#pakistani party dress

[littleandloom]

Explore our collection of stylish Eastern wear for kids from the best Pakistani clothing brands. Find boys Eastern wear and more.

[uniquewallartukshop]

Soft Purple Traditional Wear, Floral Embroidered 3 Piece Suit, Pakistani Salwar Kameez for Women, Long Sleeve Handmade Party/Wedding Dress

Our Soft Purple Traditional Wear is a gorgeous addition to any formal wardrobe. This floral embroidered 3 piece suit is adorned with a fully embroidered design that exemplifies sophistication and grace.

The exquisite detailing of the embroidery enhances the delicate beautiful 3 piece suit, creating a look that is eye-catching and timeless. It is ideal for formal events or traditional wear.

This embroidery design suit offers a comfortable fit. Tailored for the discerning woman, this long sleeve traditional wear captures the essence of femininity and classic charm in every stitch.

Embrace traditional elegance with our Soft Purple Traditional Wear. This ensemble includes a finely crafted cambric cotton shirt, a stylish net dupatta, and coordinating cambric trousers.

🌟Product Details 🌟

Stitched 3-Piece Shirt: .: Color: Soft Purple .: Fabric: Cambric Cotton with a smooth finish .: Style: Straight cut with Fully Embroidery and net Border .: Sleeves: Long sleeves

Trouser: .: Color: Soft Purple .: Fabric: Cambric .: Style: Straight

Dupatta: .: Color: Soft Purple .: Fabric: Net .: Style: Subtle design throughout

[ishdeenashop]

Pakistani dresses for women encompass a rich and diverse range of traditional and contemporary clothing styles. These outfits showcase intricate embroidery, vibrant colors, and elegant drapery. Whether it's the ever-popular shalwar kameez, the graceful anarkali suits, or the traditional lehenga choli, Pakistani dresses cater to various occasions, from weddings to casual wear. They represent a fusion of cultural heritage and modern design, offering women a wide spectrum of choices to express their individuality through fashion.

[toychest321]

While I was looking into Fulla dolls, I found out another Muslim fashion doll was released around the same time!

Meet Razanne! (And be prepared for a loooooong deep dive under the Keep Reading lol)

From what I've been able to piece together from various sources, she was created by Palestinian-American Ammar Saadeh and his wife Noor in 1996, being initially launched through the internet before more publicly advertised to Middle-Eastern and American audiences in 2004. Their goal was to show Muslim girls that "what matters is what's inside you, not how you look" (quoted from an interview with Greensoboro News and Record). They wanted to give them a role model with an emphasis on education and religion, while also having a career! To reflect the diversity of the global Muslim ummah, each of her dolls came in three variants: Pakistani-Indian (olive skin w/ dark hair), Black (dark skin w/ dark hair), and Caucasian (fair skin w/ fair hair).

While unfortunately she's no longer in production, the WayBack machine has a record of all her dolls released through the Noorart website! Each doll listing also includes additional information to educate on Islamic culture!

First there's Schoolgirl Razanne, whose listing reads:

"Razanne loves school and is all ready with her bright red book bag to join her friends in class. For your information…Traditional uniforms are worn by schoolgirls in Islamic schools. In addition to the usual subjects, students also study the Arabic language and the Qur'an - the Muslim Holy Book."

Next we have Teacher Razanne, whose listing reads:

"What is a more honorable and specialized career than education? Our teacher Razanne comes full equipped with lap top computer, briefcase and all the necessary items for school. For your information... Many Muslim girls study to become educators. Two-piece suits with jacket and skirt are popular styles for Muslim women who work outside the home as teachers or other professionals."

There's Playday Razanne, who unlike the prior two came with no accessories, her listing reads:

"Dressing modestly doesn't keep Razanne from having fun! On the playground, Razanne plays in her scarf and a loose fitting jumper that gives her lots of room to run and jump. For your information... Dressing modestly doesn't prevent Muslim girls from having fun outdoors! Whether biking, skating, on the playground or at the park children manage to have fun no matter where they are!"

We also have a Muslim Scout Razanne, who came with a free audiotape of Muslim Scout Cheers and a preview of We Love Muhammad! Her listing reads:

"'I'm honest, kind and trustworthy.' Muslim Scouts' organizations all over the world help build character and skills for success in this life and the next. Razanne wears her merit badges and awards earned for community service, Islamic behavior and Qur'an memorization. Respect for Allah, parents and all members of the community are a top priority with Razanne. For your information…like all Scout troops, Muslim Scouts are encouraged to excel in personal attributes such as honesty, cooperation and leadership as well as taking an active part in community service and environmental protection."

Next up there's Eid Mubarak Razanne, which came two different color variants for her outfit, her listing reading:

"Razanne is all ready to celebrate the Muslim holiday. Dressed in her new floral fashions of pink or blue, Razanne has Eid cards addressed to all her friends and is ready to deocorate the party with balloons. The perfect Eid gift for any girl! For your information… Muslims celebrate two major festivals each year. One is the Eid Al Fitr following the month-long fast of Ramadan. A second holiday occurs during the annual Pilgrimage to Makkah. Children and adults look forward to these two special days with great anticipation. Before the Eid the entire family goes out shopping for new clothes to wear for Eid Day. Early Eid morning the family meets with other members of the community for an Eid Prayer then disperse to family gatherings and other celebrations. Children are often given gifts of toys or money and families exchange delectable sweets that differ according to the region in which they live. Muslims exchange greetings of Eid Mubarak,"Eid Congratulations", Eid Saeed, "Happy Eid" and wish each other a coming year full of God's blessings. Kul 'am wa anta bi khair!"

I wasn't able to find any other images for Prayer Razanne like the others unfortunately, and apparently she came with accessories too! Her listing reads:

"Allahu Akbar! God is the Greatest! It's time to pray and Razanne is ready! When it's time for prayer, many Muslim girls cover their everyday clothes with these traditional two-piece garments and stand to pray on colorful prayer rugs. We receive so many letters from customers that tell us that Razanne usually joins the family for salah! For your information… when it's time for prayer, many Muslim girls cover their everyday clothes with these traditional two-piece garments and stand to pray on colorful prayer rugs. Muslim women may pray in congregation at the Mosque but it is often more convenient to pray the five daily prayers at home."

And finally we have In And Out Razanne, whose listing reads:

"In and Out Razanne comes with a two-piece fashion set for wear inside and outside the home. At home Razanne loves to dress in all the latest fashions. In a minute she can be ready to go out with this traditional jilbaab coat. Razanne helps Muslim girls understand that in the home they can be the ultimate fashion statement yet still have attractive attire while dressing modestly outside the home. For your information…Razanne helps Muslim girls understand that in the home they can be the ultimate fashion statement yet still have attractive attire while dressing modestly outside the home."

