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TRI Continental Film Festival - Dona Paula, Goa, Sep 28 - Oct 2, 2007
http://www.moviesgoa.org/tricontinental/tricon.htm
For public viewing
Registration at The International Centre Goa Ph: +91 (832) 2452805 to 10
Online Media Partner: http://www.GOANET.org
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OLDEN-DAYS CLOTHING IN GOA – “KASHTTI” – Part 3 (Final)
A petticoat was a must for every female member of the family. Until they
matured, young girls wore a petticoat at home; they also slept with a
petticoat on. It was a must wear under any vistid, skirt, etc.
Females in a well-to-do family, including up-coming Basurkar and Shippie
families, wore a vistid at home. Many used an “askin” or “vaskin” (apron)
over the dress. Do you remember the following lines of the famous Dulpod
“Apttun-dopttun Gho?
Apttun-dopttun gho cheddvan dantem manddilem
Bannxirem nam mhunnon cheddvan askin pinjilem!
Generally, grown-up girls wore a “gagro-buluz” (flare skirt-blouse) and so
did servants at a bhattkarÂ’s place.
Women did not wear brassiere, but they wore a “kurpet” – something similar
to a brassiere, which was home-made.
Panties were a rarity at the time; they were used only occasionally – at
weddings, functions, etc. They were home-made out of cotton cloth.
However, the Basurkar and Shippies introduced Nylon panties.
A blouse was fixed by using kulcheti (metal hooks) and molam (metal pressed
buttons) were used for small children's dresses.
Skirts became slimmer beginning in the late Fifties and, aside from a brief
flirtation with flares, became quite straight, in what became known as the
pencil-skirt look.
The Sixties was also the period when “Katreanche vistid” (dresses with a cut
or slit) became popular. Initially, dresses/skirts were given a small cut
at the back to facilitate walking in straightjacket-type dresses/skirts.
Gradually, the cut went on increasing until inner thighs could be seen from
behind.
Eventually, the hind cut was shifted to sideways – at first on one side and
then on both sides, which again went on increasing until one got clear view
of side thighs.
Goan girls and women had one problem with this fashion - they had difficulty
in climbing up the step of a bus which was quite high. Sometimes, when the
dress stretched an extra inch, the cut gave way “ferench korun”, thus
putting the person in an embarrassing situation.
Permanent box-pleats were popular in the early Sixties, as were reversible
skirts.
Many of the fashions, of the Sixties existed because of the fabrics like
Polyamide (Nylon), Polyesters, Polyurethanes, Polyvinyl, etc.
In Goa, menÂ’s fashion then was to wear a Terylene shirt on a Gabardine or
Dacron or Trevira pant, and young girls as well as married women proudly
wore Nylon petticoats and dresses.
Overall, the Sixties were known as Mini-Skirt decade. Who can forget those
days when legs were bared in mini-skirts that rose as high as eight to nine
inches above the knee? If a girl bent down, her rear was exposed; when she
sat down, one could see the color of her panties.
The late Sixties saw the introduction of the tent dress or baby doll dress
in transparent chiffon, worn over a contrasting slip, often sewn-in,
followed by the paper dress.
When girls participated in jive dance, those who wore can-can-type dress,
when they swung and turned around, the dress went up like Marilyn MonroeÂ’s
revealing the underwear at which elderly women remarked: “Saiba bhogos,
tachi ched’di pasun disli; tannem tambddi ched’di ghatlea mungho!” (Lord
forgive, even her panties can be seen; she has worn red panties!) Mind you
the Goan public was at the time God-fearing and conservative and did not
tolerate immodesty.
Straight skirts had front and back inverted pleats called kick pleats and
were ideal for doing the twist dance craze as they allowed the knee to move
freely.
Speaking of Rock-n-Roll and Jive dance, my neighbor, Joaquim Mariano
Fernandes aka Jaki Mari was one of the best rock-n-rollers of the Fifties
and Sixties. In his hey-days, he bagged many prizes in dance competitions
in Poona. Although he is 75 years old, he still competes with the
youngsters in Rock-n-Roll and/or Jive dances.
Our tiatrists always convey a message to the public through their songs.
