Friday, April 09, 2010

A Hiatus from Blogging


Last year, on the same date as today, I had posted a short post (quite unlike my rambling sorts), about a hiatus from my blogging.

This year too, it is time to kiss my trusty laptop bye and place my writing on pause mode.

So while it was the city of Lovers last year, this year is the land of gondolas and gelatos, pizzas and Prada, Carnival masks, cappuccinos, Chianti and Cavalli, Versace and Valentino, biscottis and Bvlgari, fettucine and Fendi, and TOOMA’s preferred Armani and Diesel.

Can’t wait to be off!

Back on the 21st.

Will catch up soon! Toodles!

Wednesday, April 07, 2010

Men's Fashion Bloopers


The other day I saw a guy walk past me nonchalantly, a bright tie in harmony with his otherwise sombre shirt, both colors offsetting each other to perfection.

While on any other day I would have looked aside, that day I took a different course of action – craning my head to give him a second glance.

Let me assure you though – the guy was no Brad Pitt look-alike. Far from it.

But yes, he sure looked straight out of the pages of a ‘What-men-should-no- wear’ handbook.

That nonchalance sure seemed a bit misplaced, considering people were openly sniggering at what he had chosen to don for the day – a tie with a short-sleeved shirt. Now, that’s a style best left to beefy male models on the ramp. And even they try to talk their way out of committing that faux pas.

Of course we’ve all seen men who wear trousers that are short. Or so long that they could pass off as a bride’s trail. Or so droopy that they look like gangsters. We’ve seen men who wear socks with sandals. You have the dudes who wear dungarees. There are those who suck in their bellies and swear by their Bermudas, no matter how ludicrous they may seem in them. There are the lovers of the tight-tees-that-make-breathing-a-problem. We’ve seen them all – and openly wondered at their daring and obvious (lack of) style statement.

Now, I’m all for democracy. I do try my best (these days) not to laugh my head right off when I see people of my gender do the dressed-to-kill routine. And I mean, literally. Think pink - gloss, talons, skirt, peasant top, bag, hell – footwear – and you are bound to appreciate even Reese Witherspoon from Legally Blonde. Or another case – my sisters who decide one day that they needed to spice up their dull lives – and slather all the glittery makeup they possess –on the same day.

Coming back to the case in question – what are some of the items that some men find so cool, thinking that they leave behind them a bevy of heady admirers, when they are only the cause of much merriment, barely-restrained guffaws and eye-popping dazedness?

1. Men wearing skinny jeans – They can barely walk, what with appendages that beg to be released from strangulatory contraptions. The best gift that these men can get is a pair of scissors – fast!
2. The Aladdin-pointed shoes – Every cockroach’s nightmare. They can easily needle cockroaches with them. Or dig. Or play darts with. Or write with them if their pens run out of ink. Or flick stones from the gravel. Let your imagination run amok...Add to that the Cowboy-strut and you have your very own preening peacock which, sadly, looks every bit gay
3. The I’m-so-cool-I-wear-my-younger-sister’s Tees – because of him, a female sibling somewhere is without her favourite t-shirt. He squeezes himself into her (pink) t-shirt, promptly calls himself metrosexual and saunters cockily to the coffee bar, thumbs-inside-his-jeans pockets. He’s a sight for sore eyes – especially when he decides to stand on tiptoe to reach out for a cookie jar– and gives you a much-forgettable glimpse of his hairy stomach. That you don’t finish your cappuccino- is guaranteed...
4. Cutesy shirts – The last thing you want to see a fat, balding man in is a yellow shirt that proclaims him to be ‘Cho Chweet’ – in hard-to-miss bold lettering. Or a beige T-shirt with a Donald Duck staring right at you in all his orange glory. Do us a favour, will ya – snap back out of your fantasy land, and get hold of your 7-year old great-grand nephew. Better still - make your barbeque grill happy!
5. The Patterned-King – think check-shirts and trousers with vertical stripes – get the drift? They sway while they walk – doing nothing to help that throbbing headache and pained eyes they leave you with.
6. The Mountaineers / Astronauts – now I can understand that Woodlands makes some good pairs of hiking shoes. Must these clunky, chunky bits be worn to the office, mall, neighbourhood grocery store, everywhere - that is my question?
7. The shine stars – Look it’s a peacock. It’s a gleaming scooter. It’s Asimo – the Honda robot. Ohhh – it’s just someone in his silver vest and shiny black trousers. This look is best avoided – unless you want a teenager to stare into your shiny shirt and hand-comb his hair. Or be asked your price by some leering-smacking-her-lips-hormonally-overcharged forty-something lady...
8. The Hangers – Ass hanging out, they walk jauntily – sometimes when their jeans pockets look they would be kissing the floor, they flick their wrists and do a wriggling motion to pull them up – and thus give their innerwear (on display) some respite. This is repeated once every five minutes. There is immense help at hand – by walking into the nearest denim store.
9. The wrong shirt-tuckers – their shirts ill-fit them. Keeping them out is sloppy. Tucking them in is equally a no-no – the unflattering lump they form below the waist does nothing to dissuade many an amused viewer from smiling.
10. The Colourful bloke – this guy has obviously not woken up to the mantra of less is more. He has had a decidedly dull moment, and insists on wearing all colours in his wardrobe at the same time. A rainbow would blush at his sight, and disappear just as fast as it appeared over the horizon