I'm honestly so glad I found this, because doing research into this doll has been a blast! I love the vintage vibes of her outfits with the patterns and color choices, and it makes me really happy seeing this doll being used as an educational tool for Islamic culture and practices!

Thank you to limbedolls.blogspot.com, emel.com, Greensboro News and Record, and "Framing Muslims" by Peter Morey and Amina Yaqin for the information that went into this long-ass post!

Ramadan Kareem!

[hobiebrownismygod]

Let's talk about Desi representation again!!

I don't talk about this stuff often but when I do, I have some strong ass opinions

and yes I'm gonna be talking about none other than Pavitr Prabhakar at the end cuz he's just special to me <3

Hollywood is lagging behind on Desi representation

You'd think one of the biggest film industries in the world would be able to represent us properly, considering the fact that we make up the largest group of South-Asian Americans and the second largest group of Asian-Americans in the US, but instead-

Western Television forces Indians to conform to harmful stereotypes

Some of the most popular Desi characters on screen are Raj Koothrappali from the Big Bang Theory, Devi Vishwakumar from Never Have I Ever and Kelly Kapoor from the Office.

Indian men are almost always portrayed as robotics engineers and computer whizzes, but with terrible social intellect, making them seem like awkward nerds.

Indian women are almost always portrayed as "whitewashed", or wanting to appear more western, with zero understanding of their own culture or language along with an unrelenting need for attention from white friends/colleagues.

These are both based on stereotypes that Indian culture is "toxic" and "too traditional" and that Indians are only interested in studies.

Most Desi characters in western media have stories that are solely based around their ethnicity and/or racial stereotypes.

British television actually showcases a lot more representation than Hollywood does

I was watching Polite Society, a movie starring two Pakistani characters as the main leads, and there was a dance scene where both the leads are wearing traditional desi attire. My mom turned over, looked at me, and asked, "Is this Hollywood? It can't be."

And she was right. It's a British movie with British-Pakistani actors.

The reason she didn't believe that it could've been Hollywood was because the dresses the two leads were wearing were traditional and beautiful and the song playing in the background was authentic Hindi music, not some random westernized DJ version of it.

A Hollywood movie would've never dressed up their Desi actors in actually flattering attire (*cough cough the Patel twins from Harry Potter) or have used real, popular Desi music in the background.

You see my point?

It is so uncommon to see well-thought-out Desi representation in TV nowadays, where to see real diversity we have to watch movies made by the same country that colonized us.

Ironic.

British movies/shows with desi leads have far better South Asian representation than anything I've seen in Hollywood recently.

The Hollywood movies starring Indian leads, like Slumdog Millionaire or Bend it like Beckham were filmed in the UK, and because they were filmed in the UK, they had fantastic South Asian representation.

Not only does Hollywood refuse to create shows and movies about real problems that South Asians face, but they also don't cast South Asian actors in good roles.

When's the last time you saw a South Asian actor playing a character that wasn't a walking stereotype? When's the last time you saw a South Asian actor playing a character that was a genuine part of the story rather than just comedic relief or a random smart kid in the classroom?

Not often, right?

Me, personally, I didn't grow up with a lot of South Asian characters or actors in shows/movies that I watched. In fact, every time someone even close to my skin color showed up on TV, I was on the edge of my seat because it was just so rare to see it.

This is why representation matters.

You've heard about all the young girls with braids being so excited when the new little mermaid with Halle Bailey came out. Well, us desi kids wanted that too.

I wanted to see a Telugu speaking girl with wavy hair and dark skin who would wear traditional clothing to Desi get-togethers and parties, go to the temple with her family, eat vegetarian Indian meals, etc...

I wanted to see a character who was a representation of me and my experiences as an Indian-American. I wanted to see a character that was at least a representation of Indians or just South Asians in general.

Instead, we were given characters that ridiculed their own culture, were extreme stereotypes and furthered the existence of casual racism in western society today. So many Desi kids experience small acts of racism on a daily basis because people have been so desensitized to the existence of these stereotypes.

Telling South Asians that their culture is a joke and feeding non-asian children media which pokes fun at other cultures is harmful, not only to us South Asians but also communities that could end up being targeted next.

Pavitr Prabhakar; Representation Matters

If you've been following me or if we're mutuals, you probably know I have a tiny obsession with Pavitr Prabhakar. But why?

Because of all the reasons I just listed.

There are few South Asian characters us Desis can look up to these days, and Pavitr Prabhakar is one of the maybe two or three characters who have great writing, magnificent representation, and overall a fun vibe.

He's likable, funny, smart and best of all, unapologetically Desi.

He's just like all the other side characters, with a little bit of his own culture mixed in. He's not being shoved down our throats to further an agenda about fake diversity, he's not a walking stereotype and best of all, he was designed by Indian creators.

He's refreshing and exciting to follow in a world full of a demand for half-hearted representations and the people who created him were obviously putting their hearts and souls into it.

He's awoken a love for Indian culture amongst, not only Desi children themselves but also among westerners who, prior to this, had thought of India as a "3rd world" country, because that's the agenda that Hollywood pushes onto many South Asian countries today.

WE LOVE PAVITR PRABHAKAR!!

This was kinda all over the place but I just had to get this off my chest <3

Sources:

https://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/2021/06/10/discrimination-against-indian-americans-happens-more-than-you-might-think/

[thelindenpapers]

"Yelling"

So I live in New York, you know.

New York is pretty interesting, lot of the time. You meet all kinds of people in New York.

The evidence is there, lining up to immerse your senses.

Any one street, you’re hearing Japanese accents, Pakistani accents, smatterings of Tamil.

You’re smellin’ veal parmesan one block, and griot another.

There’s Björk, there’s Otis Redding, and there’s Pedro Infante in your ears.

If I could tell you, I’d say you meet everyone in New York.

But that’s what’s sad about it, too, sometimes.

Sometimes you meet people, and they’re broken. Broken people, you know, and you don’t know how they’d fix it.

I’m walking down the street coming back from my job.

I can’t wait to get to the train: ‘cause I got off early, and I know that the train will probably be nice and quiet. There’s always plenty of room, IF you ride in the off-peak hours.

I’m looking forward to my book, or to staring out of the window; thinking.

The sky is that cloudy that it gets when everything is tinged blue. Real peaceful and calm.

