Other Side of the City: Rainbow nation at Leelas

“At least, we’ll get something decent to eat here in Lenz”, she’d pronounced, as we swept out of the home of hundreds of glorious clothes.

A redhead friend told me that whiteys in saris look ridiculous. I sometimes wear a pale green, floppy floral one. It’s true that another friend, Jay, told me I’d actually bought “an old-lady sari.”

In the window of Leelas, striding forward, business-like, is a paleskin mannequin in a long, apricot gown. A very dark brown mannequin is in filmy turquoise, veering left. Between, is one whose golden-brownness seems to me representative of traditional sari wearers. Disturbingly, she has been designed with half a head. So much for representation. Her drapes are glowing garnet, silver-trimmed, with fuzzy, silver cherries dangling from her shawl.

Inside Leelas, it’s pale blue heaven – soft, flocked carpets and coyly smiling assistants who refer us to armchairs near the “wedding” area. Here, precious reds, golds and most of the gorgeousness hangs or lies in rich folds on shelves.

Tall, gently spoken Bipin A Desai ambles over. His brother’s wife is the Leela after whom the establishment is named.

He has dressed our TV stars, Hyde Park socialites, Pieter Dirk Uys and an elephant (for a commercial). He dresses current politicians and South African diplomats. He won’t reveal names. He has many African customers using patterned sari lengths for traditional clothes.

BRIGHT: Leelas in Lenasia offers shoppers a technicolour experience. Pictures: Pawel Kot.

Two women in plain black burkas are accompanied up-shop to the wedding section. Surprised, I watch golden, bejewelled punjabis laid out on the counters before them.

Today, smiles my advisor, the latest fashion is less sari-style and more a long, fine-net dress in neon colours, matching leggings underneath. It’s a Bollywood thing. It always is. They also feature their “value added”, in metal embroidery and Swarovski crystals.

Then Ivy and a friend arrive. Ivy seems well-known at Leelas and pays for a patterned sari. It does not sound particularly cheap.

“You see,” says Bipin Desai, introducing Ivy properly, “this lady is Shangaan”. A traditional Shangaan outfit can utilise two halves of half a sari, tied over the bustle-petticpats. A friend uses the two pieces of the other half.

Incidentally, when my grey-punjabi-friend and I had left, on that earlier occasion, we searched Lenz for oriental flavour. We found Russian sausages, Roman pizzas, American burgers, fish and chips. She settled for Nando’s extra peri-peri. This time, when we leave Leelas, we proceed to Bismillah on Gemsbok. Our takeaway menu has been selected by Bipin A Desai for the vegetarian Pawel.

For more information go to leelassaarees.co.za, visit Leelas at 10 Pelikan Ave, Lenasia or phone 011-852-4561.

 Each week Marie-Lais scouts another urban reach, tasting, testing alternative aspects to pique our curiosity about places and people we might have had no idea about.