] That place the sages gain is hard to reach A mere woman can’t get there.

[Soma:] What harm is it to be a woman when the mind is concentrated and the insight is clear. [X]

Tamil caption loosely translated: The two men in the background sporting a kudumi  – “We are now fashionable (or fashion has taken inspiration from us). No one dare tease us anymore.”  from Ananda Vikatan, 1962.

I also found this illustration while doing the posts and it made me laugh a little since I *might* have this woman’s hairstyle at the moment.

The blouse with a wide V and three quarters sleeves is very late 50s/early 60s.

For a lot of us in India at one time Comic = Amar Chitra Katha.

My nieces are Australian so their book cupboard is wash with princess stories, fairy stories, Peppa Pig, Horrid Henry and the like.  The Indian comics they are gifted tend to be mythological and they haven’t quite taken to them.  Given their princess obsession I decided to take a few comics on princesses but it went down like a lead balloon.

Two of the comics were Vasavadatta and Manonmani. We had a bit of a discussion on their costumes but they didn’t find it very interesting (they are 7 and 4), here the two heroines wear a knotted breast band known as the kancuka or kurpasaka.

Suddenly they have turned avid readers and the turning point was to The Magic Grove. I guess a girl with a magic garden that follows her around and does her bidding was irresistible. The red and gold costume of Aramashobha dislodged their love of the blue and white of Frozen and Cinderella for a few days.

The artists behind Amar Chitra Katha are little known but the artwork can be quite distinctive even as the costuming basics remain the same. This set is from a bound series on ancient classics and the artists for each comic are listed below. Interestingly the covers are by different artists.

Pic 1: Malati and Madhava. Illustrator: Pratap Mullick.
Pic 2: Malavika. Illustrator: PB Kavadi
pic 3: Kadambari. Illustrator: MR Fernandes
Pic 4: Nagananda. Illustrator: MN Nangare.

See also X.

Similarly the faces are strong and distinctive. And captivating. Seen above, pic 1 & 2- Parvati, Pic 3-Dharini from Malavika and 4. Sati.

The regional details are often captured in the comics. Like North & South. The Instant Wedding, Ancient Indian Style. As illustrated by Amar Chitra Katha!

From a series of posts I did the week of 13 July 2015-17 July 2015.

Saraswati painted by Hishida Shunsō [X, X]

Flute Player (1) and Esraj Player (2), Nandalal Bose.  Both were painted in 1937 and were commissioned by MK Gandhi for Indian National Congress Party meeting 1938, Haripura.

Playing the veena, January 1956.Both blouse and sari are typical of the decade.

Kesarbai Kerkar was born on 13 July in 1892. These beautiful screencaps from a piece on Kesarbai Kerkar featuring her great grand niece, Shalaka Kerkar.  Pic 1 includes a photograph of Kesarbai, probably taken in the 1910s (see also X). The song of pic 2 here.

Down South in the land of Tyagaraja, where the prevailing voices always had a chesty timbre, Lata clones sang shrieking into the night in every language. Even Bengali voices, which only a few years earlier reflected the honeyed textures of Kanan Bala, abandoned their inheritance and joined the Lata bandwagon.  Raghava Menon (1989) quoted in Cassette Culture: Popular Music and Technology in North India, Peter Manuel.

A particular kind of female voice, best embodied by the Mangeshkar sisters, held sway in India for much of the latter half of the 20th century in so far as film music  was concerned.  The voices in the 30s and 40s are much more varied (and of course actresses often sang their own songs). In the latter half of the 20th century there are a few scattered singers who have distinctive voices but whose output was limited at least by way of film songs.

Some of the early singers are documented at womenonrecord.

In the photoset 1) The Karnataki sisters, Amirbai and Gauharbai 2)  singer and flautist M. Saraswathi 3) Geeta Dutt (well known but not as prolific as the Mangeshkar sisters 4) Kamala Sista and Sharda 5) Chhaya Ganguli.

As always the clothes and styling embody the decade 1) 1930s 2) 1940s 3) 1950s 4) 1960s 5) late 1970s/early 1980s.

Filmy costumes for mythological/historical figures in Raghuvir Mulgaokar’s 1953 paintings/calendar art.

