The Dress

My mother would always tell me that compliance and submission were the only way to get by.

Living in a Thai household I’ve come to learn and love the traditions put in place by our values and community.

As a young child, It didn’t take much effort to express my love for my culture. At any given chance that I had, I would dress in the Thai traditional attire, known as Chut Thai. The costume is traditionally meant to symbolize femininity and refinement, two words that I knew nothing of, yet still cherished unknowingly. In order to wash it, my mother would practically have to yank it off me, otherwise, there was no other way to get it off.

I never wore it out. The only places we would wear our costumes out would be on celebratory days during Sunday Thai school, or at the Elmhurst Thai temple. We never wore them out with the exception of those specific occasions.

On my first day of preschool, I vividly remember asking my mother if I could wear my costume out. Based on the way she smiled and laughed when I wore it before, I didn’t expect her to utter the words “no, honey you can’t”.

Her words brought the sheer feelings of confusion and… betrayal. At the time I couldn’t understand why she came to such a decision. I remember standing there, feeling dejected and feeling as though I had been pierced in the back with a thousand knives.

I didn’t go to my first day of preschool in my Chut Thai.

Later, as I got older, I realized those knives that I had felt that day were the strains of maintaining a certain image. The image where one had to blend in and avoid any and all attention, to avoid the possibility of receiving any potential judgement.

Those knives are still there to this day. And something I learned much later on in life was that everyone carried them.

I still make a conscious effort to continue and practice all the traditions, and maintain the values of my cultures. However, I have still not to this day, worn my Chut Thai out for the sake of it. Maybe someday soon, that will all change…