Here are the lyrics of a very old song titled: “NAILONANCHEM LUGOTT” by the
late Jacinto Vaz, who was popularly known as ‘Charlie Chaplin’ of Konkani
stage. The song deals with the morality of dress in the Fifties and
Sixties, when nylon dresses were in fashion:
I
Chintlear adleam zantteanchem, nhesop rith-mannsugechem
Atanchim bhurgim nestat tem, nhesop num re sonspachem
Padri babdde bob martat, konn aikota padrinchem
Igorjen nailon nestoch, mis pirdear dusreachem
Chorus
Adleo voli, kapddam nhesop amchem khuim ghelam
Atam nailon saddi, pottar ugttim bulozam
Vistid ani xinvtat, mhodekot zonelam
Tem mista dorjeanim, varem vochonk kelam
II
Nailonanchem lugott, konnem babddean kaddlem ghai
Nailon angak ghaltoch, khuim pavlea ti dista sai
Maim-pai khoxen bhorta, kaiborem mhuntta dista bai
Dhuvek nailonancho vistid ani mainkui saddi zai
Chorus
Hea modinchem chintun, ragan kalliz sizta
Nailon nestokoch, cheddvank boreak poddta mista
Lugottui chodd borem, hathan dhorlear pinzta
Nailon nestoch, magir zovieo pasun dista
III
Zaitea cheddvancheo, aileat moje lagim kexi
Kaibori kudd soboita, lugott tem amchem dexi
Noveo-noveo modi korun, sang bhoinnim khuimsor vexi
Nailon nestat tea cheddvank, zatat apendexi
Chorus
Anik ek urlam mojem bailank sangpachem
Matxem tumi bond korat tem pott dakovpachem
Igorjen mhuntta tem, nhesop mannsukechem
Pottak tea poilear dista tuxin dukrachem.
(From DomÂ’s antique shelf)
The mini-skirt caught up so well with Goan females, particularly youngsters
during the Sixties, that it became an obsession to reveal as much of their
legs as they possibly could. Besides wearing mini-skirt at work and as
casual wear, they also wore it at church, thus causing great disturbance to
church authorities and the congregation.
When I visited my friend in Curtorim in 1968, the Padr Vigar preached the
following at the Sunday Mass sermon. This was during the period when mini
dresses/skirts were in fashion. They were so short that as one of the
Konkani comedian singers puts it in one of his songs “Bardez thavn Saxtti
dista!” (You can see Salcete from Bardez!) The Padr Vigar had reached a
point where he decided to send a strong message to the women folk. As he
preached, he connected his point and said: (The sermon was in Salcete
Konkani dialect. I have tried to reproduce it in its original form.)
“Tumi cheddvam/bailo cheddeam/dadleam patkam ghatai. Cheddvam itu-u
(pointing middle of his thighs) moddie istid ghatai ani dadule tenghe paieam
choitori istid esh korn oddum suru kortaii. Agho, istid oddlear kit to lamb
zatolo? Dorjean titulo-o xinvla to! Ani bailo mhunn kit tumi unneo torii?
Itu-u sokol buluzam ghatai ani dadleam nodor ting poddttori maghir oddÂ’ddear
esh korn saddie palov oddttai. Hem tumghe kortub zobor nhum - dadleam
patkam ghalpachem. Tea passot hanv sangot tem borem korn aikaii. Tumgem
nhesop zaum dhi moriadichem odik korn jednam tumi Igorje ietai tedonnam.
(You girls and women lead boys/men into temptation. Girls wear so short
dresses (pointing to his thighs) and when men look at their legs, they pull
the dress. If you pull the dress is it going to become any longer? The
tailor has stitched it as much as it is. And women are not less. You wear
low neck blouses and when menÂ’s sight goes there, you pull the palu of sari
to cover your chest. This behavior of yours leads men into temptation.
Therefore, listen to me carefully. Dress up modestly, especially when you
come to church.)
Obviously, there was gloom on womenÂ’s faces but boys and menÂ’s faces
gleamed. Padr Vigar continued his sermon thus:
“Ani tumi re chedde ani dadule, tumi kit somzotaii? Ar’re sokall huddem
amge Igorje hattlean is (20) kollxe soro haddtaii ani to sogllo soro is
mintti zanvche huddem hopon oita. ArÂ’re tumi sorean naumtaii? Ham, sorean
naumtai re tumi? Maghir tumge bhailo Pad Igara huddeam ietaii ani paiem
poddon sangtaii: “Padigar, ratim amghe ghoram bhitor sortanch hatt huddem
choinastonnam mhak borem hapailem; boro pilo-o to Padigar.” Dekun hanv
sangot tem aikaii. “Tumi soro pinakai esh mhunn hanv tumkam sangnam.