Pic 1: Mastani  – this outfit aka a kameez that has a tight fitted bodice and skirt and the jhoomar for the hair is both particular to films and also late 19th century.
Pic 2 (below pic 1): Padmini – kind of Hindi film does Rajasthani costumes.
Pic 3: Devayani – a flowing dress with a girdle (or sometimes a sari) is often used to depict mythological figures.

The daughters of the Diwan of Travancore in 1868. They appear to be Bala, Neena, Sundara, Sati?. The Diwan was a Maharashtrian from Thanjavur, the sari and ornaments are similar to that seen in Maharashtra and South India in the late 19th century (in fact these styles persisted well into the 20th century). Except for Sundara in pic 3 – wearing what looks like the half saree – they all appear to be wearing nine yard sarees. The colour of the saree in three of the pics is akin to what in Tamil is called araku.  At least in pic 2, the sari end is secured to the body at the shoulder by a brooch as here.

Source.

Jamnabai in 1875-6. (For Jamnabai see here).  Apart from the blouse which is a Victorian influenced style, the sari and anklets and other elements are also seen in the 1911 portrait of Chimnabai who was her daughter-in-law.

Suniti Devi, Maharani of Cooch Behar (also the grandmother of Gayatri Devi) in 1887. The sari is worn Bengali style, the blouse cannot be seen but is possibly the fuller versions worn in this period. You can see a bit of the high collar (and the jewels) in the close up.  Suniti Devi has a quiet elegance and is probably the grande-dame of House of Cooch-Behar aka Ladies who knew how to dress well.

The Maharani of Mysore, 1900.

Apart from the characteristic way of pleating the lower half of the sari, note the belt and also the way the pallu is pinned to the body of the sari over the shoulder (this is the first time I have seen this arrangement).

‘Rubbish, rubbish!’ she exclaimed when she saw them, and picked out over 200 superb saris for her tomboy daughter, in plain and patterned chiffon, with and without borders, some hand-embroidered, others appliques, some embroidered in gold and others of simple, heavy silks.

‘Ayesha, I am afraid, doesn’t wear her sari half as well as her mother,’ said a family friend. speculating that Ayesha always stood in her adored mother’s shadow, defining her self against Indira at the same time as fearing she could not live up to her example. Maharanis, Lucy Moore.

More often than not if you think of a royal style icon, Gayatri Devi is the name that comes to mind. Her style is to some extent derived from her mother, Indira Devi. Indira Devi’s initial 1910s look as a young woman (on her way to a wedding that did not take place, Edwardian style, wedding in London) gave way to a more sophisticated look in the 20s and 30s (X, X, X, X) which employs a lot of chiffon sarees and you can see her influence on her daughter. She didn’t entirely discard the nine yard sari (she was the daughter of Chimnabai)  it appears in paintings and photographs.

Today’s pic from A Year with the Gaekwar of Baroda (1911), the book has a dedication to her. The sari is probably a Chanderi/Maheshwari sari.

Unidentified Maratha Princess, 1930s. The saree is worn in the nine yard style (nauvari) but appears to be a sequinned/embroidered chiffon with a stitched border characteristic of the decade.  Though the gold butis are kind of traditional. Like in this pic, thick anklets, but worn with a mojri kind of shoe.

अब मेरी बेटी का मामला है मेरी कोख में जन्म लेने वाली मैत्रेयी का। मैं इसको उस खड्ड में नहीं गिरने दूंगी, जिसमें गिरकर औरत जीवन-भर निकलने को छटपटाती रहती है और एक दिन खत्म हो जाती है।

Now it is a matter of my daughter, of Maitreyi born from my womb. I won’t let her fall into that pit into which women fall and spend the rest of their lives yearning to escape and then one day they are no more. [X]

Kasturi Kundal Base* is an autobiographical novel by Maitreyi Pushpa that appears to deal a bit with her mother’s life and her early life in Bundelkhand. The still is from the TV series of the same name.

Autobiographies by women in Hindi are thin on the ground. Exceptions include Maitreyi Pushpa’s work (her other autobio is गुडि़या भीतर गुडि़या (Russian Doll)). One of her works, Alma Kabutari, has been translated into English.

The costume here with a plam leaf woven crown is likely Bundelkhand but I haven’t been able to corroborate this (though the palm leaf crown is cited in marriage customs in Central India).

*Title from a Kabir doha.

