Stranger’s remark on my dressing that ruined a happy day

I went shopping for curtains last weekend. Eastleigh came highly recommended for the ultimate curtain purchase. The neighbourhood in Nairobi, is known for its booming businesses. You can get anything there – at a good bargain. The Original Ostrich Pillow, the Anatomy Bathing Suit or even the Hen Bag Handbag. And of course, curtains.

So, I enlisted my lifelong friend, Farida, for my curtain hunting trip. After alighting from the mat, it became clear we both are not expert Eastleigh goers.

We crossed the street around Madina Mall and walked down a street before finding our bearing. The streets here are full of people, wheelbarrows holding items for sale, handcarts, people carrying loads on their shoulders and whistling for others to get out of the way, vehicles blaring loud music, and motorbikes. And because all these moving things believe they have the right of way, walking here is really jostling for space.

Bright lights

You will, therefore, understand why we needed to get the curtains and be out as soon as possible.

We arrived at this shop with a high ceiling, nicely hang curtains and bright lights. It was like a curtains supermarket, packed with neatly hang curtains of different colours and patterns. We selected the material and signalled an attendant to come. We agreed on the measurements and number of windows and the calculations started.

My friend David had warned me the night before: “Curtains za Eastleigh ni poa, lakini bei yake ni ya ng’ombe.” (You will get good curtains in Eastleigh but the price is equivalent to that of a cow). These words came to my mind when the attendant shared the final quotation - Sh13,000 and some hundreds. For a split second, I wondered if I needed curtains. Quickly remembering the goal, of having a house that looks like the owner actually earns a salary, I “closed my eyes” and paid.

But my day was ruined. Not by the guy prepping my curtains, or by the fact that I was over Sh13,000 poorer, but by a shop attendant, a man, who came to where we were seated, and asked why I wasn’t as decently dressed as my friend. “Kwa nini hujavaa decent kama rafiki yako?” was his exact question.

Clients

Trying to be as calm as possible, I told him I too had opinions about his dressing; I didn’t think what he was wearing was the best thing ever. I was raised by a diplomatic father and so antagonizing people doesn’t come naturally to me. But I had to say something. It was rather late in life for him to be learning that he can’t go around telling strangers what to wear, but I felt that if his question came from a place of ignorance, I owed him part of my education.

To let him know that people wear what they are comfortable in and it is in bad taste to give subjective advice. Plus, I was a client at the shop; surely making your clients uncomfortable is not the best way to attract new ones. In case you are wondering, I wore a blue pair of jeans, a red T-shirt and red-checked rubber shoes – just how I would dress on a Friday and go for a meeting with my boss.

Conversations about what’s decent dressing are often disproportionately targeted at women. Remember “My Dress, My Choice”?  It is unfortunate that anyone would infantilize women; imagine they don’t know what they want to wear, in this day and age. I think that’s ridiculous.

What would you have done in my shoes?

The writer is the Impact Editor, NMG - [email protected],Twitter @Dnandeche