Anklets (andamu)

I never learnt this little one's name; she was an in-law of a cousin of a friend at a pellikooturu. She was about a year old, and after delighting everyone with her antics for a while, she snuggled up on her mum's lap and went to sleep.

Sue over at A Kitchen in Brabant provided the theme for today's post in a comment here.

In Hindi they are called payal, in Telugu, pattelu. Silver anklets ranging from very simple to the highly ornate, most have bells, although some only have two or three at the fastening, while others have bells all over. The heavily ornate versions are usually reserved for special occasions; everyday payal are the simpler, more supple chains with a modest triplet of bells at the clasp.

A quick aside: gold anklets (and toe rings for that matter) are not from India -- or on the off chance that they might have been made there, are certainly not traditional. Gold would never be worn at or even touched by one's feet!

I bought Angel Face a pair of (heavily ornate) anklets when she was three months old. My precious one brought her back a larger set a year ago, and she has outgrown those too now. We gave Anamika a set when she turned six months old - but she has mostly outgrown those now too.
Part of the problem is that we always tend to go for the highly ornate ones when we buy gifts. Those are too stiff to wear all the time and, let's face it, there really aren't that many occasions in America where you dress up enough to wear something like that.

Or even to wear your heavy Kanchipuram sari in jewel colors with the six inch double side zari and the yard long densely worked zari pallu -- and if you know what all of that means, please feel free to commisserate, or to make suggestions.
Bear in mind you're talking to someone who wore Kanchi saris to her graduation, awards ceremonies, honor society inductions and every possible other formal occasion for which there were even half an excuse to do so!

But back to the anklets. My set is supremely comfortable, and I wear them permanently in summer, except when I have to go through airport security - I have enough trouble getting through with my mangalasutram.
In winter I remove them because they tear my socks and the closed shoes catch them and they dig into the skin and chafe.
My toe rings I only remove for surgery, and my mangalasutram only under protest, or when they are replacing the thread where the thalis hang.

This visit to India I will make sure to get both Angel Face and Anamika really comfortable sets, ones that they can also wear permanently. It is such an evocative sight: chubby little legs, curly little toes, and the tinkling and twinkling silver around.