Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Wardrobe Woes


Wedding, wardrobe, and women. Can it get more complex than that? Not unless it is a hung Delhi Assembly, 2013. Forget politics, let’s talk wedding shedding.

At a wedding this week, I realized I was stuck in the seventies like the Congress and the world had whizzed past in a swish broom stroke of AAP. Clearly, a lot had changed in the past decade.

In the old simple days, the bride was decked by relatives or friends who knew a thing or two about make-up. Today, like media to controversy, the entire women brigade is drawn to beauty salons. Looking exceptional is not an exclusive preserve of the bride or her friends on the threshold of life changing event. Sonipat Wali Chachi Ji also wants ‘matching-matching’ orchids in her hairdo. Poor thing! She remembered the orchids but forgot to wear underpants, revealing the satin skirt wedged between her ample derriere – embarrassingly obvious through the net fabric of her dress. Forgive me for this gross imagery but sometimes images express better than words.

To think that the ‘look-good’ business is women centric is as erroneous as BJP’s stand on homosexuality. As a result, the groom and his friends arrived much after midnight after a marathon spa session. If you ask me, men look better without lip gloss, blusher and foundation.

Like Obama at Mandela’s funeral, almost everyone gave in to the temptation of self-indulgence. The obsession of clicking selfies was obvious. No wonder ‘Selfie’ is the word of the year. Have you noticed that women are more interested in gawping at their own picture in any group photograph? Nothing wrong with that at all. When one is seeking acceptance on social media, the picture has to be perfect.

So, after tolerating high decibel Honey Singh, when my ear drums protested, I marched towards the DJ like Lalu Ji marched out on bail. Hands crossed at the back – chest out, stomach in.

Me: “Why don’t you play some soft music?”

I didn’t expect him to switch to instrumental music, but I was definitely expecting something more than an indifferent shrug.

Me: “Can you reduce the volume at least?”

Dismissing my dissent and ignoring me like the Congress ignored Shiela Dikshit, he increased the volume. And when I saw teens shaking rhythmically to the beat of ‘Aunty Police Bula Legi’, I decided to shove it. The ego was somewhat bruised, yes.

While waiting endlessly for the groom to arrive, older men sipped wine and women indulged in some solemn discussion about who’s going to wear what for the reception. My friend had a serious problem. She was agonizing over the fact that her footwear did not match her outfit. While we were tsk- tsking over her dilemma, my husband could hardly fathom the seriousness of this discussion.

No point explaining. He won’t get it. For any matching-matching business, you need two X chromosomes.

When it comes to clothes, it makes sense to go by your common-sense. That is, if you decide to give it a chance. At the end of the day, people remember you for how you conduct yourself. And not because your blouse displayed acres of back encased in golden threads. While looking good and dressing well is desirable, an obsession with both kills who you are.


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Picture Courtesy: pininterest.com


Tuesday, December 3, 2013

Calendar Calling


Once upon a time there used to be wall calendars. A month in advance, their arrival reminded us that the New Year was round the corner. Given that my dad was a doctor, medical representatives left an assortment of calendars as souvenirs. While the ones with a scenic view brought joy for me, my brother fancied calendars featuring cars, bikes and Tom Cruise. Ma would then borrow a sketch pen and encircle important family events, payment schedules and PTA meetings. For me, turning a new page was strangely exciting – it signified a new beginning.

Currently, I am on a calendar check spree. In most Gurgaon abodes the humble wall calendar, once a drawing room display has been dumped behind the kitchen door. Instead, I find paintings of Ganesha and Buddha. The universal appeal of the above two deities have sidelined the other 330 million Gods in the Hindu pantheon. Religiosity may not be about displaying divine pictures, but I tend to agree with Richard Dawkins, when he says religiosity recedes with the advancement of knowledge and prosperity.

Coming back to calendars, the transition has been rather smooth. Gods paved way for nature. And nature paved way for Kingfisher models. This weekend I got a sneak-peak of Kingfisher supermodel hunt on ‘NDTV Good Times’. With a voice over by Mantastic Milind, the making of Kingfisher
Calendar has ‘bony creatures’ unlike the mainstream images of women, trying their best to blunt the edges of sleaze to give a sharp sensual shot.

It’s funny. For one, you never get to see a Kingfisher calendar as a drawing room display – not unless you are a friend of the erstwhile king of the good times. It is expensive and exclusive. You only get to see the making of it.

Second, why do they call it a calendar? The appropriate moniker should be ‘Kingfisher Poster’. I am sure, dates, agendas and schedules are the last things on the minds of those who look at them. The demigods of business prefer digital calendars. Any other low brow wall calendar in their plush abode is like Simi Garewal wearing a red ghaghra choli dancing in a Rohit Shetty film.

It is not difficult to understand why paper calendars lost significance in a digital world. The idea of simple paper calendars does not find acceptance with a generation that loves to complicate things.

Let me ask you this. When you want to remember an appointment, or when you have an idea you don’t want to forget, do you write it down or do you digitally record it? I prefer to write appointments on paper so that I can see the plan regardless of whether I can use a phone at the time. When I have an ‘A-Ha’ moment, I always write it down on the nearest scrap available. The act of physically writing something down works better for my diminishing memory. Of course, the scrap gets misplaced and results in chaos, but that's the way it is.

Like Twitter, I am unable embrace digital calendars whole-heartedly. They complicate the simple job of scheduling. You click the day, it pops up on another screen, you set a reminder, then set privacy permissions for entry and yet it beeps when you least expect it to beep!

Once upon a time my paper calendar established its prized location – right above my study table. Today, it is not at ease with the modern sensibilities. So mine hangs behind the study door.

What remains unchanged is the thrill of turning over a new page. 

Also on Huffington Post.

Picture Courtesy: Google Images (www.thenextweb.digicalendar)