When I was exactly 19 years of age and had nothing to do in my life( because it was rosier than it is now and lets just face it, more free time equals more sleep), one of the things I did was rip my old pair of jeans. They seemed boring and old, and I was in a fashion school which gave me the liberty of cutting open a pair of clothing I no longer wanted to be in a state it was supposed to be. So on a sunny afternoon, a friend and I sat down and did what was needed to my jeans. Surprisingly enough, it turned out to be way too cool than I expected it to be( I imagined I would have to throw it in the trash) and so from that day onward, I had with me my first pair of ripped jeans.
I wore a couple of times, and all was well in the world.
Until I came to the hip and urban mess that is Gurgaon.
People stared. And stare they did like it was something alien. OK, no problem. I didn't mind the staring; I go to college in a conservative state where Fashion schools are considered the work of Satan. But hey, this was the urban mess where people had better things to do than actually stand and stare at a pair of innocent, ripped jeans! The staring was followed by whispering and giggling (and no, it wasn't the girls, gentlemen).
An employee at my internship asked me a very curious “Ye kahan ka fashion h waise” question. (he was genuinely ASKING)
A guy whispered to his friend on the metro, “Dekh bhai, jean phaaad rakhiii”, in an accent I enjoy.
A corporate white collar guy stared politely.
A 'dreadlocked' stranger looked slightly happy, for he grinned ear to ear.
A college going girl looked at it like it was the next nuclear weapon of mass destruction.
All in all, a lesson was learnt- Even the urban mess finds my ripped jeans interesting (or should I go with disturbing??) Whatever it is, I doubt it will grow on them, and I say this as I see the guy rewinding the yarn stare at it, blinking more than necessary.
Careful dude, your eyes might fall out.