Page 52 of Red Flags and Rishtas
On Saturday morning, I met V out front. She looked just as tense as I felt, and I realised that she had way more at risk than me – she’d never hidden anything from her mother, that too professionally. Nevertheless, she squeezed my shoulders ingreeting and led me inside the boutique. Even though we’d spent the whole of last week doing up the space, it was a little surreal to see it all come together. I just hoped V’s mom would feel the same way.
‘What have you told her?’ I asked, removing the cloth covering the royal crimson two-seater sofa.
She helped me fold it and tuck it away. Everything had to be perfect, not a thread out of place.
‘That you have some new plans to show her,’ she said, then added reluctantly, ‘she wasn’t very thrilled about it.’
‘I bet,’ I said. ‘I didn’t exactly deliver the last time around.’
V’s eyes were sympathetic, but she didn’t deny it. ‘But I love it now. I just hope she does too,’ she said, sweeping her arms around.
By now, V knew what was going on, even though I hadn’t sat her down and explicitly told her. She knew I was going with a theme, that I wanted to offer a big fat North Indian wedding experience to every bride before the actual wedding. She just didn’t know how I was going to package it.
We spent the next hour double-checking all the arrangements, eyeing every detail and glancing anxiously at the clock. When Kavita Aunty finally arrived, I noticed that she wasn’t alone. A young girl was with her.
‘Who’s that?’ I stopped V before she could open the door.
‘Muskan … she’s the bride we’ve been designing for. I think they’re just stopping by before heading to the older boutique,’ she said, her eyes flitting from the door to me.
‘Uh oh.’
Okay, this wasn’t in the original plan. But I knew I had no choice but to improvise. If I failed, there’d be an extra spectator, another pair of eyes to capture my defeat.
As the two of them entered through the door, V’s words came back to me.She’s the bride we’ve been designing for. The bride.
And just like that, I knew I had to sell my idea toher, not Aunty. Channelling my most agreeable tone, I stepped forward to greet them. I could see V’s mom looking around in puzzlement, but I didn’t give her time to get overwhelmed.
‘Hello, ma’am,’ I said, nodding and smiling at both of them. ‘Welcome to Akira Couture.’
The confusion on Aunty’s face dissolved for a tiny moment as she returned my smile. Muskan peered back at me pleasantly, and in a desperate moment, I tried to communicate with her telepathically.
Please, please, be impressed.
‘What’s all this?’ Aunty asked, turning to face V, who was almost hiding behind me.
‘Your new and improved boutique,’ I said, with a confidence I didn’t quite feel. ‘Let me show you around.’
I led them to the sofa against the right wall, which faced a cushioned bench.
‘Before I begin showing the beautiful bride our collection, I’d like to tell you both a little bit about the design of the studio itself and how it seeks to symbolise the North Indian bride,’ I began, walking deliberately to the wall behind them.
‘Every inch of this boutique, be it this minimal mehendi wallpaper,’ I said as I traced a finger down the mandala borders on the wall, ‘or this mandap-themed seating area, is designed to give you a complete bridal experience.’
I walked over to the kalash-shaped side table next to where Aunty was seated.
‘We pride ourselves on borrowing from the rich Hindu tradition of the North, but don’t be fooled. We’re also modern, progressive and futuristic,’ I said, opening the doors to the kalash cabinet to reveal a mini bar.
V helped me pour two glasses of champagne as I continued my presentation.
‘At Akira Couture, we understand how special the wedding day is for any bride. And we are honoured that you have given us the opportunity to make it even more special,’ I said, pausing to smile broadly at Muskan.
V’s mom was looking around, taking in the space. I knew she hadn’t been expecting this. I just hoped I’d left her surprised, not shocked. Muskan, on the other hand, had her eyes fixed on me. She was listening to me intently, I realised.
‘The perfect bride deserves the perfect dress,’ I said and paused for a second, before adding, ‘it’s not your job alone to find it … the dress must find you. And that’s where we come in.’
V handed out the champagne glasses just as I placed two tablets in front of each of them. For the next ten minutes, I let them browse through the presentation I’d worked on over the last two nights and in between breaks at work. I’d digitised the bridal collection, with V as my model. I spoke at length about the customisation possibilities – how our designers would work extra hard to ensure every little detail was perfect.
‘Akira Couture is a safe space. We want you to know that we’re here for you. We understand you. And we want to give you exactly what you want … nothing more, nothing less,’ I concluded.
