The Bengali Aunty Nightie: A Garment, A Lifestyle

There are many unsolved mysteries in the universe. What existed before the Big Bang? Where do missing Tupperware lids go? Where is that second pair of sock perpetually disappearing to? And perhaps most importantly…at what exact point does a Bengali woman permanently transition into a nightie wearing aunty or a Maashima/Kakima for those who would prefer the Bangla terminology. 

Scientists don’t know. Historians refuse to comment. Sociologists are afraid of retaliation from their mothers. But one thing is clear: the Bengali aunty nightie is not clothing. It is an essential fabric (pun absolutely intended) of our identity. Whether one wears it or not. 

Every Bengali girl grows up watching it happen; the great transformation. One day, your mother is wearing crisp taant aka handloom saris, usually sleeveless blouses and the requisite matching bindis. Then suddenly — usually after marriage, childbirth, or one particularly traumatic summer power cut — she disappears into the soft floral rabbit hole of the nightie ecosystem. And she never fully returns.

At first it is “just for comfort at home.” And then the growth is exponential…inside the building, then downstairs, then to the local dokaan (small stores). Absolutely essential steps in this evolution are receiving the gas cylinder, supervising the  fish purchases with stringent authority and discussing the summer heat with the neighbors from the balcony. Eventually, the nightie achieves the status of becoming a State of Being. 

For those who might feel this blog post is full of exaggerations or snark, let me assure you that is not the case at all. In fact, quite like Maslow’s Theory, there’s a near-pyramidal structure to the Bengali Nightie. The nighties are not all the same. Here they are in chronological order:

Level 1: The Daily Combat Nightie

Faded flowers. Slight turmeric stain. Pocket containing spare change et al. One rubber band or a safety pin depending upon what rocks your boat. This garment is strained by the emotional burden of the daily decisions of meal planning and cooking for  the entire family. This nightie is battle weary and still has enough juice to power up two such aunties.

Level 2: The “Lok Ashbe” Nightie a.k.a Suitable for ‘Proper ‘visitors and not just vendors

This nightie has usually been purchased from a store with a roof and walls and not just the sidewalk hawker at Gariahat. It is cleaner, not as see-through and most often has a slight lace near the sleeves. The lace and piping are essential since it sets it apart from the hoi polloi of the run of the mill nighties and gives it a slightly more elevated status. It is primarily reserved for engaging with the white collar junta. 

Level 3: The Pujo Morning Nightie

Usually donned post bath, this nightie comes with wet hair, flaky patches of Nycil or Pond’s Dreamflower talc on the neck and chin and needs to keep up with the energy of the hausfrau who is on a mission to get *her* day started. Till now it’s all been must-dos and for the sake of the familia but now, it’s her time to take it easy while she takes care of business.

Let’s move onto the aesthetics now. Or the lack thereof because no one really knows who designs these nighties. Much like the elves who made the shoes for the shoemaker in the dead of the night, there seem to be textile masterminds who have a fetish for giant pansies, roses or floral prints which look like optical illusions and a veritable geometric confusion of colors which don’t hurt the eyes but do make one wonder at the surplus of mustard and lavender and a red which inevitably fades after 3 washes.  Does it look like a giant sofa cover from days gone by, certainly! But will it outlive said sofa for 3 generations and still be around to tell the tale? You better believe it!

There’s a design genius in it as well. You could be stick-thin, pleasantly plump or defy categorization of dimensions and the nightie seller will sell you the free-size nightie which apparently transcends all body types, seasons, social class and occasionally laws of physics.

Bengali women have been practising repurposing and reusing the nightie for aeons; much before sustainability became an internet buzzword. A nightie will be worn to the point of threadbareness but the nightie wearer will only discard it once she determines which particular chore that nightie can be transitioned to- drying dishes, wiping glass tables and windows or as a duster for the delicate home items where a heavy hand and coarse duster just won’t do. So you can keep your microfiber cloths because nothing will be as effective as a hand-me-down nightie that has been cut up into pieces and lovingly kept aside to be used in times of household requirements and emergencies.

So all the naysayers and nose-in-air couture-loving people…invest in the nightie. It’s an investment in yourself. And for the best deals, look up your neighborhood Bengali aunty who will make sure you look like a floral explosion while you lounge in soft cottony comfort for the next 20 years. 

Nuff said.