Just browsing
A feature of the retail landscape across the state of Kerala in southern India is the large store devoted almost entirely to the sari, that single piece of fabric which, when draped and pleated in various ways, has become the default women’s garment in many parts of South Asia. These shops are stocked from floor to ceiling with tens of thousands of saris, covering the full spectrum of color in every imaginable design. They line the walls without any obvious organizing principle and are yet ordered in some inscrutable way for easy retrieval by employees.
Upon entering one of these emporiums the prospective purchaser can expect to be promptly greeted by a scrum of sales representatives, one of whom will oh-so-graciously offer a beverage of her choosing: hot tea if she wishes or perhaps something cold to better counter the tropical heat outside.1 The customer is shown to a cushioned seat from which to consider the merchandise, and upon indicating the barest hint of directional interest the staff will spring into action.
Suddenly from the stocked shelves a profusion of brocades and prints and filigrees and paisleys and iridescent silks with lace details or fringes or golden threads will be dramatically unfurled, cascading one on top of the other in front of the customer. No whimsy is too trivial to be indulged. If a different texture or a slightly deeper shade of green is sought the clerks will immediately find it and drape it over the growing pile.2 Throughout this display the customer is aware of the sheer extravagance of the effort and the knowledge that each sari will have to be painstakingly refolded and filed back in its place.
All this thoughtfulness may appear altruistic, but it conceals a far more calculated motive. Read more…
- Seriously, the ratio of sales staff per shopper can easily be above 5:1, which is partly a commentary on India’s vast population and its low cost of labor. ↩
- A real-world analogue of the title character’s attempts to woo Daisy through the ostentatious tossing of shirts in The Great Gatsby, which you probably read at some point if you attended high school in the U.S. ↩
- The purchasers of these saris are frequently expatriates that are high on money and low on time, so these transactions are infrequent, but when they happen these stores can really ring the cash register. ↩
- Even though it was over a decade ago, perhaps I should have valued my time more than the few dollars I received. In any case their social engineering was of dubious benefit, as I did not listen to the radio regularly and so sent back a virtually empty journal, which had some unknown effect on the media market of metropolitan Washington, D.C. ↩
- And if you’re ever in Kerala and not sure if you want to bring a sari (or six) home with you, politely decline the coffee. ↩