And I go past a wall, and it’s got these ‘Missing’ posters plastered all over it...

Idly, I take a look.

...Shame.

Real pretty girl. Dark hair, dark eyes…that ‘natural’ kind of pretty.

Clean and neat. Dressed, almost, like a doll.

The accompanying message pleads for her return in neatly printed type, but then I notice:

On about half of ‘em, the ‘Missing’ part is crossed out.

In frantic black marker, a different message is scrawled:

‘No, not missing!!! ‘Please, not look for her, leave her in peace! She’s dead.’

Soooo…. That's creepy.

I’m gettin’ off topic.

Like always, I’m walking down the street, and there are lots of other people walking...going my way, coming towards me, going past me…

You don’t really look at other people in New York.

Everybody’s got their minds on where they gotta go.

Now and again, though, I’ll look.

Because I like to think and write and do portraits when I’ve got free time.

Sometimes, I’ll see someone I want to draw when I get home, you know? There’s all kinds of people in New York.

But there’s this one woman, coming towards me to go past me, and I just know.

This woman is broken. She’s broken real good.

And then, I think maybe she’s not gonna go past me, you know, because she’s not like everyone else:

She’s looking around at everybody, like I am.

She spots me before I can look away.

She sees me lookin’; so she starts heading towards me and now I know she’s not gonna go past.

This woman.

She got some kind of accent on her I can’t place.

I know, because before she even gets to me, she’s talking really loud.

The other people, they weren’t looking in the first place, and they’re sure as shit not looking now!

I try to evade her, but they make a constantly walking bubble around us; making room for us like we was a floor show.

And she says, as she comes towards me:

“He’s a good man, you know? He’s a real good man. But he don’t think, you get it? He tries his best not to think. See, if no think, there no understand! That’s what cause everything!”

I try not to be rude.

I say, “Oh, lady, look. I’m sorry. I got a train to catch.”

I try backing off. But she catches my arm.

She’s not trying to hurt me or nothin’. She’s not hurting me with her hand on my arm, but I look at her…and I can’t.

I can’t pull away.

She’s hanging on like she needs so, so bad to be heard.

And I can’t help but stand there, and now people are looking at us as they go past: because I’m not complaining, and they think that I should.

They think I’m crazy, now. Maybe I am.

So while this lady is talking, I figure, well. I better go ahead and look real hard at ‘er...

Yeah, she’s broken.

But I might want to draw her.

She’s real interesting.

It strikes me, that she doesn’t dress like she’s broken.

It’s a little like she’s white collar, a little like she’s come from a costume party.

No rags, no dirt. Skin nice, taken care of….even though she has this zombie look in the lines of her face…like she’s been dead inside a long time.

She’s got this smart, smart, short dress on that would be real risque if she weren’t wearing anything underneath it. So silky and smooth: a dark-wine-red with a purple sheen to it. DARK purple sheen. Like a bruise, and the red silk color underneath is blood.

She got cleavage hanging out, but not like she put it there to be stared at. More like that’s just who she is. She’s sexy, but I can’t imagine anyone objectifying her, less they were a fool. You could take her all you want if she lets you, but she’s herself and you had better show respect.

It’s the way she stands, maybe.

She got on this black blazer, but with silver buckles, like the goths wear, and freshly pressed black suit pants underneath the dress.

Her lipstick is dark, and her hair and her eyes: dark. She’s got a black eyepatch made of damask silk and a freakin’ crow on her shoulder--

I flinch a little when I realize that that crow is really real: sitting there lookin' at me calm as fuck.

And her eyeshadow is that same purple sheen that’s like bruises over her eyes.

Bruises on purpose, bruises real particular. Chosen bruises, like.

What she’s saying finally gets through to me:

“--but I was so careful, you know???

"I spend seven years, dating him, talking to him. Trying to make sure he’s right.

"And he is right! I spend seven years, I give him seven years….the last years of my youth! But he’s nice and he’s smart and he’s sexy and he says he’ll take care of me. And he loves me so much, and back then, I love him like Romeo and Juliet.

"And he proposes! "He propose all elaborate; everyone, they think like it fairy tale! They joke how I so lucky, an older woman courted for so long by a younger man, they amazed, so good of him! "My young, handsome, kind, genius of a man, he says, ‘Let’s marry!’

"So we do! "We do get married, you know, and he’s a good man! He says he’s a good man, and he is a good man.

"We both of us immigrants. And our parents so proud. We both virgins, you know?”

She gestures with her hands and leans in as she talks. Staring hard, trying to keep my gaze.

And she’s saying, “I did everything I could. I tried to be the best wife ever, you know? Because he was best husband ever.

"I cook and I clean and I make these beautiful lunches for him. And I laugh with him and talk with him and massage his back every night and I dress nice all time, you know, even when we don’t go anywhere. I work hard on dinners and I present them just so, you see?

"All the time, I looking at him.

"Heh. He complain about it, that’s how much. He say, loving looks from across the room, they're creepy.

"But I can’t help it. I so in love. And he, I can tell, he’s so in love.

"But he won’t…he won’t take me, you know? There’s no whatcha’ call it. No make love.

"I don’t understand, ‘cause he like to tease me all the time before, you know? Make me swoon so I can’t stand.

"He so proud, that I have this high libido. Say he gonna take me all different ways, once we’re married. But my man, still, he won’t make love to me, and I don’t know why.”

I look her in the eye. I can see, oh, she is beyond broken.

And I don’t know how to pull away, even though her hand on my arm is gentle, I could pull away, you see.

But I don’t know how.

“I think it all my fault!

"I do something wrong, I dunno what.

"So I try even harder, you understand?

"I dress even nicer. And I look up all these articles and books about sex and marriage and everything.

"And they tell me what I already know:

"Something wrong?

"Then wife is wrong.

"Wife need to fix.

"So I try the solutions they say. But there’s nothing doing, you understand?

"And it gets so I’m going mad.

"So I keep my voice down, nice, quiet, like wife is supposed to -- but I ask him, "‘Is there maybe pressures at your job?’ "And he says, ‘No, honey, I love my job.’

"And I say, ‘Are you not attracted me?’ "And he says, ‘No, honey, I am, very so! I love you more than anyone in my whole life. You make me feel everything! You’re beautiful.’

"And one day, you know, he finds me crying alone, because I need so bad, and yet, who, who I going to go to?

"There only him for me.

"I’m wracking my brain, my brain to pieces, and I can’t understand why he won’t take me. I ask him, ‘Why won’t you make me your own? You always said you were looking forward to it. Did I do something wrong?’

