Skirting around 'knee-jerks'

'Don't tempt men. Girls from good families do not wear short skirts,' they would say.

“No one over the age of 40 should wear a mini-skirt,” self-proclaimed fashionistas mock me through their blogs, “Unless you want to look like mutton dressed as lamb.”

I read the words, horrified that a fashion blog is comparing me to a piece of meat. On further reading, I learn that a mini falls around mid-thigh, while skirts falling two-three inches above the knees can safely be worn by women of all ages. Phew.

I fumble through my wardrobe until, tucked away in a corner, I spot the single mini-skirt I still possess. I haven’t worn it in years. I pull it out and decide to wear it immediately because, while I don’t mean to brag, I have great legs. And as I hit my mid-forties, this much is clear: my great legs are on their last legs.

I pull it on but when I try to button it up, I realise I have gained a few inches. I suck in my belly, fasten the button, and feel like I’m going to explode. “Not bad,” I tell myself, scarcely daring to breathe, and step into the bedroom.

My husband looks up from the computer. “What’s that?” “A skirt!” “Hmm.. Are you sure it, er, matches?” I get the hint, squirm out of the tiny fabric and heave a sigh of relief as my belly bounces back with a boing. I hand it over to my daughter, who pounces on it gleefully. “Enjoy wearing it,” I tell her, thinking back to my own childhood, wondering if she would face the same judgement I did every time I donned a miniskirt.

“This is not Indian culture,” they would say to me. “Don’t tempt men.” “Girls from good families do not wear short skirts.” And then, as a final shot, they would throw in western examples. “Classy women the world over don’t wear minis. Look at Lady Diana, look at Queen Elizabeth. Knees covered.”

I could only look at them, mouth open in disbelief. “If you wanted me to dress like royalty, maybe you should have ensured you were royals yourself. Giving me birth in this red-blooded family and wanting me to dress like blue-blood is asking for too much.”

Thus, over the years, minis won a permanent place in my wardrobe. Today, if my shortest skirts stop just above the knees, it is not because of lectures on morality, or websites shaming me into dressing modestly at my age, but because it is what I am comfortable wearing.

When our desi girl Priyanka Chopra wore a dress and met PM Modi in Berlin, she gave the trolls much to talk about. So many jobless people suddenly got the fantastic opportunity to lament about the lack of ‘Indian-ness’ in someone who has achieved success on an international scale. “This is not Indian culture,” someone chastised her. “Cover your legs.” Now where had I heard that before?

Thirty years, and nothing has changed. It’s time for the guardians of Indian culture to grow up and measure women by their achievements, by the good they do and the talents they bring forth, and not by the length of their skirts. Leave that to the fashion bloggers.