The outfit I remember best is what I wore to my elder sister's wedding in Dhaka about three years ago. I was twenty-one, still at university, and I was one of the bridesmaids, so I had to look the part.
I wore a sari in a deep green colour with a gold border, and the pallu, the long end that goes over the shoulder, was covered in tiny embroidered flowers. With it I wore a short-sleeved blouse in the same green, gold bangles that belonged to my grandmother, and a pair of earrings that my sister bought for me. My hair was tied up with fresh jasmine flowers, which smelled wonderful all evening.
Choosing it was a real family project. My sister wanted all the bridesmaids to match, so the five of us went to a famous sari market together. We spent an entire Saturday there, arguing over colours and drinking far too much tea. The blouse was then made by a tailor near our house, who needed three fittings because I kept losing weight from all the wedding stress.
I remember wearing it for several reasons. It was the first time I'd worn a proper silk sari for a whole day, and I was nervous about it falling down, so my mother pinned it in about ten places. I also felt more grown up and elegant than I'd ever felt before. But mainly it's because of the day itself. Whenever I look at the photos, I see my sister happy, my family all together, and my grandmother's bangles on my wrists. The sari is now carefully folded in my wardrobe, and I'm keeping it for my own daughter one day.