"And he says, ‘Don’t worry, honey. We will one day, I promise.’

"So I wait, you know?

"I keep quieter now. I no want to nag. But I trying to dress even better. "I get all these lovely frilly things, you know, the nice dresses -- simple and fresh and alive, like doll.

"I’m not young anymore, you know, I’m almost forty. But I look young. He always say, I’m ‘his girl’. So I dress like a girl.

"I dress like I feel, like I’m young, and in love…because I am in love, and if my young man says I’m young, then I’m young.

"Still, I’m desperate. I want him so bad.

"But you know, I reason with him and I talk to him and I love him hard as I can, and I flirt, and I cry sometimes and I try to not cry in front of him and I keep asking him, maybe only once, twice a month now, you know? ‘Cause he work hard, and I don’t want to bother him too much.

"But now and again, I say calmly as I can, ‘Love, when will you make me your own?’ And he calms me and hugs me and says, ‘Have patience. It will happen.’

"Each time there opportunity, he have all kind excuses.

"He tired.

"He not feel well.

"He already touch himself today.

"I not give him enough protein.

"One day, he says that kind of passion that I ask for, yes?, ‘No exist’.

"….I think maybe he lost it.

"I KNOW it exist!

"One day, he says to me, 'Maybe if you need sex so much, you should just have fantasy lover!'

"….If that’s what I want, hey, why I get married?!?!!”

She giggles in this strangled voice, in disbelief….like someone about to die by the hand of something stupid and all wrong,

“WHAT? Why, why I no get my own place, live with my imaginary husband somewhere, if that what I wanted from this life?!’

"...But I think, 'Maybe, maybe is something I don’t know about, hey?

"He always smarter than me. "‘I be patient. I wait. I just trust him. "‘Woman supposed to trust her man, hey? If you're a good woman, you do. If you trust God, you do.'

"...And our first Anniversary pass.

"And I say to him, with last, last scrap of dignity in me, I say, ‘Honey, you know, maybe you let us have whatcha’ call it. ‘Open’ marriage, yes?

"'I stay with you, you no worry. I always stay. Always you and me. Always, I come home to you, I take care of you, cook, clean, sit, listen, all good.

"'But maybe I go once in a while and find someone take care my need?'

"But he refuse. "He no share me, he say.

"I all his, he love me too much.

"He wouldn’t be able to take it. He would be too sad.

"He will kill himself.

"So I try. "I still try wait, I tell him, I wait for him, I be patient...

"Months pass, and I think I can still go on, and I must go on, I promised to go on–

"But I can’t.

"I go on, but I don’t, you know?

"Because I-I can’t. I’m just not that strong, though I thought I could be if I tried hard enough, like a good christian girl.

"If I was good enough, if I pray enough, pray hard enough, then I make it!

"God will show me I’m loved.

"My husband, he will show me romance and care and concern and consideration and lust.

"True love will win!

"...But is no good.

"I wake up on the floor.

"I get up.

"But there I am, still there, lying on floor.”

I stare real hard at the woman.

I don’t know what she wants me to say.

Maybe she doesn’t want me to say anything.

She doesn’t seem upset that I’m not sayin' nothing, and that’s real good, ‘cause I tell you, I don’t know what to say. I don’t say shit. I just stare back. She and the crow staring at me.

“Do you see?!”, she whispers savagely.

“Do you know what I mean?: I wake up on the floor; but there I am!

"In front of me, with real flesh.

"A young girl, a young girl in love, smiling, in a really cute dress, with frills, with pretty pink perfect make-up, and a recipe in her hand for good, thick steaks that night.

"Lying on floor.

"She dead.

"I can see my face, and it look like always, with her beautiful two eyes, and I close them careful.

"I think maybe I imagine her.

"But when I bend; touch her side, she real.

"Cold.

"And there no breath.

"I feel her ribcage is sticking out under her skin like winter branch…

"…..She was like in dungeon…you understand?

"That’s me. Died. Craved and worried and pined away in pain, all alone.

"I died. I died.

"I couldn’t help it.

"I tried. But, I… Froze to death, or. "What word? "‘Starved’, like.”

Now you know that’s crazy. I don’t believe her for one minute...

But I look in her one eye, and I know she’s not lying.

And just like that, I get vertigo, you know?

Like someone took the pavement while I was still standing on it and shook it out.

I quickly widen my stance so I don’t fall.

I don’t know what to say. I wish she’d shut up.

But I'm the one who shuts up.

She keeps talking:

“What am I going to do??

"Stuff around house always needs taking care of, constantly.

"I lying on floor, I gotta take care of it.

"So I take the shovel, you know, and I go to the undertaker and I buy me a plot with my housewife allowance--

"I don’t know what else to do.

"I know she’s dead. "And I know she’s me. "And I know, I know I’m dead.

"And I know, if his parents knew, or if my parents knew, she would be so ashame.

"And he’d be so angry. Or so sad, that he kill himself.

"I can’t tell anyone. "I can’t.

"But she was a good girl, you know? "She was such a good girl.

"Giving. God-fearing.

"So it’s not good, to just have her lying on the floor, with her last thoughts of steak.

"And I can’t do the vacuuming later that way, with her lying on floor.

"So I burn the recipe in the oven real good, you know, and I take me and I bury me in the plot, with prayers and everything.

"Dead.

"She was a good girl. I made sure she had a proper, respectful burial, with hymns, you know? She tried real hard.

"It was sad, I felt sorry. "It shouldn’t have gone that way, she did what she was supposed to do; she tried to be good!

"She didn’t have to, didn’t have to break.

"To die.

"I did everything I could.

"And my husband comes home, and I don’t ask him about nothing no more, but I tell him I died and he thinks I’m joking.

"He laugh.

"So I shrug and I serve the dinner and it’s delicious.

"But in months to follow, maybe I don’t bother so much about the gravy coming out just so anymore.

"And you know, maybe I don’t bother about dressing up just so anymore.

"Or rather, I dress different: to please me, to express who I am, rather than to please him and to impress he friends.

"And maybe sometime, we have hot dog. Take-out.

"I wear my jeans now, and my t-shirts when we’re home, and I watch things all by myself now, I watch the stuff that I like to watch, and go to sleep whenever is good. I don’t wait for him no more.

"And maybe I’m slower when filling up the dishwasher, and now I only have one eye, and I even put my ring away, but you know what?

"He doesn’t notice.

"Doesn’t notice a thing to change.

"And I’m like a zombie, but what am I going to do?

"I could walk down the street naked and walk and walk far as I can, until I can’t walk one step more.

