APPRECIATING ODDS AND ENDS IN ARMENIAN CULTURE
By Robert Fullam
ianyan magazine
April 1 2010
There long has been a phenomenon that not just myself, but countless
other Armenians have taken note of, those ubiquitous floral patterned
dresses that older Armenian women seem to wear. Whether they are at
the store, at a church bazaar, a kef or anywhere else, they wear
these things all the time! I have a feeling there is some rite of
passage for Armenian women regarding this thing. You would think
some people might catch on to new fashions yet women take after
their mothers and continue this tradition of dressing like their
grandparent’s generation.
There is this feeling in the pit of my stomach that today’s Armenian
girls, despite their UGGs and Juicy Couture pants, will inevitably
grow into this fashion faux pas . There’s the pattern with the dresses,
they are usually accompanied by those bland orthopedic shoes and dark
stockings and I can’t forget to mention some of the tacky jewelry
as well. I’m going to tell one of my stories about these dresses,
a quick one that some of you can relate to. I went to one of the
church bazaars during this past summer with my mother and grandmother,
letting my grandmother drag me around, introducing me to some of her
friends. They all tell me they remember how little I was, kiss me on
both cheeks and pinch me and they all wore those dresses but this is
not the clincher. After leaving the bazaar, we went to another one but
thought it was closed so we continued home and at a stop light me, my
mother and grandmother look over. There they were, three older women,
all slightly overweight, floral dresses, and all making eye contact
with us. It was at this moment everyone in the car knew that these
women were Armenian. We did not know them, we did not see them at the
bazaar, but we could tell that they were Armenian because of how they
dressed and I find something hilarious yet disturbing about that fact.
It was funny and a little sad, but such a stupid thing to laugh about.
It’s really just one of those cultural peculiarities that you have
love, savoring it because you know it’s unique, one of those things
that you just end up telling yourself, "I love being Armenian."
I will not deny however that this does not occur in other cultures as
well, I’m sure there are grandmothers out there with their mysterious
subculture that nobody can understand. Differences are not always bad,
I bet there are some Armenians out there who can totally relate to what
I’m writing about and some might not, Armenian subcultures vary widely
and what I am describing are my own experiences that have culminated in
a greater appreciation my culture and how it relates to me personally.
So I just ask you to look around at the grandfatherly men playing
tavlo(backgammon) in the park, the hairy, heavily mustached men who
grill at the kefs and bazaars and the packs of medzmayrigs gossiping
with each other and simply, appreciate it.