A 100 days to a new me: Day 38, ah! vanity

 

one of my favourite ‘vanity songs’…so apt..;)

Well day 38, and I am back to the roly poly me. Guests, work, viral, I have eve1ry excuse in the word but mind the choice of word, EXCUSE! It is just that.The good thing is I see life coming back in control, how I don’t know but it is. So if the in control days can outnumber the out of control or the crab days as I call them; I shall move forward even if it is at the tortoise pace. He did win the race after all, did he not?

I remember a slimmer time, when I had this friend from Lucknow, long  straight hair, big eyes. She used to wear these beautiful Lucknawi kurtis with white churidars, I was so influenced that summer. All North Indian women have gone through the chikan kurtis stage, so much so that it seems to have become the most clichéd summer style statement ever.

I, in my heart am an edgy dresser; however given my body type, the edge stays firmly there…in the heart. I have done the loads of silver, and ultra ethnic look and fusion works for me. Most of my Europe tour was in a bandhani  and a mirror work skirt, it was a ghaghra if you ask me , coupled with modern tops and my beret…(yes I am addicted to the beret…as many of my friends know by now).However, I wasn’t so amused when this British guy in Greenwich was it?? , looks at me and says, ghagra choli.

Anyway the long and short of it is, I am not getting much slimmer, so I have defined my style statement for the summer. It’s sarees and  chikan kurtis with leheriya dupattas and if I feel like it, ikkat, bandhani  or block print bottom…as for the colour. God is my witness, every year the colour chooses me rather than the other way round and I also go through these completely filmy, techno-colour phases, where I can easy be mistaken for the shade card of a leading paint company. All this coupled with ethnic jewellery, I am particularly fond of this collection of  painted terracotta earrings, I keep buying and losing. I have heard writers say, the look is not important, to me I need to feel beautiful to write beautiful. My look influences my writing and vice versa.

How do you expect me to write of magic and romance when I feel like a frump? I need to look creative, experiment with my look and it comes from the inside rather than the outside. Honest to God, I feel that clothes pick me at times, rather than the other way round, and when that happens; I am at my most beautiful.  That and a glorious skin that simply needs a combination of water, sleep, prayers and walk, out of which I am only following the water rule, that too partially. Both my grandma and mom had  phenomenal skin , I, unfortunately, am the third generation of picking the wrong genes, the result isn’t exactly stunning…however they had excellent skins because they did not over-scrub, over facial (is that even a term?) or over anything and am a huge fan of the natural way…everything else is marketing. Now the Botoxes of the world are another story but except for that, it’s Aloe Vera, yoghurt, honey…just that if at all.

All my life I have used a mixture of gram flour mixed with either milk or yoghurt, depending on the weather, along with a pinch of turmeric and honey. It works, as does plain yoghurt for removing a tan. The bestest skin formula of course! is happiness and romantic love (if  available), to me it’s easier walking to the moon…Anyway my skin isn’t good , isn’t bad but it has its outstanding days, all I need is to follow my own advice. So till I do that, which I shall come what may, starting tomorrow, for now it is  hot pink nails…AH Vanity!!..:)

Image  The black mark on my fore finger is from the assembly elections, barely is it gone, and the next elections are round the corner…but I feel this is a fashion statement in its right; it shows you are opinonated and care to exercise your vote, however politics, bibles and billet doux are  topics  for another post …for now it’s just pure puffs and powders…

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