"What’s going to change?

"I have no income myself. Not a lot of education.

"I give up a good job, WITH benefits, WITH pension – I give up family and friends and my home for come to live with him.

"I have nowhere to go…I don’t want to go, go back to my own country.

"And I’m dead. "The dead don’t… "They don’t go back. "And they don’t come back.

"So I say to myself one day when he’s at work, ‘Well, if I’m dead I’m dead, but I can still think.

"'So if I can still think, I can still dream, can’t I?

"'So maybe I’ll have that fantasy lover now.'

"What else I do?

"So in my mind, I think up someone.

"I make him someone who turn me on.

"Someone good, but maybe more ‘there’.

"Someone as old as me -- no!! A little bit older!!!

"And I tell him who I am, I open up my soul so he can see it.

"I tell him everything that happened, and I tell him what I need, like it job interview.

"And I ask him if he consent.

"And he says, ‘Yeah, I consent.’ With smile real big.

"So in my mind we spend time together.

"And I’m dead, and he’s imaginary, so who cares, right?

"Only living people go crazy. Only living people hallucinate--”

I…

Feel kinda’ like I’m going to go to sleep, listening to her, and I don’t know why.

The peaceful blue.

It’s as if the air is a sponge, and the cloud blue daylight is silk that is soaked into the sponge, and it keeps pressing in, on my skin, on my mind.

I feel so still.

What is it about today?

Everything’s silk, and each moment, everything except her gets more silent.

But I still stand there, ‘cause I got offa’ work early anyway.

I don’t have nowhere I need to be right now.

But God is she broken, and she’s gotta get heard and no one else will do it.

And it feels urgent, you know?

And I was already standing there for that long anyway, right?

So what does it hurt if I stand there a little more?

Besides, I need to draw her later.

I can at least do this for her.

“So you know what?”, she says. “After a little while, my imaginary man, he helps me take me.

"One day, when my widower husband’s at work, we watch something nice…whatcha’ call it.

"Sophisticated. Cultured. And we talk and listen to good jazz and dance together and have some wine.

"Even have candles. So many things that I like, that I hadn't enjoy ever since I marry...

"It so funny.

"I feel my whole age, and it feel…

"It feel nice. It feel okay.

"And I had bought something hygienic for me from sex shop, with my tax refund from my last job.

"And I lay down, and I take me, okay?

"You know, I shoulda’ done it sooner.

"It’s like something crazy, ‘cause I still a believer, you know?

"I still think I have a soul. Still there creative force.

"But that force creates with us, with beings who create ourselves.

"And now I’ve abandoned it: idea other believers dragged up from the sand so long ago:

"About women, being owned -- always, they gotta be owned by someone -- that women be owned by their fathers until he give her to some man who will take her and make her their own.

"That good women never take for themselves -- they always too busy giving to everyone else, and then, MAYBE, someone nice to them who appreciate give to them in return.

"But no.

"No, I do it.

"I claim me, I make me my own, and this imaginary guy, he helps me do it, helps me, cause I so scared to do it.

"He help me, to get over the fear and indignity and embarrassment and shame and regret.

"I do it, but he make it all romantic and sexy, ‘cause he there.

"And you know what?

"That imaginary man, in the weeks that follow, he love me.

"He love me like I don’t know what. Even though I’m dead.

"I’ve never been loved like that before.

"I never allowed anyone, because I tried so hard to be good girl: for parents, and for whoever my husband would be.

"My imaginary man and I…we two people, not one, like they say in movies.

"We are ourselves. "We meet as equal.

"He like many things that I like.

"We spend time together, cook together. He make me laugh when I alone doing laundry. He walk out into the sun with me, holding hands.

"He like kiss, cuddle. Stroke. Sex -- sex simple; sex varied -- plenty of it!

"He gaze into my eye, unflinching.

"He talks to me, like he knows I’m THERE.

"He never look through me.

"He likes it, when I look at him all sparkly eye: he give me this proud smirk.

"He know I with him, and he CARE that I with him.

"He LIKES me!

"And he doesn’t let me to slow down; to stop, like the dead are supposed to.

"He encourage me, ‘GO. Go ahead, do this and do that which you thinking about, because you can do it. Because life is to be lived’, so I no sit around complacent and dazed; I would have otherwise.

"‘Death for later.’, he say, ‘Life now.’

"I do good things for myself…I do what?

"‘Self-care’, I think they call it. I try study all kinds of things, try and figure out if there another way for me to be.

"And I get happier, you know?

"Being with my imaginary man, he so good, so sexy and so sweet, and so strong.

"And he so, SO happy and proud when I am strong; when I learn things and when I do things, he is not frightened -- it no bother him, for me to succeed.

"I get happier and I get to where I don’t care.

"And I don’t care so much; that I’m alive again.

"But I’m not me, not who I was, not a girl.

"I’m still buried.

"The girl is buried.

"I’m something different.

"I’m a woman, but not because I took myself, you know?

"I’m a woman because I decided.

"I decided something, for me…and that something was to take myself, but you know, it could have been anything.

"Anything at all.

"It didn’t have to be the sex.

"But my husband, he finally realize I’m not me, because to him I look so sad when he’s around.

"Because when he around, I can’t be all new, always growing, like the living should be. He has expectations, assumptions, you know?

"And the assumptions, is like cage.

"I tell him, ‘I’m not sad, but I’m a woman now, you know.

"'Things are different for me. Did you no notice? I dress different now, I don’t dress like a girl anymore.

"'And maybe you don’t get a massage every night, did you no notice?

"'And I don’t cry no more and I don’t want you in that way no more.

"'I’m tired of wanting so much, wanting for almost ten years wanting you.’

"But he doesn’t believe me and he cries and he begs me not to leave him, even though I want to, even though he knows I can't.

"I want to go out there, you know?

"I…I not so good girl anymore.

"There a lot of men. Some of them won’t want me, like people told me, because my age. But I’ve looked now, when I walking. I know now, some of the men will.

"It would be fun. We would meet as equal, too: I give, they give.

"And, maybe I find one of them understand more. Not as deep as imaginary man understands…he’s not corporeal, it like he have cheat sheet!

"But another man might understand more than husband does, at least.

"I stay, because I can't leave.

"Husband, and husband's parents, they set everything up that way.

"But at least I got my imaginary lover.

"I start go to bars, you know? I get drink, to forget sometimes.

"I think to myself, ‘What has he done to me? I was so in love. He only had to take me and see me and treat me right.'

"I want to leave. Right now, start my life over cleanly. Or at least to cheat. To find someone nice, and love and be loved.

