The Missing Churidaar
An average day on Wilmslow Road is always a little different to the average day on the high street. The air is filled with different aromas, of curry, kebabs and sweetmeats. The sound of foreign languages fills the air, deep gruff voices accompanied by the sound of the accordion being played by the old Bosnian lady in her usual spot.. Every few yards a man will have a little stand, selling phone cards for international calls, encouraging passers-by to ring loved ones in India and Pakistan for a few pence a minute. It is nearly always busy; if not with those who are looking for great food, then with those on the hunt for clothes, material, shoes and jewellery. It so happens that I have my tailor in the area, (I usually go for Jubba/ abaya alterations.) Needless to say, he is always happy to see my husband and I, (feel free to do a queens speech voice) and has the utmost respect for those in Islamic dress. So much so, that the first few times I gave him Abaya's...