InternationalFinding a tie that binds (to one's Armenian heritage)
Published: Wednesday June 09, 2010
Why stop at tricolor tie?. Hayruhi Markarian
Haverhill, Mass. - Truth be told, I hate neckties. Always have. Always will. The thought of having a noose around my neck leaves me limp with discomfort.
But there are occasions when I must be sentenced to death like weddings, funerals and other formal affairs.
After buttoning a tight collar, then slipping a tie knot to my neck, I cannot survive, especially on a sweltering July day. They strangle my mind and prevent me from thinking straight. When I go to loosen it a bit so I can breathe, I'm accused of being a slob.
My rebellion against neckties was somewhat assuaged one day when I came across an Armenian crafts fair selling Mount Ararat ties. They were being offered in two different colors --- red and blue.
I purchased one of each so nobody could accused me of being mundane. Little did I realize at the time that others also made the same purchase and six of us would show up at church wearing the same ties with little images of Massis being portrayed.
If nothing else, it demonstrated my ethnic pride and made the obligation of wearing neckties a bit more tolerable. My other ties were quickly forgotten.
As to our national colors, rest assured. They're being well documented. I've come across a Tricolor beret, key chains by the dozen, tee-shirts and blazers, umbrellas, headbands, yes, even shoelaces, however hokey that may be.
Over time, my two Ararat ties became worn with age. They would never be replaced. They were as close to me as my heritage.
Until a partner came along to give them competition. I searched high and low for a Tricolor tie --- one with the colors red, blue and orange intertwined. I looked in department stores, church fairs, second-hand outlets and notion shops.
I sent counter clerks scurrying frantically about. All they got was an exercise in futility. I would find two of the colors but not the third.
"It's hit or miss," a fellow told me. He found one by pure luck after picking through a tie rack. I don't know what the odds are but let's say it's a pearl in an oyster. "I couldn't resist it," he added. "Makes you wanna wear a tie."
Now this is a guy who wouldn't be caught dead with a tie, even if his wife threatened divorce. He shows up at a cotillion in a short-sleeved shirt worn loose with his chest hair showing. He doesn't care what people think of it.
He lives in a comfort zone and that's the way it is. I've always envied his tenacity.
One day in church, I had on the Ararat tie and a woman complimented it. Seta Ohannessian comes from Beirut and is a soloist in the choir. She's also a gifted seamstress who designs and makes clerical vestments for priests, bishops, even a Catholicos.
I told Seta that although I like the Ararat tie, I would give my inheritance for a Tricolor tie.
"I've searched high and low, near and far," I told her. "I have a Tricolor camera strap, a Tricolor sail for my boat. I fly the Tricolor at my summer camp. But no necktie with the three colors."
"Let's see what tomorrow will bring," she said.
I didn't take the woman seriously until one Sunday, a few weeks later, she showed up with a box.
"Go ahead, open it," she said with a smile.
I tore open the contents and lo! As if some god had answered my prayer, there it was --- the tie of my dreams.
"Do you like it?" she wondered.
It was a solid color with red, blue and orange stripes going diagonally rather delicately. I felt like a youngster getting his first bicycle.
"How much do I owe you?"
"Nothing," she said. "Consider it a gift. Wear it proudly and if others want one, I can sell them."
All of a sudden, I became an advertising salesman. No longer did I wear the Ararat ties. They were relegated to the mountains. On came the replacement.
Guys began taking notice and inquired as to its origin.
"Seta's making them. See her."
The woman from Lebanon is drumming up quite the necktie business these days and should you drop by my church, you just might find four of five guys wearing the same Tricolor tie.
