Its festive season in Kerala. Brands vie with one another to catch attention and the moolah. A visit to the Mall with a visiting niece the other day was interesting. The Wrangler Showroom had a Buy One Get ONe FREE offer. In we walked. The trim niece started to try out a few outfits. A particular one was a bit oversize for her. The outfit was a perfect piece. I gave in to temptation of trying it on. For people who don't know me, let be give a brief description of self.
Almost forty, Greying hair left unkempt, getting into classic pear shape, a very rotund face , a bit shy of 5'6"', mostly clad in baggy salwars to hide unpleasant curves.
But human....so gave in to temptation
The layout of the store was longish with the trial rooms wedged into a corner. A mirror was kept outside the rooms too.
I tried it on, rather pushed myself in, took one look at the mirror. A nice little pillow stared back at me. Displeased, dejected, I took it off. When I opened the door, the niece saw me in the baggy salwar suit.
"Didn't you try it on? Doesn't it fit?"
Miffed, I replied, " It fits but looks odd on a pair of salwars. Let's get a pair of Jeans to go with that"
I gesture to the attendant," Can you get me the largest pair of Jeans"
He hands me a pair of tight fit white jeans size 34 and has a devil's smirk
I choose not to notice. I walk back in, try to pull up the horrible pair, but can’t get even beyond the knee. Sad, I get back into the salwars, with the nice chequered top on and peep out. My niece has a peculiar look much like a rotten tomato. I scamper back into the comfort of trial room.
After this exercise, we choose another top for her, pay for one and get out and move to the music cum books store where hubby and sons are whiling the time away. I tell them about the offer and soon the whole bandwagon makes a beeline to the store. Now hubby dear is pot bellied 6’ foot guy who has this habit of asking for T shirts with pocket at the most trendiest of stores. He started with that and as usual got a negative for an answer.
Son and Hubby tried on different shirts. One of those had one button blue and rest red. I remarked, “Wrangler tailor made a mistake”. The attendant who might have surmised that we were a band of illiterate lots filled in with passion.
“Wrangler means a Cowboy”
“Yeah much like our Lord Krishna, the Gwala,” I filled in jokingly.
The attendant looked hurt.
Now, that’s Brand Identity.
Almost forty, Greying hair left unkempt, getting into classic pear shape, a very rotund face , a bit shy of 5'6"', mostly clad in baggy salwars to hide unpleasant curves.
But human....so gave in to temptation
The layout of the store was longish with the trial rooms wedged into a corner. A mirror was kept outside the rooms too.
I tried it on, rather pushed myself in, took one look at the mirror. A nice little pillow stared back at me. Displeased, dejected, I took it off. When I opened the door, the niece saw me in the baggy salwar suit.
"Didn't you try it on? Doesn't it fit?"
Miffed, I replied, " It fits but looks odd on a pair of salwars. Let's get a pair of Jeans to go with that"
I gesture to the attendant," Can you get me the largest pair of Jeans"
He hands me a pair of tight fit white jeans size 34 and has a devil's smirk
I choose not to notice. I walk back in, try to pull up the horrible pair, but can’t get even beyond the knee. Sad, I get back into the salwars, with the nice chequered top on and peep out. My niece has a peculiar look much like a rotten tomato. I scamper back into the comfort of trial room.
After this exercise, we choose another top for her, pay for one and get out and move to the music cum books store where hubby and sons are whiling the time away. I tell them about the offer and soon the whole bandwagon makes a beeline to the store. Now hubby dear is pot bellied 6’ foot guy who has this habit of asking for T shirts with pocket at the most trendiest of stores. He started with that and as usual got a negative for an answer.
Son and Hubby tried on different shirts. One of those had one button blue and rest red. I remarked, “Wrangler tailor made a mistake”. The attendant who might have surmised that we were a band of illiterate lots filled in with passion.
“Wrangler means a Cowboy”
“Yeah much like our Lord Krishna, the Gwala,” I filled in jokingly.
The attendant looked hurt.
Now, that’s Brand Identity.