"To get it all back…the adoration, the touch of other men that I was offered, but that I rejected…because I was told that ‘they didn’t mean it’, that they offered ‘in order to hurt me’, and because I was ‘saving it up for my future husband’.

"I want to flirt. "To banter. "Maybe show off, do a portrait like I used to. Men used to say, I ‘have charm’, hey? "And 'wit'.

"…I used to fidget or hide my gaze when they said that.

"Hang my hair in my face.

"No more.

"I want to hear them say that, and smile at them.

"Turn charm up.

"Hear them sigh with their friends when they think I not notice.

"See their eyes, the desire in them.

"Choose one, if there’s one I want, and share me with them.

"To know what it’s like, to get flowers.

"Maybe I even find immigrant from my own country…modern man, but one who know my culture, understand my struggle.

"I want to experience it all, everything that I denied myself.

"But my husband, make me second guess, all time.

"My husband, you know, he say, he no believe I say these things! He say it -- quietly, kindly -- but he make me feel bad, saying, ‘We make vow. We promised, before God. We make commitment.’

"He say he will honor his commitment, even if I decide I no want to anymore, to be married. Even if I leave, he keep commitment.

"It drive me up wall!

"I look at him, I think to myself,

"‘Why? Why do you do this to me? You, you did this first, not me!

"'You leave me first!

"'Is your neglect no break of commitment?

"'Is you lie, you sabotage my goals, and push and push me away no break of commitment? Is my crying alone while he at work, feeling so lonely that I should die, that I did die, of no consequence?

"'I tried talk, I tried warn him, I stop wearing ring -- and he pat me on head, or say talking make him too sad -- all that no matter? Was that not break his commitment?'

"So, you understand, I go drinking, everybody drink, people will listen, even if they would not listen sober.

"And I ask them, I tell them what happen, I ask, ‘Am I being bad? He give me so much. Did I ask too much from him?’

"And they look at me, like I crazy.

"Some women, they say, ‘I would have leave after first THREE weeks, never mind fifteen months or years!’

"Some men, they say, ‘Is he really serious??? That’s--�� --what they say?

"There a word for it.

"‘Spousal neglect.’

"They say I could get annulment, it be like neither of us were ever married because…’consummated’.

"Marriage not consummated.

"They also laugh, think I a crazy woman -- a wife who wants sex, hey? They ‘never heard of it before’.

"The women, they no laugh.

"There are more wives like me, hurting also, everyone think they crazy because they want sex.

"Only a man supposed to want sex, right? Lots of it.

"Or, if you a woman and you want sex, it because you harlot.

"Some look down on me.

"Understand?

"Before I died, I would have look down on me, too.

"I would have hated me.

"I would have said, ‘She evil.’

"But the other women and I, we talk a long time.

"And those women, they know:

"Men who want sex. Men who don’t want sex. Men who only want a little.

"Women who don’t want sex. Women who only want a little. Some women, they want lots, just like some men.

"We agree: it not so simple.

"Whether or not you want sex, and how much sex, and from whom, and what kind, is not about whether man or wife.

"It ridiculous—is no prude, is no slut! "It depends on individual.

"It’s wired in. Into flesh and into your bones…

"...It make me glad I no ever guilt husband into take me.

"...He’s one of those, isn’t he?

"Probably couldn’t tell anybody…because, just like I ‘crazy woman’, maybe they call him ‘crazy man’, right?

"Man no want sex, no want romance, they never heard of it before, right?

"These assumptions. "They kill everyone.

"Anyway.

"Some of the women who hurt, they hurt long, long time. Years…decades!

"Others, they surprise I last so long! They think I made of steel!

"But I still die, huh? "Even steel breaks.

"But you know, I yell at him now, my widower husband.

"And sometime he laughs, and sometime he stares, and sometime he ignores. And I feel so bad for yelling at him.

"But I still do it, now and again, and he tries to touch me and I tell him to go away and he laughs some more and waits till later.

"He want now, now he want to take me!

"He say he understand now, that I need and that he should give to me.

"He talk more and more about kids now. Kids!

"But he doesn’t understand. Not at all.

"It so hard. When I was alive, I wanted him to touch me, so so so much.

"I would have kill for him to take me.

"But now that I’m dead, there’s too much memory, you know?

"Too much resentment.

"I think about it now, and when I think of him trying to take me I cry…because when I think of him taking me, I re-live the wondering and the questioning and the waiting and the wanting and the rejection and the need and the pain and the pain and the so-much confusion and so-much shame.

"I re-live it and I don’t want him no more…not like that.

"How wonderful it would have been, if we had just stayed friends!

"And then I help him maybe, find a nice girl with low libido, too, who no mind if he don’t take her. A girl who don’t remember no pain from him, who want same kind of life he want: of just stay still, of no do things, and no go anywhere, of no look at each other, of live only because your parents want you alive and married – not because you're alive, and in love.

"He deserves wonderful, sweet girl who in love with him deep and is satisfied with all he can give.

"Anyone deserves that.

"He have a lot to give, yes? "Like anyone.

"But don’t, don’t give me his pity touches after the fact.

"After the death.

"Don’t give me because I say I have to leave one day.

"My imaginary man…he gives me because it’s something to share, to savor, wanting me like I want him, glad to want me, relaxed, confident in it, ravenous for it and I give it and I receive it, too, easy and natural as raindrops.

"Because he wants to. "Not because he’s afraid I’ll leave.

"Hell, why would he be afraid?

"He understands that I’m dead and that he’s imaginary.

"There isn’t any ‘there’, so there isn’t any ‘leave’.

"I feel so, so whole, when with him.

"I understand, it not my fault.

"And it’s okay, to be woman and feel this way, to crave so much.

"I was born to love. I was built to be loved.

"It’s in my blood, it part of me, and it’s okay.

"And I can be all of me with a man, not just pieces, only the pieces they like.

"It better, it healthier, when I get to be all of me.

"So yeah.

"I yell at him now, my smart-stupid husband.

"Because now, a couple times a week, I see him get the shovel.

"And I know where he’s going.

"He goes to the grave I bought, and I tell him, ‘Don’t you do it! Don’t you do it, she tried everything!!!

"'She was good girl, she deserves peace, she should have respect. Let her rest! Don’t you know she’s dead?’

"But he doesn’t believe me.

"He doesn’t want to believe she’s dead, the girl.

"He wants to believe she’s shining and buried alive and that he can save her.

"So he digs and I yell at him!

"He wants to dig up the corpse of the dead girl to love him again.

