Skip to main content

In Costume

Recently I was chatting with a friend who is the parent of a pre-schooler. His child attends an expensive Montessori that his employer happens to pay for. My friend and his wife despite their affluence are middle-class at heart and don't feel comfortable flaunting their prosperity. Quite often they find themselves in their daughter's school surrounded by rich, well-dressed parents who view them somewhat superciliously. They are treated like outsiders in the clique of rich, fashion forward parents.

I am able to relate to their experience based on my own at J's school. The women wear and carry only designer labels and look like they spent a bomb on their perfect hairstyles and manicures. I am brand label averse and definitely not a slave to fashion. I get the sense that I am being socially rejected. It may be completely unrelated, it has also taken me a while to gain the attention of the teachers.

My friend thought we should just save ourselves the trouble and get a "costume" for school. If all it takes to be accepted are a few designer duds, might as well do it and blend in - we were not necessarily compromising on our values by doing so. There is a certain social signaling going on there which we cannot participate in because we are dressed all wrong.


I asked him if that would not mean setting the wrong example for our kids - they might want to do what it took to fit in as well. How do you help them parse the difference between intent and action. After all blending in is always the path of least resistance. It has taken me all of three years at J's school to be taken seriously and without Prada, Gucci et al to help me out. It proved to be an invaluable learning experience and can only help me help J navigate the cliques of cool kids that she will need to deal with in a few years.

Was watching this interesting video on the
psychology of wearing designer knock-offs and I wondered if the parent cliques my friend and I were talking about had some of these knock-off wearers as well. What if people played the part in costume like he was suggesting. The idea would then be too beat the fashionistas at their game by taking the cheap route while pretending to blend in - the cheating here is happening at many different levels.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Part Liberated Woman

An expat desi friend and I were discussing what it means to return to India when you have cobbled together a life in a foreign country no matter how flawed and imperfect. We have both spent over a decade outside India and have kids who were born abroad and have spent very little time back home. Returning "home" is something a lot of new immigrants like L and myself think about. We want very much for that to be an option because a full assimilation into our country of domicile is likely never going to happen. L has visited India more often than I have and has a much better pulse on what's going on there. For me the strongest drag force working against my desire to return home is my experience of life as a woman in India. I neither want to live that suffocatingly sheltered existence myself nor subject J to it. The freedom, independence and safety I have had in here in suburban America was not even something I knew I could expect to have in India. I never knew what it felt t

Cheese Making

I never fail to remind J that there is a time and place for everything. It is possibly the line she will remember me by when I am dead and gone given how frequently she hears it. Instead of having her breakfast she will break into a song and dance number from High School Musical well past eight on Monday morning. She will insist that I watch and applaud the performance instead of screaming at her to finish her milk and cereal. Her sense of occasion is seriously lacking but then so is mine. Consider for example, a person walks into the grocery store with the express purpose of buying detergent because they are fresh out of it and laundry is only half way done. However instead of heading straight for detergent, they wander over to the natural foods aisle and go berserk upon finding goat milk on sale for a dollar a gallon. They at once proceed to stock pile so they can turn it to huge quantities home-made feta cheese. That person would be me. It would not concern me in the least that I ha

Under Advisement

Recently a desi dude who is more acquaintance less friend called to check in on me. Those who have read this blog before might know that such calls tend to make me anxious. Depending on how far back we go, there are sets of FAQs that I brace myself to answer. The trick is to be sufficiently evasive without being downright offensive - a fine balancing act given the provocative nature of questions involved. I look at these calls as opportunities for building patience and tolerance both of which I seriously lack. Basically, they are very desirous of finding out how I am doing in my personal and professional life to be sure that they have me correctly categorized and filed for future reference. The major buckets appear to be loser, struggling, average, arrived, superstar and uncategorizable. My goal needless to say, is to be in the last bucket - the unknown, unquantifiable and therefore uninteresting entity. Their aim is to pull me into something more tangible. So anyways, the dude in ques