DJ and host Amrit and writer and model Anaa Saber have given me an address to meet them in Murray Hill—which they refer to as “Curry Hill” because of the vast amount of South Asian stores and food—along with strict instructions not to look it up and see what restaurant we’re going to. They want me to be surprised by our breakfast. We’re meeting there before shopping for their outfits for Diwali, a five-day holiday celebrated in South Asian culture by a multitude of religions including Hinduism, Sikhism, and Buddhism. It’s often referred to as the festival of lights; the ladies refer to it as a New Year. There are
cappello invernale carhartt feasts, hanging of lights, and gift-giving. “For Sikhs, it is also about celebrating justice and freedom because our guru refused to leave prison without his other political prisoners,” Amrit says.
When I am en route, Saber texts me, “see you thereeeee” punctuated with a kissy face and a meme of Sandra Bullock rowing blindfolded down a river in the movie Birdbox. Even though I only know Amrit and Saber through social media, I like them already. Amrit, who goes by her first name publicly, runs the IG Live show Ask Amrit, which focuses on conversations about sex, love, and dating. Saber is a writer who focuses on South Asian designers, and you may have seen her on the runways, too. This past season, she walked Collina Strada alongside her mother. Both women are South Asian. Amrit was born in Singapore and was raised outside of Perth, Australia. She is Sikh and has a Punjabi father and a Gujarati Indian mother, who is also part Thai. Saber was born in Long Island to Pakistani parents and is Muslim.
I end up at the restaurant Saravanaa Bhavan at 81 Lexington Ave. The restaurant, which has a cafeteria vibe, is known for its dosas, a thick, folded pancake that is stuffed with lentils or potatoes. Saber arrives first, wearing a Damson Madder top along with Diesel jeans that I suspect are vintage. “They are new!” she tells me. “I asked my
cappello di lana in inglese friend who works at Diesel for five different washes.” While we wait for Amrit, Saber tells me about growing up in a predominantly white town on Long Island. “I was always craving something different. Obviously, I had darker hair and darker skin. There was no person of color, which is so crazy to think of,” she says. “The way I fit in with my peers was with fashion. I used fashion as a shield.” When Saber got home from school, she’d watch Bollywood movies and dress up in her mom’s saris. “So much drama!” she says.
After starting her career as a trend forecaster and writing for publications like WhoWhatWear, Saber created the blog Our Second Skin to talk about South Asian designers and began modeling. “Being South Asian, it isn’t normal to be in fashion,” says Saber. “It isn’t a typical career path for someone like me. You’re a doctor, you’re a lawyer, you’re an engineer.” Saber is doing just fine though: During COVID-19, she traveled to Pakistan to star in a campaign for the designer Zara Shahjahan. Often, she’ll have other South Asian women DM’ing her their praises. “I always try to put on for my culture,” she says. Recently, she launched @masalafingerz, a burner-turned-cooking account where she whips up homegrown food. “‘Masala fingers’ was a nickname from my friends,” she says.
When Saber arrived in New York City to study at the
dsquared cappello icon Fashion Institute of Technology, she found her crew, many of whom were South Asian. “I think New York opens you up,” says Saber. “You find your tribe.” That’s how she met Amrit. While Amrit—who arrives wearing an Aries Arise top—grew up far from Long Island, she shares similarities with Saber. Over dosas and chole bhature, a spicy chickpea curry and fried bread, she recalls how her Perth suburb wasn’t as diverse when she was growing up as it is now. Her upbringing inspired her Instagram Live show. “Growing up in a South Asian household and the culture in general, sex isn’t something we ever acknowledge. For example, Anaa and I always laugh at when you watch Bollywood films as a kid and your parents cover your eyes because they’re in a revealing dress...they don’t even show sex or kissing!” she says. “I wanted to normalize having open conversations about modern love, dating, and sex. I wanted to facilitate that dialogue because I didn’t have that growing up.”
