Badshar Bazaar

What a magical place.
Sipping on little chai teas. Rows of amazing, colorful Indian fabrics. Sparkles. SF girls: where are you?


On my first day in Mysore, Naomi and I walk to breakfast. I'm wearing 3/4 length pants and a T-shirt. Everyone is staring. It's like the real life version of the "I'm naked at school dream" we've all had once. Or maybe just me. Anyway. In India, women are to cover up their legs, arms, and especially shoulders. Crop-tops exposing the belly and sides, on the other hand, are totally fine. Don't ask me. I'm burning with embarrassment that the bottom part of my legs is showing. After breakfast, I realize that the stares also probably had a lot to do with my blonde hair and the fact that i'm, you know, a solid 6 inches taller than the norm.

Regardless, it was time to go shopping for Indian clothes. We venture to downtown Mysore where the streets are bustling. There, we walk into Badsha Bazaar, and up the steps to the second floor where hundreds of tunic garments are pulled from the shelves for viewing. Meet Shoib: business man, garment seller, cultural guru, Leo rising.

And then he tells me, "Jana. You're in India. You should express yourself from the inside out. Wear what makes you feel good." Right on, Shoib.