Pieai, pun sonsot tituloch ani jirot tituloch, ani pion bailam tras
dinakai.” Deva-a axirvad tumcher.
(And you boys and men, what do you think of yourselves? Early in the
morning a consignment of 20 pots liquor arrives behind the church and it
gets sold within less than 20 minutes. Do you bathe with liquor? I am
asking you, do you bathe with liquor? Then your wives come to the church,
kneel down before me and complain: ‘Vicar, last night, upon entering the
house, my husband beat me up badly without rhyme or reason; he was drunk,
VicarÂ’. Therefore, listen to what I say. I am not asking you not to drink.
You may drink, but in limits, and donÂ’t trouble your wives. May GodÂ’s
blessings be with you.)
The above may sound like a parody but itÂ’s a true fact. As I learned from
my friend, there was significant improvement both in womenÂ’s dress and menÂ’s
drinking habits after the sermon.
If you want to see the Mini-skirt fashion of the Sixties, watch any
Bollywood movie, which till today depicts the dress in at least one
item-number (song). It is bound to transport you back to the Sixties!
In the Sixties, pleated skirts set on a hip yoke were worn with
short-sleeves over blouses. A-Line skirts that fell about mid-knee were
also common. Many Goan young women wore skirt-blouse combinations as a
preferred, decent dress.
The wear of veils died down and girls/women began to wear colored scarves
while going to church and also while riding a Lambretta or sitting as a
pillion rider.
“Tavier fulam mallunk” (to deck the head with flowers) became a fashion in
the Sixties. Girls tucked on their head either fresh or plastic/paper
flowers.
In the Fifties and Sixties, “nivnneancho xenddo” (lock of hair fixed into a
ring) was in fashion; women preferred it rather than leave their hair loose.
They decked flowers or a garland of jasmine around “xenddo”, especially
when they attended a wedding.
My mother had beautiful long hair. Whenever there was a wedding, I always
did her hair, as I was an expert in fixing a nivnneacho xenddo.
We had a set of five French design “sope” (seats made of stones built like
steps) on either side of the entrance of our house. I sat on the top “sopo”
and my mother on the one below; thus I would be in a good position to handle
her hair.
First, I would comb her hair and prepare a ponytail. Then, I would place
hair into the ring, distribute it evenly and fasten it tightly with a black
cloth ribbon from underneath so the ring with fastened hair stood out firmly
on the head. Loose hair was pushed into the sides and fixed with bop-pins.
Everyone liked and appreciated my motherÂ’s xenddo. When asked who prepared
the xenddo, she would say: “Mojea putan, Domnic-an” (My son, Domnic
prepared it). You can imagine how proud I felt!
Africanders who returned to Goa by the late Sixties brought with them the
following fashion:
- Girls/women wore small plastic decorative hats on their head.
- They covered their face with a transparent piece of tulle.
- They wore hand gloves.
Africa-returned men wore broad, RSS-type khaki shorts and loose
short-sleeved shirts, leather safety shoes with long khaki socks and safari
hat, which we had seen only our ‘carteiro’ (postman) wear during Portuguese
times. Elderly men walked about with a “rot” (walking stick); some
contained a concealed sword.
Females belonging to Gulfee and Shippie families wore pantyhose, which were
also known as tights. It was hard to wear a mini dress with stockings and
feel confident, but with tights there was protection from the elements and
no unsightly glimpse of stocking tops.
LadiesÂ’ sleeve length was usually Âľ lengths, with long sleeves often pushed
partway up the arms for a Âľ look. Sleeveless tops did not become truly
popular until the mid Sixties. Teenage boys, too, wore collarless
kurta-type shirts with Âľ sleeves.
Teenage girls wore broad white, red or black leather/elastic belts; they
tightened them around their waist so tightly like a corset that the belt
would push in the belly and bring out the shape of their waist.