Source for Rangoli terms-X.  Pic Source – X. (~1890s, click for larger view).

Making an Alpana, Santiniketan, 1954.

Life Magazine, 7 February 1955.

From what I know, the use of rice flour or paste is intentional and is meant as a meal for insects, in particular ants. Hence too the daily application and not just on holidays – though holidays usually result in elaborate decorations.

Untitled, B. Prabha.

At the age of 54, she took a post as a visiting professor at India’s Tagore International University and was charmed by India. She continued to visit India occasionally thereafter, and produced works incorporating motifs based on India’s scenery, landscapes, temples and so on.

Rangoli/Kolam in Akino Fuku’s paintings.

[Pic 1: Morning Prayer, 1988]

To end a personal post. My cousin and I making a kolam. The design is a simple version of kolams based on the parijat flower.

This struck me as a bit faded for the mid 90s and then I realised its 20 years since the mid 90s. Like truly retro:).

The salwar-kurta is a handloom ‘set’ – my mother bought it on a Chennai visit.

We are in autumn but it remains very warm.  Reading autumn poetry is about the only one to keep one’s cool.

The skies, growing gradually peaceful,
flow like long rivers across heaven,
with sandbanks formed of the white clouds
and scattered flights of softly crying cranes;
rivers which fill at night with waterlily stars.

Vishakhadatta on Sharad ritu (autumn) in Mudrarakshasa.  Autumn arrives in India post monsoon so the feeling and emotion in many poems is quieter. And full of bird imagery.  Vyjayanthimala as a waterlily is a bit of conceit though my mother once told me this particular part of Nagin (1954) was considered to be full of a beauty never seen before.

Vyjayanthimala gifs thanks to @zamaanapatsi-bollyfan

Detail of painting (1760-65) from X.

The garba around our parts has been subdued, perhaps they will ratchet up the enthusiasm (and noise ) in the weekend.

While in Singapore I found this postcard of a textile piece showing dandiya dancers in the 15th century. Made for the Indonesian market (see also X), you can see the decorated sticks in the hands of the dancers (click for larger view).

There are three designs of printed cottons, one for the kaccha or dhoti type garment below, one for the waist wrap knotted over the dhoti and one for the fitted long sleeved bodice.

And here is a rasamandala aka the circle dance of Krishna and the gopis. Jaipur, 1750. Note the full skirts and voluminous upper drape of the 18th century

A fuller version of the painting here.

Pic Source.

October is Marigold.

And indeed that first line holds true for Navaratri when the markets in parts of India are full of marigolds.

And marigolds as a recurring motif symbolising love had their own starring turn on Monsoon Wedding.

And now I am going to take some time out for marigold appreciation. See you in a bit.

A bit late but Happy New Year everyone!

Lux calendar for 1954 with Suraiya featured for January/February.

A Painting from a Barahmasa series – The month of Magha (January/ February), Garhwal, 1780-90.

Source.

While doing posts on contemporary regional Indian period movies, I made a rough list of Indian period films. These are listed below. Some are historicals but the bulk fall into the 19th and 20th century.  The list is fairly rough so feel free to add more, especially if they are in languages other than Hindi. Does not include the staple of Indian cinema for long aka mythologicals or films based on the epics. For South Indian mythologicals do check out cinemachaat – they have a number of reviews.

A look at a few contemporary period dramas in regional cinema, almost all are set in the 20th century.

मी वेगळी आहे विन्या (I am different, Vinya). 

The staging of a play in Ravi Jadhav’s short, Mitraa, during which Sumitra realises she is attracted to Nama. The film is based on Vijay Tendulkar’s 1981 play Mitrachi Goshta (A Friend’s Story) which is set in the 1940s and deals with a lesbian relationship.

The short is part of a film comprising 4 shorts based on poems, Bioscope.

Stills from Shala (School). This Marathi film that won a National Award for Best Marathi Film is set in a school in small town Maharashtra in the 1970s around the time of the Emergency. On point shirts for the young boy, frocks, plaits, flowers. The teacher in still 1 is a bit 60s but was probably still modern for the milieu.

Source. Book Review.

Timepass, a Marathi movie set in the 1990s, features a few “tapori” fashions of the time like cutoff, frayed sleeves, singlets, jeans with patches and bright colours. And for it’s heroine the frilly dress, salwar-set and the traditional sari ensemble for the “sarvajanik”.