Think I’ve missed out some fashion bloopers that men make?
I told ya I am a Democrat – Add them here. Gee- thanks.

Thursday, April 01, 2010

Egosurfing at its best


I’m a successful real estate agent. Apparently I round up gullible clients and take them on twenty-kilometre-drives through the dusty by lanes of the city. I then charm my way through their pockets, making them pay through their nose for just about average apartments.
It also appears that I moonlight as a Post-doctoral researcher, glasses perched over my nose.
I often test my vocal chords (and patience) as a college lecturer at a suburban college.
When I am not busy expanding my training business, I reach out for my favourite sketching pencil and start work on the next wedding gown design - after all, I am counted among the city’s leading wedding dresses designers.
I slogged for last year’s civil services examinations. That I didn’t clear is another story.
Safety is my middle name - I am a Fire Engineer.
I launch educational programmes for expectant mothers – sure is a lovely sight - me sitting around with women with bulging bellies.
I churn out career advice to students.
And the coolest - I accept applications for an International Mental School in Australia.


None of the above are me, I should add.

I’m coming clean on this one...

Some would call me an ego surfer. Some would tut-tut and shake their heads in pity.

People are divided in their opinions – while some indulgently overlook it, there are also those who would condemn me to eternal perdition for being, as they would term it, ‘swollen with pride.’ Social acceptance stills seems a long, long way ahead.

My sin?

I occasionally Google myself.

And quite a few fun things pop out when I do. I have more namesakes than I can count on my fingers. And the hangover of this eavesdropping on oneself in the cyberworld is delicious, to say the least...

Is this that bad? Is it that awful to have an urge to know whether you are digitally distinct or not? And in a virtual world where I might come across a person who may know everything about me, I’d rather know what he’s been reading about me online. So there comes the handy Google tool. Thank you very much.

When Homer Simpson did it, he was called funny. Yet if I do it, appellations like 'weird' and 'unnatural' freely do the rounds. Wonder why the disconnect!

It’s not altogether uncommon. But there are of course those souls who are in constant denial. They might actually peep surreptitiously on the Google main page, filling in names of friends, ex-es, bosses, sworn enemies, and while they are at it – type in theirs too. Just for a lark sometimes. Yet they feign ignorance whenever a mention comes up of what they do(n’t) carry out clandestinely.

Is it such a sad, sad thing to do?

I think not.

There are benefits to this vanity-searching – self-Googling lets you know if any joker out there has posted something embarrassing, inaccurate or downright malignant about you. But of course, if you are on the addictive path, it could lead to what is now called Googlitis.

And if this ego-surfing cheers me up on a gloomy, rainy day, I’d say it’s worth the raised eyebrows...

What do the rest say?