Pointed toe-shoes gave way to chisel shaped toes in the early Sixties and to
an almond toe in the mid-Sixties followed by high heels, which sounded as if
horses were galloping, especially when girls/women walked in churches and
large halls. Before that “chinelam” (small-heeled sandals) were in use. I
remember the following lines from one of S. Lemos’ songs from “Dev Zannam”
audio cassette:
Faleam Goeam Gabru ieta, tuka dhaddun dhitam chinelam
(Gabriel is coming down to Goa tomorrow; I am sending you ‘chinelam’ with
him)
Chinelam ghalun bonvonakai, ugttim ghalun zonelam
(Don’t leave the windows open and roam about with ‘chinelam’)
Hanvem aikolam, Moddgovam konna ekak tum kori sinalam
(I have heard you were signaling at someone in Margao)
Hi khobor tuji aikon baile, hanv chodd sintid zalam
(I am very sad at this news my wife).
Flat boots also became popular with very short dresses in the Sixties and
eventually they rose up the leg and reached the knee.
Dresses and blouses in taffeta cloth were very popular at the time. Colored
piping of the cloth was commonly used on womenÂ’s collars, sleeves, and waist
and even on the hem.
By the Sixties, the Twist, the Shake and the Locomotion ousted the paired
dancing couples of earlier generations. Only for the last few dances of the
evening was the smooch allowed for couples to romantically hold each other
as they made their play to walk a partner home.
In the Seventies, ladies-suit fashion became quite common in Goa. Girls and
women used it as casual dress at parties and weddings. Working class
females used it at work as well. Do you remember the following lines of
Antonette Mendes’ Konkani song “Mottoch Zalo Gathu” of the Sixties?
Voilean cheddum borem disot tor – chedde mhunnttai ‘boro shirt piece’
(If a girl’s bosom looks good, boys say ‘good shirt piece)
Bhendd tangelem oxem halot tor - chedde mhunttai ‘boro pant piece’
(If she moves her waist like this, boys say ‘good pant piece’)
Punn atanchim cheddvam kaichea-kai sarkinch distai re cut-piece
(But todayÂ’s girls are nonsense, they look like cut-piece)
Vogot boro asot tugelo
(If your timing is good)
Poti tum zatolo mungelo
(You will become my husband)
Noxiban tuka metÂ’tolo, kaiboro ho suit piece!
(If you are lucky, you will get this nice suit piece)
As most everyone knows, Antonette in her hey-days was a real suit-piece –
from top to bottom!
Nowadays, men’s fashion is to wear everything loose – Bermuda-style shorts,
loose baggy-trousers, loose (almost double the size) shirts/T-shirts, etc.
In the past, clothes had to fit one’s body – a pant had to fit on the waist;
the stitching on joints of sleeves had to rest exactly on shoulder fall. If
anyone was seen wearing a loose shirt or pant, they would comment: “Ar’re,
paichem kalsanv/khomis ghatlam kitem re?” (Hey, have you worn your father’s
pant/shirt?) In fact, most children in those days wore fathersÂ’ or elder
brothers’ clothing – nothing was wasted or thrown away. Those who could not
afford clothes wore “magon haddleli nhesonn” (borrowed clothes).
The humorous comedian-actor-singer, H. Briton, brought all types of womenÂ’s
fashion on the Konkani stage through his songs – be it hair-style,
midi-skirt, skirt-blouse, long-skirt, pencil-skirt, tight-skirt with slit,
mini-skirt, jeans, corduroy, low-waist sari with deep neckline blouse,
high-heel shoes, slacks, Ray-Ban sunglasses, colored umbrellas, Nylon
petticoat/dress, Nylon sari – you name it. He is one of the best sources
available for commenting on ladies fashion from the Sixties to the Nineties!
New fashions come and go but the one fashion that hasnÂ’t changed to date is
fisherwomenÂ’s clothing. I salute them for maintaining their unique style of
wearing the reddish color kapodd with flower designs and a matching blouse.
Whether fish is carried as a head-load or transported in a vehicle,
fisherwomen always turn their kapodd into a kashtto. While girls may wear
wire-brassiere to enhance their assets, fisherwomen get the same or better
effect by wearing a tightly stitched blouse with deep neckline, which serves
as an attraction to customers, who enjoy the view while standing and
bargaining fish with them. Sometimes one feels as if they put some “ventoz”
(cupping effect).
