The women of Indian, Bangladesh, and Sri Lanka get hot weather.
Wherever they live, be it Mumbai or Minneapolis, they saunter along the streets, their gait graceful but grave, stately yet sensual. Humidity may stop me dead in my tracks, but the ladies' unruffled progress magically seems to hold the atmospheric discomfort at bay. (Note to self: There is no need to rush. Anywhere. At any time.)
A major plus in their sartorial favour is the traditional wardrobe. Whether she is as lissome as Padma Lakshmi or a grandmother rather more sturdily built, every Indian woman I've ever laid eyes on looks understatedly elegant when dressed in the midriff-baring top known as a choli and the long skirt called a pavanga, all of it gently wrapped by a sari, which is nothing more mysterious than a long silken panel. The over-the-shoulder end of the sari floats in the breeze, adding greatly to the heat-shrugging appearance.
There is a lesson in all this. Have you been taking notes?
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