There are men who'll tell you they always had an eye for style. I am not one of those men. I’ve always had a stylist. Her name was Mom, sometimes maaa, sometimes mummy. I just didn't know it was my mom.
As a toddler, my mother had me dressed for an audience, which, seeing how we lived abroad, was usually my dad and whichever aunt was visiting. She was working on instinct and a lifelong education received from Femina magazine. I was simply the canvas, blissfully unaware and probably drooling all over myself.
Then came the corduroys. Seven years old, fine-ribbed trousers, pulled up to the ribcage. I didn't appreciate it then (probably don’t even now), but what I didn't notice was that she was already giving me a proper education when it came to quality, proper fabric, proper structure. At seven years old, I just thought that the trousers were not pyjamas, hence uncomfortable. She knew they looked good and felt better.
Then I became a teenager and everything started to change.
She had taste. I had black t-shirts with death metal band names on them and a leather bracelet. I wore them like it was my personality. Dark and brooding. Devoid of any life or, more importantly, colour. I thought I'd outgrown her choices, often labelling her suggestions as mummy choices. Like the time she tried to move me into chambray pyjamas. I had thick woollen sweatpants I'd been wearing for the better part of a year and absolutely no intention of changing.
Looking back, it was just a teenage boy being spectacularly wrong and too stubborn for his own good.
She let it go. She didn't make a fuss. She just waited. She’s always been kind and patient that way.
Meditations of a grown man
And then the rebellion ended. It wasn’t loud, nor did it end in the kind of theatrics you see in the movies. It ended with the quiet resignation and realisation that it was time to grow up. The black t-shirts no longer made sense because I was no longer that person. Puberty had led to adulthood. The darkness had passed, and I realised that I had to grow into the person that I was becoming. A fully realised self, with multitudes and contradictions, flaws, insecurities, and quirks. And colour. A whole lot of colour, especially baby pink. I’ve grown to love that on my skin.
And that’s when I noticed that somewhere between the corduroy and the chambray, mom's taste and choices were always there. That instinct for quality. That knack to find a good deal when I saw one. A staunch refusal to settle for fabric and feel. I didn't know I had learnt any of this from her until I started making my own choices.
Now 35, I won't wear a t-shirt that isn't a XYXX Supima cotton. I refuse to live in discomfort when my mom taught me better. I won't reach for denim in Mumbai heat when I have XYXX Zero Pants hanging in my cupboard. Again, my mom taught me better.
Even on days I want to stand out without looking like I thought about it too much, I have my XYXX oversized t-shirts. It’s a conscious choice made by my unconscious learnings, all thanks to my mom. Then there’s my *for office use only* collection, the XYXX Supima Polo. A classic look that everyone can appreciate. None of these feels like discoveries. They feel like destinations I was bound to end up at.
She planted all of it. I just took thirty-odd years to grow into it
When I first met my wife, one of the first compliments she gave me was that I don’t dress like a man-child. This was one compliment that went straight in the win column. And there is exactly one person to credit for it.
So. This one's for you, Mum. I'm sorry about the sweatpants. I should have listened earlier. Thank you for not giving up on me or my wardrobe.
FAQs
Does fabric quality actually make a visible difference in how you dress?
More than most people expect — and it shows up in the small things. How a piece holds its shape after washing, how it drapes, whether it still looks intentional three months in. Quality fabric doesn't just feel better. It behaves better.
What makes Supima cotton different from regular cotton?
Supima uses a longer-staple fibre, which makes it 4x softer, 2x stronger, and more resistant to pilling. Regular cotton works. Supima works harder and for longer.
Are Zero Pants a practical everyday choice or more of a style piece?
Both — that's the point. Built for movement, designed for heat, reads like a considered wardrobe decision. For anyone navigating Mumbai summers, they're less of an upgrade and more of an obvious correction.
Read Next
- Why Zero Pants Are Replacing Office Trousers in 2026 — and How to Style Them Right
- The GSM Factor: Unlock Real Comfort and Lasting Durability in T-Shirts
- T-Shirt Fit Guide for Men: Slim, Regular, or Oversized — Which One Is Right for You?
- Here's Why Your Fabric Choice Is the Real Problem in Indian Summers
BY UMAIRE EFFENDI...
About the author: Umaire Effendi is a writer and film & television professional with over a decade of experience across India and Canada. His cross-cultural background gives him a distinct lens on modern Indian lifestyle, one that understands how India doesn't just follow global culture, but absorbs it, integrates it, and sends something entirely new back out into the world. He writes about men's fashion and culture by taking things apart, the why behind what Indian men wear, and what it says about where we're headed.
