I was in baju kurung on Wednesday.
I had a reason to be. Actually, a couple of reasons to don the outfit.
One, it was because the baju kurung was the only outfit I could think of in the morning that didn’t require ironing.
Second, we had a trainer who came from the states, and she wanted to see how a ‘Bajoo Koorroong’ is like.
So I wore my favorite baju kurung, the one with the elaborate golden brownish flowers, the perpel one.
Being that I was not able to surf the net properly yesterday as I was rushing to KLCC to entertain our trainer, I decided to drive to The Curve for a shot of coffee and time out alone.
I was in the mood for cigarettes that evening, so I smoked.
In my baju kurung Johor, in my ‘gadis melayu yang ayu’ persona.
I decided that I want to observe how would other people see me, someone who could be a Malay and who could be something other than Malay (Chinese, Chindian, Iban even.) who was clad in a baju kurung, who was puffing away expertly.
The fact of the matter was, I am in KL, and like how a friend with whom I was chatting with told me, me smoking is nothing compared to someone she knows who drank a glass of wine in the same outfit.
I surprised myself when I said that I still have respect for the demure costume. Somehow, the ‘baju kurung Johor’ is my heritage. I would never deny my state. I am your true blue Johorean who loves being one, and is proud of the state that I have lived in most of my life.
While some people let go of their state once they moved to KL and deemed themselves as KL-lites, I don't and I won’t. Basically, if we are to be truly politically correct and accurate, no one could call themselves a KL-lite unless they were born in KL.
So being that, I simply could not relate to how someone I know who was originally from Kuala Lipis told me that she is now a full fledge KL-lite and would never even want to mention the other KL.
I tell people every so often that I am not a KL-lite, will never be. I am first and foremostly a Johorean who loves Zapin, who loves Ghazal, who loves being a Johorean. Who is so fussy about her baju kurung that I must simply make sure everything about my baju kurung is every bit Johorean, the Pesak, the tulang belut stitching at the neck line, everything.
I guess, there is something about myself that I could never quite get. While I am your everyday fun loving person who people would call, modernized, possibly even westernized, I am still every bit traditional and old fashioned at heart.
Yeap, from smoking in baju kurung to being a hardcore traditionalist, it seemed like Sarcy is getting more merapek by the day when it comes to blogging.
Maybe my brain is still trying to adjust to the reality that right now I am back in KL and life kind of starts itself on a new note.
Bear with me now.