When it comes to weddings, my inspiration comes in part from Indian movies, and the rest has been embedded in me by my parents. Be it Bend It Like Beckham or simply the newest glam movie releasing courtesy of Bollywood, there is plenty of inspiration to take from. So as not to assault the conservative sensibilities of Indian society (or more likely, my parents’ own sensibilities, growing up), I was subject to the concerted effort on their part to dress me up with as little skin exposed as aesthetically possible. For every occasion, therefore, movies offered a glitzy palette of choices during my teenage to pre-adult years.

Despite moving to America and my passion for Indian movies and their colorful appeal, my sense of dress has retained its conservatism. While my formal wardrobe consists of blacks and browns, with a few playful pinks and greens mixed in, my social wardrobe continues to retain Indian overtones in my embroidered and print kurtas and long, swishy skirts. Picture the cluelessness then when I am faced with what I have managed to avoid for almost half a decade of American residency: Attending an American wedding.

While many variations of the American wedding have been viewed via the efforts of Hollywood and the WE channel, the occasion to attend one personally has remained unmet till now. Much like the inevitability that comes with an accident, I thought, it can never happen to me till it does. Then, one day, it finally did. After the initial shock wore off, practicality took over. Being inanely practical, this became a project, albeit one that involved significant analysis of my personality.

After realizing that Indian lehengas and saris might end up being a no-go, I decided to use a favorite solution to most problems: Google. Typing in “dresses for wedding guests” gave me a remarkable 234,000 hits, displaying the entire gamut of possibilities from designer to clearance items. After a bewildered inspection of all that lay before me, I quickly chose Macys for some inspiration--the logic being that it was a store I often shopped at, and so should answer my need. But lo-and-behold, it wasn’t going to prove to be that easy (as I would soon find out).

Every dress seemed either too garish, exposed too much skin, asked for a perfect body, or signified a complete personality reversal from conventional to wild and adventurous. While not exactly given to living-on-the-edge, I have no problem with showing some leg (the emphasis being on some). Yet, at the same time, I am unable to reach out and force the mirror to right the reflected image from something that is improper to that which is proper. And thus, showing up in an Indian dress wasn’t completely erased as an option. But being a lover of low-key, I didn’t want to give in to being the sparkly, colorful foreigner amidst the sedate creams and yellows I was sure to encounter.

When the internet and Macys failed, I turned to a friend whom I have often shared cross-cultural lessons with. She has taught me the nuances of a baseball game and the edifying historic value of Jersey diners and their concept of breakfast-anytime. In return, she now enjoys celebrating Diwali with us and loves going out for Indian cuisine. While she suggested a shopping trip to try on some stuff first-hand and decide, we also concluded that a combination of Indian color and American demureness might just work. The trip is yet to happen, but my conversation with her brought up a lot of questions.

How do we as immigrants and entrants to a new society, its ways and mannerisms, deal with these occasions? Do most of us fade into the background, because we are unable to mold ourselves to new styles and modalities, or do some of us venture into the middle and say, here I am, American, just like you? Or, do we dispense with all the travails and fuss, and proudly wear our culture on our sleeve and say, we are different, yet the same?

Aman Singh is an editor in New York City. She aspires to be a children’s books editor and writes about India and her Indian-ness with candor. Her free moments are spent wondering when the seven continents became one huge global mass of humans. She can be reached at as1808@nyu.edu