Raising The Bar

This would have made a clumsy phone chat so I thought of writing to you to say that with The Dirty Picture,you have turned the heroines cleavage into a trouser suit.

Before we suggest that the National Institute of Fashion Technology use this as a fashion lesson to explain symbolism in dressing,let me confess to something.

I watched your red sari and red lipstick promos on TV and in newspapers and wondered what you were up to. I mean,wasnt that quivering tummy act giving you a body image issue? I know you are a star and are obliged to promote a forthcoming release wearing its theme on your sleeve,but it was getting a bit much. Especially when you went around distributing red-sequinned saris on TV shows. Lets just say that it wasnt the saris ooh la la moment. I almost wrote about it but wondered if I had a premise,even if I had a peg.

Then I watched the film. The way you carry off those tacky costumes,spilling the beans on Silks life,telling us why she would have enjoyed a cigarette with Germaine Greer more than with Hugh Heffner,I am glad I didnt write that silly piece. Whoever Silk Smitha was doesnt matter. And I dont even want to go into the Eighties hangover in dressing that Niharika Khan,your stylist in the film,serves with such revelry. What matters is that you have raised the acceptability of the cleavage and given it a higher billing than it has ever got in Hindi cinema. While Zeenat Aman wore hers like a beauty queens sash in Satyam Shivam Sundaram; you wear it like a working womans jacket. Zeenat was catapulted into our collective imagination not only because of her natural oomph but also because she wore one of the first risqué costumes that Bhanu Athaiya would design.

Before and After Zeenat,the cleavage would only play hide and seek with the heroines garment. Remember how the belly button gave it stiff competition in the Seventies? But it was fascinating to see Mumtaz in her orange sari in Brahmachari,Dimple Kapadia in an emerald green dress in Sagar,and Madhuri Dixit in Beta give it different languages. Mumtazs cleavage lost the battle to the Libertina bras oppressive,conical rule but Dimples heaved with such pining that it made life miserable both for Rishi Kapoor and Kamal Hasan in the film. Madhuris cleavage,of course,would open a new chapter for the Hindustani heroine. But you,my dear,have given it a new makeover. Your last few films have been very good and you come across as an intelligent actor. Now your intelligence and insight have only been reiterated by the way you wear your cleavage.

After The Dirty Picture,you arent busy calling the police for protection against indecent attention; instead you are at conclaves speaking serious pop culture issues. In the film,you wore your cleavage like you wear your Sabyasachi saris in real life and the two now speak for each other. Your blouses may be polka-dotted,disco bling but their plunge is so much a reflection of a working womans daily grit that I saw in it the flashes of a trouser suit.

You know what? We are told that before Yves St Laurent made the trouser suit the boss of the working wardrobe for women,they would be greeted with wolf whistles in Europe if they wore stiff suits to work. It was considered depraved,frivolous and an affront to working class male sobriety. It gave the men something to look at and they didnt like the individualism they saw in the garb of a trouser suit. Thats how I interpret your cleavage. You have redeemed it from being one among the many accessories of an item girl and hung it up in a heroines wardrobe. The only thing that distracted from your cleavage was the eye contact you made with the lovers and losers in the film. And outside it,with your fans during the red sari promotional gigs. Wow.

Warmly,

Shefalee

shefalee.vasudevexpressindia.com