And books :). The book titles are Pratiksha (Wait) and Fati Patang (Torn Kite).

We were meticulous. The hairstyles, the fabric they used in their clothes, the jewellery, the language… we wanted to get everything right. [X]

Subramaniapuram is set in 1980s Tamil Nadu.  The plain nylon davanis with matched blouses, the gold chain and pendant, the wide collar shirts and the facial fuzz, all very much of the time.

See also okadhalkanmani’s gif sets of the film.

Pic 1: NTR and Jamuna in Bhoo Kailas (1958).

Pic 2: Siddharth and Vedhika in Kavviya Thalaivan (2014) which is set in the world of an early 20th century Tamil drama company.  Such drama companies would often perform mythological/historical plays.

X and X.

1980. Kerala. Summer. A world with bell bottoms, sideburns, landmaster taxis, romantic radio songs… 

Also 1970s/80s saris. And hair oil.  Stills from Manjadikuru, set in the Kerala of the 1980s.

I might have had that dress and hairband as a kid…..

In the stills: Sridevika, Sidharth, Vyjayanthi, Firoz, Sindhu Menon and Rijosh (X)

Stills Source.

I’m no more afraid.
Earlier I thought that society had made a prison for women.
But now I realise, I am not only a woman, but a human being.
i cannot be imprisoned. I am free. Kumudini.

Stills from Jogajog (2015).  The adaptation shifts the time period of the 1929 novel to 1970s-1980s Bengal. A lot of beautiful handlooms in the film, mostly Bengali but also from Orissa (see this 1980s discussion). One of the themes of the film, the conflict between a marginalised cultured aristocracy and the emergence of an energetic but crude new business class is seen in the male costumes. Subdued kurtas for the former and a lot of safari suits, chains and the like for the latter.

Stills showing more of the clothes at the film’s facebook site.

Two movies that draw on Rabindranath Tagore’s life.

The first, Kadambari, is on his sister-in-law Kadambari Devi who committed suicide at an early age. Pics 1 and 2 are of Konkona Sen-Sharma and Parambrata Chatterjee as Kadambari and Rabindranath in the movie.

The second, Jeevan Smriti, is a documentary based on Tagore’s life and made for Doordarshan for the author’s 150th death anniversary by Rituparno Ghosh. The documentary spans Tagore’s life from his childhood to his death.  Raima Sen and Samadarshi Dutta play Kadambari and Rabindranath.

Both films draw on the many images of the Tagore family for costuming, the latter more so it would appear from the stills.

Bymokesh Bakshi is probably the most filmed fictional detective in India. A number of the films/serials are obviously made in Bengal, pic 2 for e.g. is of Jisshu Sengupta as the detective in the fourth installment of a recent Byomkesh series.

There have been two versions in Hindi. Pic 1 is of the series made in the 1990s with Rajit Kapur as Byomkesh.  The second is the recent film with Sushant Singh Rajput as the detective. The movie’s many stylistic touches extend to the characters costumes, though not overtly.  Byomkesh for e.g. is often in a jacket instead of a shawl, in pic 3 he also wears the shirt tunic popular in North India. And shoes. Anguri Devi in the last pic wears the sequin sarees of the time. For Satyavati there are a lot of handlooms all worn in the then modern style of 6 yards. And refreshingly no puff sleeve blouse or lace. Instead there are thesimpler styles of the 1940s.

There are of course many more. Some I have omitted because the costuming is very inaccurate.  By and large though regional cinema tends to get the “look” right. Any more movies please feel free to comment!

I don’t post much personal stuff but today is my mother’s death anniversary and once in awhile I like to remember her in a public way:) The post does however tie in with the themes of my blog, retro style as well as female achievement.

My mother was a freelance journalist back in the 1980s – mostly pieces for the afternoon papers like Mid-day and the Afternoon Despatch & Courier (ADC). This cutting is from a profile on Surgeon Lieut-Commander Veena Khandekar for the ADC. The Lieut-Commander was awarded the Vishisht Seva Medal, the first woman in the Indian Navy to be so awarded.

Always fun to see the backdrop too – how many families had the folding screen room divider?!

Unfortunately the cutting is a bit torn and incomplete, I think the year is 1985.