"And he shovel, and the dirt comes back to hit me in the face: the live woman!

"He’d bury me if he could. If he could admit to himself clearly that he prefers things that way: me, the live woman, dead, breathing and buried, and the dead girl exposed, ashamed and aching in the too-bright air with not a breath in her--”

I gasp inwards, desperate, as if drowning.

That’s it. The last straw.

And I let the gasp out in a sudden scream:

“Alright!!! Alright, lady, alright already!”

Her eye goes wide, and she flinches, the crow fidgeting and flapping on her shoulder.

I pant, “I get you. I heard you. Okay? Understand? It’s alright. You’ve been heard!

"I’m gonna go now!”

And I don’t have to pull to get my arm back: her hand drops.

And I woulda’ run the rest of the way to the train.

But I’m too dazed to do it.

...I walk away as if I’m never gonna stop walking.

As if I’m gonna walk until I can’t walk anymore.

But slowly the sound comes back to the world. Even if everything is still blue.

So I keep going.

So I finally get to the train station, you know.

And it’s started to rain a little….the scattered, warm, heavy drops that’s real slow and don’t really wet you. Just makes dark dots all over the pavement.

And I’m right: the train that arrives is mostly empty, and that makes me feel real good, because my dogs are barking and so is my head.

...There’s no way I’ll be able to read my book.

Was looking forward to it, too…something about a steamy romance, high fantasy and adventure.

But there’s just no way.

Somehow, romance is not alive in my head right now.

It’s dead.

Like the Woman.

…No.

Like the Girl.

...I feel tired.

But you know….the train takes off like always.

It’ll be good, to get home.

I’m thinking I’ll cook curry tonight.

…But…I shit you not, I can’t even.

I can’t even, cause you know…ten minutes into the trip, there’s always this cemetery we pass by.

And it’s usually empty unless there’s a funeral, all the stones at peace.

Except not today.

There’s one stone that’s not at peace,

I SHIT YOU NOT,

this guy is there, and has this huge poster on display next to the gravestone, of a young girl: dark-haired, dark-eyed, glowing, she looks like she’s not quite from here.

And she’s got on this frilly cute dress, on the poster.

And on the poster, the sun is shining brightly, not one cloud in the sky.

And the girl on the poster’s smiling so hard she looks like she’ll break.

And he’s got flowers circled all around the poster, and he’s smiling so hard it looks like he’ll break.

And there’s banners in the trees, saying, ‘Welcome Back! Welcome Home!’

And he’s got a shovel, you know, and I can see it: his mouth moving, giving all these assurances and placations to the cold, cold ground, and he’s digging like mad.

To get at the poor girl’s dead corpse.

And there’s the smart-dressed woman with the crow on her shoulder and her one remaining eye, and she’s yelling at him.

[mlmxreader]

An Officer & A Gentleman | Alejandro Vargas x trans!m!reader

anonymous asked: Here we go then(thank you though:))

I wanted to request for alejandro vargas x pakistani!ftm reader who is a pilot and they have this annual award ceremony thing and alejandro has never seen reader in a suit so when he sees reader this prompt is brought up "You're just... fuck me, you look so good right now" and later as reader is talking to some of his fellow air force pilots this prompt is brought up “Can I have this dance?”

Sorry if this is too specific or non-specific and if you don't feel comfortable doing it then its cool :)

-����

summary: the Pakistan Air Force holds various ceremonies and celebrations throughout the year, and usually, you don't see the point in going - but with Alejandro at your hide, maybe there was a reason to go.

tws: swearing

Usually, you never went to the award ceremonies or any of the other celebrations that were common for the Pakistan Air Force to host, as you never really saw much point in it; sure, the caterers that they always brought in always made the most magnificent food, and free drinks and dancing were appreciated as well - especially when they brought in the fancy coffee machines and had a choice selection of different iced coffees to choose from - but other than that, you didn't see much point. You only agreed this year because Ansharah had begged you to go, pleading with you and promising you that, if you did, her wife Salome would make her famous Nigerian party rice from a family recipe for you and Alejandro; if only for the fact that Salome would give you food, you agreed to go.

Alejandro was eager to go anyway, wanting to share pride in what you had done in your career and, admittedly, wanting to steal the food and the drinks and take advantage of the fact that it was all free; he had had traditional Pakistani food before, but nothing could come close to it being authentically made. It was why he always pestered you to cook when you were home together, and although you were happy to share with him some of your family's recipes and dishes, you did encourage him to bring some plastic tubs and sandwich bags so that you could have leftovers tomorrow. The only thing was that you were working, and wouldn't have time to pick Alejandro up before you had to go to the stupid ceremony thing; Ansharah and Salome said they would grab him on their way, and you were more than thankful towards them for that.

You only just had enough time to change into your uniform suit; dark blue, it suited you well, and with all your decorations on it, it looked even better. It fitted you perfectly, as was to be expected, but it was warm and it was comfortable; you did worry a while ago, that when you came out as trans, they would force you to wear the wrong one - but they didn't. They changed the uniforms immediately so that you had the correct one, without even needing to hear anything further. Now you had this one, and the dark blue blazer felt like a hug as you shrugged it on and did up the buttons before putting your cap on. You had to admit: you looked fucking good.

It was just about to begin when you met Ansharah, Salome and Alejandro outside, apologising breathlessly until you noticed the way that Alejandro looked at you.

"What?"

"Nothing, amor," he shook his head, hardly able to keep the grin from his face. "You're just... fuck me, you look so good right now... how come I've never seen you dressed like this before, huh?"

You shrugged, taking your cap off so that you could wipe the sweat from your forehead. "I don't wear it unless it's for formal bullshit like this."

Ansharah glared at you playfully. "Mūrakh, don't say that!"

"Well, it's true," you chuckled, shrugging. "Salome... piyār, did you bring the party rice?"

Salome nodded, smiling fondly at you as she tried not to laugh. "Yes, I did, obi ụtọ. It's in the car waiting for you both."

"You are a lifesaver," you told her seriously. "I love you."

"You're the little brother I never thought I'd have," she joked softly, playfully smacking the back of your head. "Go on, get inside."

Laughing, you took Alejandro's arm, and escorted him inside; there were a few greetings exchanged with higher officers, all very keen to meet the man who had captured their pilot's heart, all very impressed when Alejandro told them that he was a Colonel. One of the highest ranking officers, Ahmed, even said so himself that he was proud of you for managing to get with someone like Alejandro; he liked him, said he was a good man and if he ever needed a place for the Los Vaqueros to stay, there was always a bed for them with the Pakistan Air Force. You made your way around, stopping nearly constantly to fill up the sandwich bags and plastic tubs with food from the tables and from the waiters who were wandering around.

