Couture Dreams back to square one

The multi-coloured apparel honing the entrance of my store, the tall mannequins displaying range of outfits that I had chosen for my humble clothing store were no more the point of contentment. They had been standing tall since months without any avail. Even the effigies were now irritable and talking to each other,” “We stand for hours together to display our master’s couture in the best possible way. But are these so-called stylish garments even sellable?

My store is named after my daughter, “Asha”- meaning hope. Hope has been my constant companion since day one because I was not born with a silver spoon to start a business and that too in America. I hailed from a humble village from Rajasthan in India with Disneyland dreams and sky rocketing ambitions of becoming a successful clothing merchant in New Jersey.

I was fortunate enough to reach America because my maternal uncle was a citizen of New Jersey and had a small apparel store in the city centre for almost 15 years. He needed some store help and sponsored my visa and stay. Entry into the States was like a childhood fantasy coming true in form and stature.

It was in 2015 that I came to New Jersey to play the game called “Life” and “Life with Apparel”. The uncle’s store was named ‘Aishwarya’ meaning abundance. It was a beautiful marble laden store with a wide array of Indian outfits, both casual and festive. New Jersey being replete with Indians and other Asian communities who wear Indian apparel, the business was thriving and satisfying for my uncle, Mr. Amit Chaudhary. My proper name is Mukesh Chaudhary but my pet name is ‘Manu’ and no one ever called me with my real name.

The first few years under his counsel were a huge learning experience. Right from ordering the stock from India to catering to the diverse needs of the customers in Jersey was no mere feat. We were so elated that even the local American folk would buy festive clothes mainly for Diwali parties from our outlet.

As Rajasthanis, business acumen flows in our every vessel, our ancestors for four generations were affluent clothing merchants and uncle was no exception. My nostrils used to always swell with pride and adulation to see my uncle flourish so well and so rapidly.

The repute of ‘Aishwarya’ as a classical Indian apparel store was spreading far and wide. Customers started flooding from neighbouring towns and cities and business proposals started knocking the door. One of the exciting proposals was to start another outlet in New York, the city of dreams. I was kind of counting my blessings and sustaining the multiple butterflies in my stomach; I desperately wanted to flee to New York and come out of my own- metamorphose from a larva to a variegated butterfly.

With a quivering voice, I buckled all the courage to broach this topic to my great Chaudhary Uncle. His out of the world, large persona with an equally large belly and an awkward gait added to his intimidating aura, a striking sheen. I said, “Amit Uncle, Can I lead the New York store? As it is you are so busy and tied up here.Moreover, most of the consumers seek your opinion while making sartorial choices. Hence, it would be salutary if you continue your brilliance here whilst I start seeing light at the start of this new fashion tunnel in New York- a city where dreams are made of.

His mind was neck deep in this quandary whether to exercise complete trust on me or as usual behave like a shrewd businessman and give me a limited sense of authority-in other words do not take me as a partner but as an employee like all these years. I don’t have a clue about the musings of human mind and its infinite and voracious appetite for power and power only. I was his kin, but he still harboured doubts and that was painful to say the least.

After days of pondering, he finally decided to delegate the project ‘New York’ to me after a lot of deliberation. I was feeling on cloud nine to say the least. It was 2^nd January of 2019 that our store, ‘Asha’ was inaugurated in the heart of New York. I was the clothing ambassador of our Indian dream – shimmering skirts called as ‘lehengas’ and glamorous blouses that the brides and the families wore with scintillating pride and élan.

As expected from day three itself, there was a considerable footfall especially for expensive wedding trousseaus that we so sheerly cherished and maintained for so many years. We had the facility of even stitching made-to-order, elaborately embroidered pieces carefully worked upon by the deft artisans from Rajasthan.

The first year went considerably well after which COVID ensued and everything changed for worst. The business went back to square one when uncle had started almost 15 years ago. All my dreams were crashed in a flash. I was unable to go to the store almost for 7 months due to the lockdown and the rapport with the clientele had dropped to zero. Upon that, our clothing was meant for festivities and hence the sale was very seasonal. I used to think, what will happen if I am not able to open the store. The outfits need to be refreshed, given some air; there was so much of daily research about new Indian styles which had gone into a complete inertia and there was key investment dying there behind closed doors.

Nobody wants to go back to square one, not even in the simple game of snakes and ladders; so how could we cope easily and nonchalantly with this mess called as ‘COVID rout’. Even the apparel was feeling strangulated and wanted to shed off plastic covers and flaunt their elegance on respective brides and girls. Everyone likes a bit of vanity and my clothes and mannequins weren’t an exception. Each one of them wanted to visit affluent houses and get cosy in the classy closets.

After a gap of seven months, I finally got a chance to open my store again. The keys jangled in my palms urging to open the door and jump on the system’s table. I finally opened the outer shutter and the inner glass door. Off I went inside and shed a warm tear. I can’t articulate the feeling of coming back to my radiant clothes, the sacred thread with my beloved India and the pride to represent something with complete conviction.

For the first and the last time ,I was in seventh heaven to be back on square one only to be better and a more abundant version of myself.