A little late for this, probably should have posted around mid-February but I still have time till Holi so here goes! Everything is yellow and the fiery red of palash (though in our cities you see a lot more gulmohur and the occasional silk-cotton tree).

पीली पीली सरसों फूल  (Yellow are the mustard flowers)
पीली उड़े पतंग (The flying kite is yellow)
ओ पीली पीली उड़ी चुनरिया (The chunariya that flies is yellow)
ओ पीली पगड़ी के संग  (along with the yellow turban)
– opening lines of the spring/basant song from Upkar.

Vasant Panchami or the beginning of the spring season is on the 5th day of the waxing moon of Magh i.e. 12 February 2016 and is celebrated in the Northern part of India.

The colour yellow is associated with the day, be it clothes or rice coloured with saffron.

Also the day for worshipping Saraswati in some parts of the country e.g. Bengal. And in days past the day for a festival in honour of Kamadeva aka the God of Love, though the celebration shifted with time from April to the beginning of spring and is no longer celebrated.

Painting credit: Samar Ghose via Satyasri Ukil Barishkar.

PS: Obviously I love spring posts.

Spring arrives in the month of Phalgun, accompanied by honey-makers, and passes through green bamboo groves where the southerly wind blows.

Song of the Seasons, Fireflies in the Mist,  Qurratulain Hyder.

Painting: Sonali Mohanty.

She herself turned to be a bouquet of Palash
When she presented me with one
While within the green foliage her heart
tense with passion trembled in silent whispers
concerting to the warm south breeze.
That was the first Falgun  [X]

Lovers, Sudhir Khastgir (1946)

Devdas may well be summarised by these three screen captures:)

Saratchandra was 17 when he wrote Devdas, it is likely the author himself thought the novel an immature work in later age.  Despite it being a “youth novel” and  despite the success of the 2002 film version, it is unlikely that any modern young person identifies with any of the principal protagonists of the novel.  Yet the fact that nearly a century after his creation Devdas lives on as one kind of an archetypal Indian hero is surely a testimony to the enduring power of this teenage work that is also  strange and singular.  It is also a novel that taps into the Indian imagination – it is not surprising that of all translations, it was the English version that was a latecomer. For this and many other reasons I like Devdas.

And of all the film versions, it is the 1936 version that I most enjoyed – the Hindi version i.e.. Coming as it did about 20 years after the publication of the novel, it is probably also closer to the mores of the society of the novel.  And yet it is also very much of its time, its costumes in particular are very much of the 1930s.  That it, it does not aim to authentically recreate an earlier milieu but a glamourised version of it for the audience of the 1930s.

Though Paro (played by Jamuna) gets to wear a few fancy 1930s saris post her marriage, for the most part she wears the filmi version of village simplicity.   Unlike in later versions it is not the Bengal style sari but the six yard drape that was modern in this decade. The last screen grab is of Paro in her wedding attire, this is a Benares sari worn in the seedha pallu style.

The dichotomy of pure and indigenous i.e. Indian and imitative and questionable i.e. Western that we sometimes see with women’s clothing even today was applied to male clothing perhaps up until the 1950s. It is kind of specific to the colonial experience, crossing over to the other side indicated both social status and loss of cultural identity

The ‘citification” of Devdas (played by K.L. Saigal) is brief. For awhile in Calcutta embarrassed by his country cousin status he wears a suit. But once he returns and sets in motion the plot by rejecting Parvati the city fades away, except for the kotha milieu, and Devdas resumes his Indian attire. In keeping with the Bengali setting Devdas is often in a dhoti but Northern influences like the achkan and topi are also seen.

Also Parvati didn’t like the citification one bit.

In the 1930s, men often wore a shirt-kameez with a dhoti or paijama or salwar which was often wide at the bottom.  This could be worn with a jacket and if required headgear. Similarly footwear could be shoes or mojris.

Chandramukhi (played by Rajkumari in this version) by virtue of her profession is usually the most splendidly clad character in Devdas. 1930s glamour with its sequinned and zari borders and the incorporation of modern motifs can be seen in a lot of the saris that Chandramukhi wears. These are worn with the blouses of the time, neither body fitting like the 1950s or loose like the previous decades but more like gently contouring the upper part of the body. I can’s say if it is Art Deco but screen grabs 2 and 3 have interesting geometric patterns – I really like the sari of pic 2. She also wears a lot of Chandelier earrings which were very popular in the 1930s.

