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When I found a nondescript chit of paper in my post box telling me I had a parcel waiting for me at the local post office, I was a bit excited. Receiving parcels has always been a big thing… remnants of my boarding school days when a care package meant “FOOD”. So I rushed to the PO and found this three feet-long black St. John’s ‘click’ umbrella, with its shiny but broken and lopsided silver curved handle! Not a crumb in sight! My brother had sent it back to India from the U.S, in a fit of rage, because India Post had seen fit to deliver him damaged goods. On his previous visit to his home country, he had spotted this Mary Poppins ‘ic’ umbrella resting regally in the umbrella shop. Visions of it joining his “many-splendoured” umbrella stand back home had him reaching out for his wallet. But since the strict ‘one-hand baggage only’ prevails on international flights, he had a brain wave. Send the treasure by hamara India Post!

Unfortunately, his misplaced patriotism dashed his hopes of ever “dancing in the rain”. The umbrella came to him broken and abused. Not even a spoonful of sugar could dissuade him from his act of defiance.

But the moment I saw it, I knew I was on to a good thing. Why go back to the store for a showdown with the shopkeeper who would anyway deny he had sold such an inferior item from his “quality” stock. After all, the umbrella industry is a heavily guarded and large one and don’t we know it. Competitors fight tooth and nail to retain or grab each other’s territory, not to talk about competition from China. There is certainly more to umbrellas than bits of steel and synthetic, here. This essential accessory in one’s wardrobe prompts one to think that umbrella haute couture hasn’t quite reached its zenith.

The market as it exists today is potential enough and given that at least two members in a family lose their umbrellas every week, you don’t need a statistician to tell you the tremendous market opportunity.

And we closet fashionistas won’t be seen dead with an outdated style, would we? It is de rigueur to get a new one each year — shopping for it is a thrill in itself. Umbrellas from your second aunt in Singapore, the ones that folded smartly to fit into a woman’s purse, are history. Now you wear them out, flaunt and preen, as you add that extra swing to your stride.

As I looked down on the item in question, I knew that here, at last, was an “item number” that could set a stamp on my style. So what if it stood well above my waist, even with its skewed handle. So what if it cost me a few hundred rupees to repair the handle to make it look as good as new. The day I sailed into office with the restored umbrella slung over my slightly raised left forearm, very like draping a sari pallu over the arm, I was the centre stage.

I had perceived the umbrella-effect even while crossing the road. Vehicles ground to a halt, Romeos whistled and style icons couldn’t drag their eyes off it! I got the same reception indoors. Just as I hung the gleaming accessory over my cabin door, my colleagues couldn’t resist the pull. They stopped by to run a gentle hand over its graceful contours. They raised it above shoulder level to hear its unmistakable click as it opened wide.

They turned it this way and that. They strolled around with it… all of which helped elevate my style quotient one notch higher.

It also opened doors to conversation; it brought back memories of erstwhile days and sepia-toned photographs of aged ancestors standing upright with the help of similar-styled umbrellas. Most of all, it invited a sorority, an umbrella brotherhood, that awakened aesthetic appreciation of the simple things in life.

LITTA JACOB

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