A flying Taj Mahal

[imomus]

I'm in London, about to start two days of brainstorming on the subject of The Really Modern Library at the London School of Economics, in an event organized by the Institute for the Future of the Book (sponsored by the Mellon Foundation). Thinking about what libraries can and might become alongside me will be, amongst others, Cory Doctorow and Eames Demetrios, the grandson of Charles and Ray Eames. More coverage as the sessions unfold.



Today, though, I just wanted to talk about the flight over from New York. I was originally going to fly back to Berlin from New York, but the if:book people bought me a new ticket back to Europe, with Air India. I've flown the airline before, between Japan and Thailand (when I annoyed the hostess by asking for British tea -- "It's Indian tea," she corrected, quite correctly), but I must admit I was a bit worried by the combination of the ridiculous cheapness of the ticket (just $157 before tax, one way, which is £76) and the route, basically the same one an Air India 747 took in 1985 when it was bombed out of the skies over the Irish Sea.

My trepidations were completely misplaced. Air India is a great way to fly (if fly you must -- save the Earth, etc). Terminal 4 at JFK is vastly superior to the awful Delta terminal I've been spending so much time in recently. The people queuing at check in were wearing beautiful Indian clothes -- Indians must be the best-dressed people on the entire planet, with fantastic colours and patterns and forms in their clothes, and a refreshing absence of the jeans, mesh hats and pseudo-sportswear you see at Western airline check-in lines.

The plane was a brand new Boeing 777 painted in the new Air India livery, which (I'm glad to say) retains the Taj Mahal window decorations I noted in my Cosmopolitanism of the Poor entry, but adds a new tail design, a big orange and red chakra motif taken from the Sun Temple at Konark. The hostesses wear saris with a slice of bare belly showing, and are distractingly gorgeous. The music that plays before take-off is better than the usual airline music (it seemed to be a mixture of Indian and Western songs played on sitar) and the in-flight movies are Bollywood, not Hollywood. Oh, and the lamb curry is -- for airline food -- pretty good, with a pot of yoghurt and some wonderfully strange, stringy-sweet dessert.

India's economic growth is second only to China's right now, and when you're in the middle of a neo-orientalist transport on an aesthetically pleasing, smooth nocturnal Air India flight it's fascinating to imagine the world skewing more and more to the values encountered on this flying Taj Mahal -- the way women are, the way food is, the way clothes are, the way movies and music are.

A lot of my writing and thinking revolves around the idea that the West is, in many ways, morally and aesthetically threadbare at the moment, and that Asia's rise can only be a good thing for the world. We may be handing over leadership, later this century, to two cultures which are much older and wiser than our own. I sometimes have the feeling that India could be as important to me as Japan has been. I need to go there one day. In the meantime, jet-lagged but refreshed, I made a bee line for the British Museum (not far from my hotel) and soaked up some of the shakti, replacing the night's lost hours with Yoganidra, Maya's divine sleep.

Comments

[lord-whimsy.livejournal.com]

A lot of my writing and thinking revolves around the idea that the West is, in many ways, morally and aesthetically threadbare at the moment

I agree up to a point, but much of the problem may arise from the cult of novelty steering us away from our native textures, as we see those of India above in your post.

Here are some American textures that still feel fresh and alive to me (http://lord-whimsy.livejournal.com/257277.html)--if for no other reason than they have been marginalized by neglect.

[lord-whimsy.livejournal.com]

...but yes, Indian aesthetics are wonderful. Any holiday that involves cute little ladies wishing you a happy Diwali, saffron-colored wreaths, tinny pop ragas, and little red footprints all over the house is doing something right.

[imomus.livejournal.com]

Just out of interest, Whimsy, do you think it would be possible to do something elegant with jeans, mesh hats and pseudo-sportswear? I mean, is there something inherently wrong with them, or is it just the way people wear them?

[microworlds.livejournal.com]

Together, it would be a mess. Plus, it all depends on fit and the style in which it's presented. What do you mean by "pseudo-sportswear"? Track jackets, Nikes, what?

[imomus.livejournal.com]

I mean clothing developed for sportspeople but worn by people who neglect their bodies, mostly.

[stanleylieber.livejournal.com]

Ah, such as the kimono.

jeans - hats - sportswear

[pay-option07.livejournal.com]

http://www.buffalonews.com/opinion/everybodyscolumn/story/181769.html

I hope the destruction of forests for pulp and paper doesn't interfere with our need to comb stacks of cellulose fibers for pleasure?

[ex-newironsh15.livejournal.com]

it's obvious you've been to denver

[dmlaenker.livejournal.com]

Or any mid-sized city, really.

