Being a Child of the South Asian Diaspora Means Having Different Wardrobes
It was in California that I realized my liberation was tied to my choice in clothing
During my teen years in New York City, I would take frequent trips to a local McDonald’s to use its public bathroom. There, I would shed layers of clothing and switch into a miniskirt before going out. Upon returning home, I would make a quick visit to the same restroom to disassemble my getup and return to a sweatshirt and jeans. I did this frequently enough that the manager and I were on a first-name basis. Many young, especially Muslim, South Asian women echo a similar tale of navigating personal style and home life. It’s a sartorial code switch.
My parents migrated to the United States from Bangladesh in 1991. I was not even born yet.
In my mother’s luggage was an iconic amount of dried fish and three saris that journeyed with her across the world. My earliest childhood memories are of me tugging on my mom’s dupatta to get her attention. When my mother would see other women who were strangers wearing salwar kameezes, she felt a sense of community. While my mother wore Bangladeshi clothes, my mother dressed me in American clothes, typically consisting of a hoodie and jeans. Her traditional dress practices shifted when she got…
