In the May of 1988, 28-year-old Wendell Rodricks walked into the Yves Saint Laurent store in Paris, portfolio in hand, hoping for a job. An elegant lady smiled at him, her lips a YSL hot pink, and retorted, “You have talent, Monsieur Rodricks. It is obvious you will be a good designer. But I have a question. Why can’t I see your fabulous country in your clothes?” Telling the eager design student that “Monsieur Saint Laurent can design these dresses, jackets and gowns”, the lady showed him the door. It was at that moment, looking at the Eiffel Tower with tear-blurred eyes, that Mr Rodricks realised, “I had to put India into my clothes. I needed to go back to my country.”
It is these little memories that make up the narrative of The Green Room, Mr Rodricks’ much-anticipated autobiography. On the flap, the book makes a rather sweeping claim: “The Green Room is not just the story of one man but also of the evolution of Indian fashion industry over twenty-five years.” Although it is littered with anecdotes and incidents that have shaped the Indian fashion industry as it stands today, The Green Room is simply the story of one man alone. And Mr Rodricks bares it all, giving the reader a guided tour, not of the hierarchical world of fashion, but of his own fascinating journey over 20 years.
For about a third of the book, the narrative is like a travelogue, with detailed descriptions of Mr Rodricks’ travels across the world — from growing up in a Catholic colony in a “glorified chawl, typical of Bombay” in the sixties to working in The Royal Oman Police Officers’ Club in Muscat; holidaying in London, Belgium and France to settling down in his present home, the Casa Dona Maria in Colvale, a restored Goan villa. As he describes his thirst for travel and his desire to learn about myriad cultures and lifestyles, one wonders: how did a gangly man who worked in the hospitality industry for years become one of the most respected Indian fashion designers of today? An accident as a child involving a sewing machine still haunts him. The needle went through his fingernail and pierced the finger. Little Wendell watched transfixed as “A ruby droplet glistened on my nail, then spread across it like nail polish”. While he was banned from touching the machine for many years, the incident came back in vivid detail when he studied fashion in Los Angeles, we are told.
Mr Rodricks is a master raconteur. He uses wry humour and hyperbole to make his little stories interesting. So when former Miss India Universe and now actor Lara Dutta remarked that he tells the most charming stories, Mr Rodricks felt encouraged to write this book. He recounts the time he was too nervous to serve water to the enigmatic J R D Tata and had to settle with two “yes, sirs” in the name of conversation; his first flirtation with design was buffet frills for a function at a five-star hotel; the stutter that marked the majority of his adolescence went away after he met his partner Jerome Marrel in 1983.
Mr Rodricks’ relationship with Mr Marrel and its impact on the designer’s life occupy a pivotal place in his book as well as his success in fashion. Mr Rodricks describes the blind date with his future partner. “I did not care much for the too-tight-at-the-thighs trousers … I sat in the lobby for half an hour, trying my best to ignore Mr White Shoes. No way was I going to break the ice.” The white shoes, remarks Mr Rodricks, were thrown away the moment the men began dating. The couple signed the Pacte Civil de Solidarite in 2002.
Mr Rodricks’ ability to remember names, locations, dates and incidents makes his personal story an engaging read. Yet, the reader struggles to keep up with his exciting travels and collections — many aren’t told chronologically. The narrative also points out known secrets about retouched photographs, plastic surgeries and idle gossip.
However, unlike the dark underbelly exposed in popular culture, Mr Rodricks paints a rather refreshing portrait of the fashion industry. He expresses gratitude to the grand dame of fashion, Jeannie Naoroji (“If Shobhaa De knows how to make an entry in a room, credit goes to Jeannie.”); fashion writer Meher Castelino (“godmother”), who pushed his case to become the first Indian designer to show at IGEDO in Dusseldorf, the world’s largest garment fair. When Mr Rodricks entered the green room as a designer with his debut collection inspired by tribal life, his friends cheered him on like “proud parents”.
It is upon Mr Rodricks’ return to India after intensive training in design in LA and Paris in 1988 that the book actually dives head first into the world of fashion. Mr Rodricks weaves his achievements into the story, cleverly opting for diplomacy and humility. He recounts wiping off the tears of a young Aishwarya Rai who was being bullied by senior models for stealing their thunder. He discovered Deepika Padukone and convinced her to take up modelling. Mr Rodricks’ red-and-white checked Kunbi sari has received letters of praise from Sonia Gandhi, Pratibha Patil and Sheila Dixit.
His writing is crisp, gripping and breezy. His travels across the world lend him an accurate understanding of culture, fashion and food — three subjects that comprise a majority of his personal story. While the book is not an investigative reading of the evolution of Indian fashion, it is the story of a middle-class openly gay man who has played an integral role in shaping the landscape of Indian fashion.
THE GREEN ROOM
Wendell Rodricks
Rain Tree
354 pages; Rs 595