"Amor, we'll run out of space, soon," Alejandro pointed out.

"So we can stuff our pockets as well," you shrugged. "It's free food, Ale."

He laughed, shaking his head as a certain fondness came to his eyes; but then he noticed an old song by Chuck Berry playing, and he noticed that there was a space for dancing, Alejandro knew that before you left and before you made a move to go anywhere at all, he had to have just one dance with you. Just one dance, even if only because he could and because there was finally an excuse for it; Alejandro had to have just one dance with you, just one slow and steady dance, nothing fancy and nothing too energetic, just one slow dance. Just one dance where he could hold you close and he could feel your body against his own, where he could actually admire the suit that you were wearing. Just one dance.

There were some more officers to talk to, some more pilots and their spouses and partners to catch up with, and when one of the pilots from your squadron brought over his son, you picked one of him up, and grinned.

"You've gotten so big!" You chuckled. "When I last saw you, you were only diddy."

The child laughed, shaking his head. "I'm six now!"

"Six?!" You acted surprised. "Alejandro, can you believe he's six?"

"No, amor," Alejandro chuckled as he played along. "Six?"

"Six!" The child nodded. "akala, I'm nearly as old as you!"

You laughed as you nodded. "Nearly, kid, nearly... how are you doing at school?"

"I like Science!" He told you excitedly.

"Yeah?" You asked. "I liked science when I was in school, too."

"And me," Alejandro nodded. "I was good at it, too, mijo."

"So I can be like both of you!" The child beamed.

You shrugged. "Maybe - maybe if you're nice to your akala Alejandro, he'll help with your homework..." you pretended to whisper, "he's really good with the maths side of things."

"Your Tío (y/n) is no good with maths," Alejandro warned. "Absolutely terrible."

"I'm not that bad!" You told him with a yelp.

"You asked me what three times one was," he pointed out. "Mijo, don't let him near your homework."

"Go play with the others," you said, setting the child down gently. "I need to tell your akala Alejandro off."

"Is it because he called you stupid?"

"Yes," you laughed, ruffling his hair before sending him on his way. You turned to Alejandro with a playful glare. "I'm not that bad!"

"Sí, amor, you really are," he laughed when you playfully smacked his shoulder. "I love you, but you're no good with maths."

"I hate you," you chuckled, quickly kissing him. "Just for that, I'm gonna abandon you so I can go talk to Ansharah."

"You're evil," he told you, grinning.

But he wasn't going to let you be alone so easily, and when you started laughing and joking around with Ansharah and a few of the other pilots, Alejandro took his moment; he waited for a slow and gentle song to play before he came up behind you, tapping your shoulder as he smiled, handing his bag to Salome with a thankful nod.

"Amor, can I have this dance?"

Putting your hand in his, you nodded. "As long as you behave."

"No promises."

You grinned. Maybe it was worth attending these events after all; maybe you didn't want to show up just for free food that was promised for you. Maybe you would show up to the next one, so long as you could bring Alejandro along with you. As long as you had Alejandro at your side, maybe there was a point of going to these things.

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM.

[mudassarali]

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Online shopping for Pakistani clothing in the USA combines convenience, variety, and a connection to a rich cultural past in a wonderful way. You may experience fine embroidery, brilliant colors, and traditional beauty. This characterizes Pakistani clothes thanks to the accessibility of this lovely trend. The online world of Pakistani fashion is prepared to boost your style and encompass you in the country's culture. Whether you're searching for amazing bridal clothes, comfortable daily wear, or anything in between.

Convenience is probably the most major benefit. You may buy online whenever you choose. Without leaving the comfort of your home and without having to deal with traffic or observe store opening hours. Those with busy schedules will especially value this convenience.

Compared to traditional establishments, online stores usually offer a wider selection of goods. You have access to products from several countries, increasing your possibilities and allowing you to locate special or specialized products. Online shopping removes the need to manage overcrowded malls or stores. Which can be especially useful during busy shopping seasons or in times of social withdrawal.

Numerous retailers on the internet modify offers and suggestions based on your browsing and purchasing history using algorithms. Ensuring that your shopping experience is personalized to your tastes. Numerous benefits of Internet shopping make it a practical and effective way to buy a variety of goods and services. Online buying will continue to become increasingly easier to use and more accessible as technology advances, improving the whole purchasing experience.

[myfabricoz]

This exquisite chiffon embroidered suit is sure to turn heads. Cut from quality designer green fabric, it's ideal for festive occasions and Pakistani clothing. Perfect for an effortlessly stylish look. Free Shipping Globally. https://www.fabricoz.com/collections/pakistani-dresses-party-wear

[uniquewallartukshop]

Green Embroidered Salwar Kameez Dress, Formal 3 Piece Suit, Long Sleeve Pakistani Suit, Handmade Designer Traditional Wear, Readymade Dress

Our Green Embroidered Salwar Kameez Dress is a gorgeous addition to any formal wardrobe. This formal 3 piece suit is adorned with a fully embroidered design that exemplifies sophistication and grace.

The exquisite detailing of the embroidery enhances the delicate beautiful 3 piece suit, creating a look that is eye-catching and timeless. It is ideal for formal events or traditional wear.

This embroidery design suit offers a comfortable fit. Tailored for the discerning woman, this long sleeve traditional wear captures the essence of femininity and classic charm in every stitch.

Indulge in traditional elegance with our Green embroidered salwar kameez dress featuring a embroidered cambric cotton shirt, silk dupatta and cambric trouser.

🌟Product Details 🌟

Stitched 3-Piece Shirt: .: Colour: Green .: Fabric: Cambric Cotton fabric with a smooth finish .: Style: Straight cut with fully Embroidered .: Sleeves: Long sleeves

Trouser: .: Colour: Green .: Fabric: Cambric .: Style: Straight fit

Dupatta: .: Colour: Soft Multi .: Fabric: Silk .: Embroidery: Delicate patterns throughout

[aurafasion]

In recent years, children’s fashion has evolved, breaking traditional boundaries and redefining what style means for the younger generation. The Best Kids Fashion Designers in Pune are pioneering this shift, creating premium, high-quality kidswear that combines comfort, creativity, and elegance. From trendy party dresses to everyday essentials, they’re crafting pieces that inspire confidence in kids and delight parents alike. If you're looking to buy party wear dresses for kids online or seeking high-end, authentic designs like original Pakistani suits, Pune’s top designers have you covered.