Guilt

I feel bad. My mother bought a... I don't even know what to call it, a flowy baju kurung-type thing but more casual for me and I couldn't help but show my dislike for it.

The whole suit is a dark grey with two blue and light grey ribbon-like stripes kind of flowing down the side. The top extends to my knees and it's translucent, and could actually work with pants. But it really doesn't look spectacular in any way to me.

She asked me if I liked it and I said it was ok, and she said, ok only? and I said, yeah, it's nothing special and she said, it costs 150 dollars! and I said, what the hell?!

She kept insisting that this type of clothing was currently in fashion, and I kept replying that I didn't want to look like every goddamn minah in a headscarf. No offense to you if you're one of these girls, but it looks like the kind of thing that would be worn by one of those tudung girls who wear make-up and long skirts and whom everyone describes as "sweet". And, like, hello, I wear stripes or sweaters with drawings of animals on them. I only wear short skirts. I don't do flowy. I definitely don't do sweet.

After rejecting it, I felt bad so I ran out after my mother and said ok ok, I'll wear it to work with pants. Then she said, what about the skirt? I said, I'll wear it to weddings and shit and hari raya next year. And she said, so you'll just wear it once or twice and I'm like, how often do you want me to wear it woman?

Then she made me try it on, and I pointed out that once I put on my headscarf the pretty design bit at the chest will be covered anyway and she said, forget it I'll try to find someone to buy it from me.

So yeah, I feel bad. But I also have to wonder what registers in the head of a woman who has lived with me for 24 years and sees me go to work everyday and washes all my clothes and STILL doesn't know what my taste in clothes run to.

I guess it's understandable, she being the same woman who passes by my bedroom everyday and sees how one entire wall is almost entirely covered with books but still thinks that what I do alone in my room will somehow lead to pregnancy.

Fuck lah. How am I supposed to compensate for this? Oh, I know. Let her handle my wedding couture, 100 percent.

I am already crying at the horror of the thought.