I am not adding too many notes on the hair and makeup but the sleek hairstyles and the strong, stylised make up are very much of the decade.

One of the ways in which Devdas (1936) differs from versions that came later is in scenes that capture the ambience and camaderie of the kotha in which Chandramukhi works. Rather than the set pieces of later films, the kotha here is more like a living space. There is a brief dance sequence but this is not performed by Chandramukhi and there is a good deal of emphasis on the accompanists.

For the short dance sequence (mistakenly labeled as Chandramukhi’s dance) you can see that the costume is a ghagra and a diaphanous dupatta. This is quite different from courtesan representations, both in costume and dance, in subsequent films like the 1955 version*.

For the men, the costume of the singer is colourful and rakish (pic 3) while men who seem to be long time customers are in an achkan or dhoti-kurta.

This is part of a series that looks at costumes in films.

For other Devdas versions see here.  Also a shoe inspired by Devdas or at any rate Louboutin’s love of Indian cinema.

*This fitted Anarkali version is the standard courtesan dress in many films and probably dates from the late 19th century.

Dadar Kirti  (1980) is based on a Sharadindu Bandyopadhyay  story and is a highly fun, easy watch with a charming ensemble cast doing it justice. While it is not subtitled, a rudimentary knowledge of Bengali is enough to enjoy the movie.  The movie is on youtube – bless Rajshri for not cluttering it with a hundred flashing logos!

The time the movie is set in wasn’t entirely clear to me but the story and treatment is suggestive of early 20th century Bengal. There are a lot of 1980s touches though and the colour palette is of the decade too but for all that I enjoyed the costumes of the film.

First up a veritable  feast of Bengal sarees with specific types for each character.  The look is severe and no-nonsense for brainy Saraswati (Mahua Roychowdhury) and cheerful and sweet for her younger sister Beeni (Debashree Roy).  A lot of “lawyerly” blouses for Saraswati and puff sleeve girlish ones for Beeni.

Saris are worn Bengal style for Boudi (Sandhya Roy) – very much a married woman’s attire. Most are daily wear cotton, for a function out comes the Benares! Like me Boudi really loves a frill – even her hand fan has it.

The Bihar style of sari  worn seedha pallu with jacket like blouses and heavy silver jewellery is seen on the family help Phulmatia (Sulata Chowdhury).

While Saraswati’s look is a simple and scholarly for the most part, she pulls out all the stops for a “girl-seeing” ceremony at the end of the film with a bright orange Benarasi sari worn with a sea green blouse with paisley print sleeves. Also some beautiful hair ornaments. Boudi wears a Dhakai saree, I think Beeni’s is a Santiniketan print.

Naturally I like Beeni’s red ribbon being a ribbon fan.

I think the white blouse that Boudi is wearing is dotted Swiss cotton, a fabric popular for blouses for several decades but rarely spotted now.

Saraswati is also in a dance drama (Chitrangada) and wears a lovely Manipuri costume (above) – the dance drama can be seen in this video.

The knitwear is gloriously 80s! There are the shawls of course but that sweater with the embroidery on Saraswati and that crochet jacket on Beeni owe much to the decade. And all those patterned vests for Santu the smart bro (Ayan Banerjee) are also quite 80s. The lead, Kedar (Tapas Paul) has to make do with a bog standard scarf.

I have so much love for Indian woolies post a winter post I did. Not exactly smartly cut coats (though the shawls can give the coats a run for their money) but so colourful and sweet and comfortable looking.

And last up the hoop earrings.  I wore these as a child, my aunts wore them all through the 70s and 80s so I assume they are of the time!

Part of a continuing series on costumes in films.

I chanced upon this pic on ebay and in it are all the glorious 70s trends!

First up its prints, prints, prints. The maxis* – at least I think they are maxis, the construction of the lower part is interesting. The short tunic with an outsize collar worn over trousers (which are still a little narrow like the 60s and yet to cross over into bell-bottom territory). Cap sleeve blouses for saris, the casual drape of the sari. Handkerchief clutched in hand. The wristwatch. And all that white footwear. 1971 looks good!

*If you are on to a good thing, might as well duplicate it:)