“Can you do my wing?”

“Give me your black skirt” 

“Wear my necklace with that shirt.” 

M’s brown top is my favourite. She’s stolen it from her sister. I pair that with my red checked skirt. D wants a soft smokey eye, she asks me to copy the look for her from Pinterest. S is searching for her red lipstick. She saves it for the ‘important’ occasions. Going out with her friends for a drink makes the list. Alisha Chinai begins singing ‘Kajra Re’ from my ‘Sringar’ playlist. We take a break to sip on our drinks and dance to the chorus. K bursts into the room. “Guys, we’ll lose our reservation.” She’s the time keeper. We find it hard to care and J immediately distracts her by asking her to pick between the pink top and the blue one. 

We all lead complicated lives. Our thoughts get the better of us. The boy we like doesn't like us back and the job we’ve always wanted isn’t what we thought it would be. Our shoulders hurt, everything seems to be pressing down on us. But on some days, a plan forms in a group with a funny name on WhatsApp and our wardrobes are opened to reveal colour amidst the general grey that had settled in. We refuse to reply to our colleagues and instead reach for our makeup kit and junk jewellery pouches. We pile onto cars and enter a friend’s house. We create a haven. We make it a space exclusive to us and our girlhood. Our conviction can be powerful. 

Perhaps this is what I like most about fashion – it reminds us of who we are. There is an idea of ourselves that we hold onto. It is sacred. People have a habit of polluting that. It’s hard to not forget who we are. Fashion often swoops in as our personal armour. As our declaration of who we are. It’s an easy way for us to express ourselves. And while the din of everyday life might not allow us to do that, there are these nights that provide us with the refuge we seek. It’s when the people we have chosen to share our lives with, come together to conspire with us. It’s that night that reminds of who we are and what cannot be taken from us.

We click photographs, each one taking turns to play models, directors, photographers and light directors. The group picture is a mess. 

“5 seconds.” 

“Everybody in the frame!!!!”

A picture emerges. There’s 6 girls. Each in outfits that are extensions of themselves. The smiles are bright. The eyes are shining. The air is easier to breathe. 

By Q

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