BUYING KIRAS

Bhutanese Dress

Already having a closet full of ethnic attire, I resisted the temptation to add a Bhutanese ensemble to a growing collection of beautiful but unwearable clothes. It is not just the grace of the floor length kira skirt with its perfect side pleat or the shiny material of the boxy jacket, the taego that convinces a western woman that this might just be the ethnic statement she was born to make. It's the combinations of colors and patterns meant to complement, not match, that lets one think of clothes in a completely new frame. Basic black is not a Bhutanese concept.

Buying my Kira

The first jacket I picked up at the wholesaler was shiny purple brocade with a pattern of gold, orange and turquoise flowers. Busy and gaudy, it was exactly what I wanted. The shop women laid a thin silky turquoise wonju, under blouse, over the taego, that perfectly picked up the turquoise in the flowers. The wonju's fabric is self-patterned with sprawling dragons. The half kira I chose is horizontally striped in blue, purple, black, orange, gray, and maroon with embroidered yellow-gold highlights. All these colors allow a kira to be matched with an assortment of jackets and blouses in combinations that go beyond anything I had been taught was acceptable.
Trying the clothes on in the middle of the store over my staid black, I felt daring--breaking every rule of the "clothes police". Who would have thought of such wild combinations? And there were so many more I could have taken.

Learning to wear the clothes

When I brought the package back to the apartment to show Judy, I couldn't remember how to tie the kira. It all has to be done in a special way, with the pleat on the right. Half dressed I asked the woman across the hall to show me. It is still a chore and when I wore it to the hospital the female orthopaedic techs shook their heads and re-did it.

Judy's Kira

Our friend, Nicola, helped Judy find her kira at a different wholesaler, a huge store with a choice that went on and on. After Judy's first purchase, she bought taegos for her sisters, another 2 for herself and has ended with a stunning collection of brocaded jackets that will make her the bell of any ball.

Last Sunday we returned to the fabric wholesaler, what we now call the kira shop. After four or five visits, we have become well known to the proprietor and so familiar with the merchandise, that we simply walk behind the counter, pullout the taegos, line them up on the counter and start matching them with silky wonjus and the bolts of kira fabric. We like to think we've developed the eye, the "Bhutanese eye" that looks at the color and pattern combinations and finds symmetry in amazing combinations.

The French Connection

A woman and two men chilups, French chilups, came into the store with a guide who was assisting them in clothes buying. The store's proprietor helped the men buy ghos, the men's belted national dress. Judy and I had the pleasure of showing the woman how to tie and pleat a half kira. We directed her in choosing a "Bhutanese color combination" that made her all black coat, pants, sweater and boots stand-up and cheer. After choosing their ghos, the men took interest in buying ensembles for their wives. Everyone left the "Kira Shop" with something. For Judy and me, we had the fun of mixing and matching, putting colors and patterns together, without paying.