My sister calls it a "pain in the neck". She is referring to the label of the blouse that she bought last summer. Her exquisite silk blouse, bought from an expensive shop, was annoying her. The otherwise beautiful garment was rendered almost useless.
"Wow, you simply don't have much to worry about except for a label", I said. "Yes. Not when there is a constant itch behind the neck," she remarked.
I always teased her when she checked this little thing in any apparel before buying. For me it was just a small tag. Of course, it comes with a wealth of information like who made it, the size, which part of the world it was made in and also washing instructions at times. Not many people would notice the amount of things one can learn from the back of a label. Yet, this little encyclopaedia, the label, irked my sister.
Initially, labels just attracted my attention, so I could look for the size. Later, there was more than just the size that I noticed. My sister however, looks for what the labels are made from.
Many times, labels have left some red marks on her body that only increases her determination to get rid of the them. Occasionally, they have also brought with them misery in the form of rashes. On a rare occasion, she could go about with her chores with not much bother as those little tags befriended her.
Soon, my son joined the 'elite' group of people (as my sister puts it) who dislike labels. "Why is my label not soft Mum?" he asked me one day. I don't know why the labels prick when the baby T-shirt is soft, and more baffling is why anyone would care to think about it.
I finally succumbed to the habit of spending time to remove the itch-causing tag successfully. Learning the "art of label removal" now became a necessity.
I can expertly remove the sewn-in ones with ease. In fact, some garments come with tags made of a strange material, that seem to be stuck with glue, but I can remove them without much hassle. Although my learning process was punctuated with a few torn garments, my expertise has now reached a level where I don't leave the faintest trace behind. The garment usually looks as if it didn't come with one. I no longer have information such as the size of the T-shirt or washing instructions. Sometimes, it is a problem because I cannot check my son's "current garment size" but I have a happy child who is itch-free.
Recently, my sister and I went shopping. As I walked, I felt a slight prick from the label. I didn't dare move my hand to my neck, definitely not when my sister was around. I smiled and tried to ignore it. Very soon, the sensation grew into an itch and, after a while, it was simply unbearable. As I put on a brave face, I could hardly think about anything except to steal some "private" time to put my groomed nails to some use. I never thought that a label could bring such agony that my entire evening would be spent dreaming about the right time to scratch blissfully.
When things got out of hand, I finally urged my sister to rush home. Once inside, with the deed done, I heaved a sigh of relief, much to my sister's amusement. Yes, I have to admit, "it's a pain in my neck".
Sudha Subramanian is an independent journalist based in Dubai.