In my younger days when I used to visit my cousins in Calangute, some
mischievous boys would tease young fisherwomen while they walked briskly
with fish basket on their head: “Agho polle, bhav-bhav zogoddttat!” (Hey,
look - brothers are fighting each other!)
A “konngekarn” (sweet-potato vendor) also follows more or less the same
dress code as that of a fisherwoman.
The Kunnbi women wear red-color-checked-kapodd, which they drape differently
than a sari/kapodd. Instead of placing the paluv on the shoulder, it covers
the chest vertically. In the past, Kunnbi women did not wear a “cholli”
during the summer – they used a stanapatta. They wore ornaments made from
alloys as well as gold. ItÂ’s a pity today Rajastani women who also wear
clothes and ornaments like our Kunnbis are mistaken for the original tribe
and presented as Kunnbis.
Fashion in Goa, be it clothes or anything else was and is mainly followed by
Christians – Hindus and Muslims adhered and still adhere to their dress
code; of course, there are always exceptions.
Fashion was more popular in Bardez Taluka than in Salcete – no wonder they
say “Bardezkar khavnk ani nhessonk kobar” (Bardez people blow their money on
food and clothing”. That we love to dress is proven by the fact that we now
have an internationally acclaimed fashion designer, Wendell Rodricks, who
hails from Colvale in Bardez Taluka.
Just as music runs in GoansÂ’ veins so does fashion. The moment a fashion is
introduced, we follow it and make it part of our lives, but with a price. I
say with a price because fashion obviously costs. We love it so much that
we even go to the extent of borrowing money in order to follow it - just as
we throw a party even if we have to take a loan.
While Christians are spendthrift our Hindu brothers are cautious in money
matters. In the past, when one Rupia consisted of 16 Tangas, Christians
hardly paid any attention to tangas – they just spent it, whereas our Hindu
brothers saved each tanga until it gave them one Rupia, which they put to
better use – to start a small “posro’ (shop). They didn’t discard even a
“poiso”, which was the smallest denomination then. Their thrifty way has
been handed down to generations who continue to follow in their forefathersÂ’
steps thus ensuring prosperity.
This is how most Hindus in Goa turned out to be businessmen and Christians
kept looking for greener pastures either in the Gulf or on the ships or in
the West. We always want to prove to the world that we are better off –
doesnÂ’t matter even if it is by borrowing money!
Here is the difference between a Goan Hindu and a Christian – the former
does not care much for the pompous way of life but the latter derives
pleasure from it and loves to party – the result? While the former keeps
saving, the latter keeps borrowing. How does the latter solve his problem?
He leaves Goa for the Gulf or on a Cruise Liner or settles down in the West
where he earns a lot of money but continues his spendthrift ways.
His habit continues from vacation to vacation - the result? Every time he
is back to square one. So, he continues to be out of Goa!
The Goan society consists mainly of Hindus and Christians followed by
Muslims. Barring recent minor incidents, we have always lived in peace and
harmony. Normally, it was difficult to single out a person but one could
judge he belonged to a particular religion from his clothing:
A Hindu wore a “dhontir/puddvem” (thin muslin-type cloth worn around the
waist, which is tied like a kashtti but itÂ’s long, loose and knee-deep. He
mostly wore a white shirt, which he did not tuck in and wore a coat over
that. He also wore a “Nehru topi” (cap worn by the late Jawaharlal Nehru).
In the olden days, no tiatro or school concert was complete without enacting
a song dressed in a Hindu dress. Some of the tiatrists who dressed as
Hindus and sung songs were M. Boyer, late Alfred Rose, late Rom Tony, late
Bab Peter but the late Champion Peter was the best among them.
A Christian wore a pair of trousers and a shirt, which he tucked in, and a
pair of shoes. He also wore a hat.
A Muslim, too, wore a short/long pant and a shirt but he did not tuck it in;
he wore a vest over it. He also wore a small round “tagiya” (skullcap).
Neither clothing nor fashion identifies us as Goans. The only factor that
binds us together as Goemkar is our mother tongue – the Konkani language!
ThatÂ’s all for now from DomÂ’s antique shelf!
Moi-mogan,
Domnic Fernandes: Author of ‘Domnic's Goa – A nostalgic romp through a
bygone eraÂ’
Anjuna/Dhahran, KSA
Tel: (966 3) 877-2744; Home: (966 3) 876-2676; Mobile: (966 5) 0281-9101
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