And again, as is customary once a month, I really don’t know where to start this blog post from. I guess I’ll start with telling you’ll that this post is part of last month’s travel series to Coorg but I saved it for this month instead because we thought of doing a military inspired and independent women series all of August.
As is with a lot of my garments, they have a story to them. This one is of impulsive purchase, as is with a lot of my garments too. The only reason I picked this orange blazer was because of its gold, military inspired buttons.
There’s something that goes click inside of me when I see military inspired clothing and that’s probably because of my dad being an ex-army officer. I swoon at large round buttons, olive greens and gold brocade badges interspersed with red. A complete uniformed look might even give me sleepless nights and lover’s dreams. I am yet to find that one perfect military blazer but until then, the rest of these minions will have to do. Like this orange blazer. That came perfectly in handy in the cold weather of Coorg and went well with my all-black garb.
The post is also a perfect juxtaposition between my love for travel and my equal love for uniforms and what it signifies. As a child, I was made to travel, yes, forced sometimes, by my dad to get in with him in our army gypsy and go with him to all the towns, villages and hill-stations that he had to do a recce at or avert anti-national activities with. Yep, like men on a mission, we loaded our car and took to the winding roads of hills for three years, then the never-ending plains for another three, with him in uniform with all his intimidating glory charaded over a man with a heart with the desire to have his daughter see the world and explore more.
All these years of constant moving, shifting and seeing the most desolate, interior parts of India have instilled in me the desperate need to travel as and when I can. And even now when I do, I reminisce of those days when I popped my head out of the gypsy windows, and sang loudly to the passing trees, songs of Asha Bhonsle in between voluptuous puking.
Photos by Sindhur Reddy
Wearing : Dress and leggings : Thrifted
Take A Bow