[(Anonymous)]

It's the paradox of Holloway Road Streetwear Rule #5: 'The more generally inert someone's life is, the more their clothing must suggest agility.'

[(Anonymous)]

Though, generally, people dress how they'd like to be, not how they are. The uptight dress relaxed, the dull dress colourful, flighty teenagers wear serious black while parents dress young, 'in-group' hipsters dress like freaks and people everyone avoids talking to try to look ultra-ultra-normal.

[niddrie-edge.livejournal.com]

Cripes! I must be uptight aspiring middle class! All those Marks and Spencers hand me downs I buy from "good area" thrift shops. Yet I feel so sexy in my charcoal grey cardigans and light grey button down shirts. Sexy In a kinky Conservative politician sort of way.

[(Anonymous)]

Exactly. 'Nothing to see here' grey implies unspeakably kinky.

[lord-whimsy.livejournal.com]

Both. I hate those tired, shrill, ubiquitous, industrial textures--denim, plastic, spandex--they offer no lasting pleasure, like knotted silk or a delightfully rumpled summer linen (or cozy corduroy (http://www.corduroyclub.com/)). Again, it's the culture of slumming, of assigning value to being able to take the ugliness rather than actively coaxing the beautiful out of the commonplace. Thrifting at its best does that. You've done that.

If you said casual street wear, I could make a case that it depends on fit, color, pattern, etc. I've seen casual items look sharp, breezy and poised, and I've seen more formal wear that looks anything but. This usually has much to do with how the clothes are being worn. One knows sprezzatura when they see it.

However, the main problem with sportswear is that such items are built with a specific purpose in mind, elegance not being among them. Looking youthful is one thing, but looking lazy, juvenile and petulant is another. It's a very selfish sort of mindset, because it places one's comfort (as if jeans were comfortable) over any consideration over how being an banal eyesore affects our commonly shared public landscape. One may be covered, sure, but not dressed. We should dress for others as well as ourselves.

I think people in the West are so fixed on the hoary cliché that "it's what's inside that matters" that they fail to see that one can change themselves from the outside, in. I've seen men's posture, speech and manners improve almost immediately as soon as they're put into a decent set of clothes. They start spouting absurdities like "please" and "thank you". Just goes to show that the self is a fluid thing--it has both the properties of a sponge and a mirror.

At the end of the day, the best-dressed person in the room is often the person who has spent the most thought, not the most money.

(This coming from someone who mixes thrift with bespoke, mind you.)

[lord-whimsy.livejournal.com]

That said, even I have days when I just want to be a rustic slob (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v250/lord_whimsy/Whimsy/DSCN9817.jpg)--but I do it out in the woods, beyond the sight of my fellow man.

(Oh, and here. Oops.)

[(Anonymous)]

Since so many clothes these days are designed to be baggy and for the uhhh ... majority weight class, it's impossible finding well-fitting clothing if you're a smaller guy. When you're young getting everything custom made is too expensive, so you're stuck with rare vintage finds (which are expensive these days anyway), and to sorting through the trendy skinny fashions, which are often denim and other annoying, cheap fabrics.

At the risk of being totally un PC, I think there need to be more straight men in fashion design than there are, so clothing can be made to fit the classic neat, fit way that seems to have disappeared once the 90s casual-is-king culture arrived (and waistelines exploded). Most of the clothing made fitted is either still way too baggy or they're too skin tight and exaggerate certain features unflattering for certain types.

But anyway. India.

[lord-whimsy.livejournal.com]

Yes, decent-fitting clothes are a challenge here in the States, because of size inflation and the boxy, baggy fit. However, I'm a smaller guy (5'6", 150lbs), and I can find things. I have found a few suits and jackets at H&M that have a nice slim but reasonable fit (I'm always the oldest person in the store, but it's nice to know that I can fit into the same clothes as someone half my age). With a couple alterations in the trousers and sleeves, you have a suit that doesn't make you look like Gary Coleman. Not the greatest quality, but a good deal for the money. The right shoes, shirt and tie can really bring it to the next level aesthetically--all of which can be had for a reasonable price. In fact, it may come out cheaper than buying overpriced designer jeans and tee shirts.

Yes, my gay friends will often venture into sartorial regions that I will not--makeup, corsets, huge hats, low rise sailor pants, shaved body hair, etc. I'm glad someone is out there doing that--people have become real cowards when it comes to clothing. After all, what's worse: the occasional insult, or a life of drabness? The casual ethic has itself become an insidiously confining convention.

That said, I tend to be a bit more flamboyant in these matters than most straight men (I love color), but perhaps that's my southern cavalier/Indian side showing through.