The Hindu Business Line : That tug at the purse-strings

The neon signs beckon on every shopping street in Bangalore. With a flash of lights, a blaze of colour, a bevy of model-pretty salesgirls, the big brands march into our malls. Levi's jeans and Reebok trainers. Sony music systems and Bose speakers. Canon cameras and Intergold solitaires. Revlon lipstick and Dior perfumes. Pizza Hut and Kentucky Fried Chicken. Godiva chocolates and Italian sun-dried tomatoes.

Before we can flash our credit cards, our lives in metropolitan India have been merged with the global marketplace. Now that international quality is just an arm's reach away — at Commercial Street or Brigade Road or M G Road — do we have the buying power to match? Have our pocketbooks kept pace with material aspirations? Has desi taken a back seat to designer labels? Or are we feeling the pinch of a recession as post-September 11 reality bites? What have these mind-boggling choices meant to the working woman in Bangalore?

"Earlier, I would buy all the branded stuff directly from abroad and buy the rest from budgeted handicraft stores in India," says Shukla Bose, 47, formerly managing director of the US-based Resort Condominiums International (RCI), who's opted to be MD of RCI-affiliated Christel House since this year, focussing on a large-hearted learning project for underprivileged children. "Today, I have stopped buying abroad and continue to shop in Indian ethnic stores. I have scaled down my needs drastically." Shukla, who has consciously opted for a lower income, feels the crunch mainly with an eye on her passion — buying art.

Micky Zaveri, 38, who paints ceramic ware for her family-owned Ishika enterprise, states, "With our children, Jigar (13) and Saaniya (8) growing up, I don't feel tempted by foreign brands now that they are freely available here. But I wouldn't scrounge on Rs 2,500 sports shoes or gear for Jigar, who's keen on basketball."

An editorial consultant, 47-year-old Melanie P Kumar, views the current market through an alternate lens: "When we got married in 1980, my husband, who teaches political science at Bangalore University, and I decided to `be Indian, buy Indian.' We've been consciously buying from Janata Bazaars. If it's chocolates, we'll hunt for Amul; if it's soap, our choice is Mysore sandal. Pepsi and Coke never enter our home. We prefer Kissan squash. We feel strongly about supporting local enterprise in the face of multinationals."

A different slant is voiced by Smitha Cariappa, 36, an artist whose income cycle is never constant. She spent a year at a residency at Newcastle-on-Tyne in the UK in 1997-98.

"I was exposed to foreign brands fairly early, when I travelled to Europe with my parents at 15. The Levis, Wranglers and T-shirts I bought then are still in my wardrobe. So, I prefer to shop for unique Indian textiles and style my own clothes creatively, instead of buying readymades."

Thanks to an enhanced family income, Melanie feels she's begun spending more freely over the past five years. How is this reflected?

"When we entertained, I used to sweat it out in the kitchen and cook an elaborate spread, then do the dishes," she explains. "But now we tend to invite our guests out to dinner at a club where we have a membership."

Does eating out figure high on the universal list? Pavithra G., 35, a senior executive in the communications department of a pharmaceutical company, says, "Since both my husband and I work, eating out is almost a daily affair."

Pavithra and her husband chose to take a loan to build an independent home. Has she perceived a radical change in her individual outlay? "Five years ago, not only was my income on the lower side, I had major commitments," she responds. "All these years, I've saved and repaid our housing loan. Now I can breathe easy, which is a heavenly feeling. And so, I spend more. I'm lured by the imported shoes, clothes and toys in the market."

Education, both for themselves and for their offspring, figures high on budgets. Smitha confesses, "I tend to splurge on books on art, textiles or fashion. These feed into my art work."

Melanie says, "My husband, our 17-year-old daughter Nimisha, and I spend much more on books these days. That's despite a 10-year membership of the Eloor lending library. Nimisha's never been brand conscious, but I do buy her clothes and shoes she asks for because it's important for her to look pretty. I've invested in a yoga course and done two degrees of Reiki."

Shukla adds, "Education figures in a big way since my daughter is studying abroad." What about schooling at home? Pavithra's young son goes to a good private school. "The school fee and van expenses together add up to Rs 40,000 a year," she says. "That's a major chunk, but it's important to us."

Do branded white goods cast a spell on woman buyers? "A mixie, a microwave, an air-conditioner — these are no longer luxuries, but necessities," feels Micky.

There's an undeniable mystery to faraway climes, exotic locales. How easily to women succumb to it?

"We tend to holiday in Karnataka. Or in Chennai, where by brother and sister live," says Melanie. Pavithra adds, "As a family, we spend between Rs. 10,000 and Rs 15,000 a year on travel."

Is charity a state of mind, one that triggers a loosening of the purse strings? Micky says, "I feel charity should begin at home. So, I take care of the basic needs and the education of my domestic help." As for Melanie's stance: "For the past two or three years, we've regularly supported the education of a few underprivileged children."

On a more personal level, what kind of spending feeds the soul? "I would buy a lot of art earlier, which I cannot afford these days," replies Shukla. From an artist's point of view, Smitha says, "I love buying art objects in the form of a leaf — whether in metal, glass or ceramic. I used to indulge in cassettes of old film songs by Mukesh, Asha Bhonsle or Mohammed Rafi, but now I'm more into fusion music." She stresses, "I don't get back whatever I spend on my artwork. All I gain is a sense of personal satisfaction."

From art to Aquafina, from homes to humidors, from cigarillos to cosmetic surgery, it's a brave new world that beckons today's Indian woman of means. Within the limits of each to her own, with choices unlimited.

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