MAC and Me

A funny thing happened while walking through the mall today. I thought “wouldn’t it be great to be a woman just for a few?” and then realized I actually thought it out loud to Ankit and a couple of people that were walking in our general vicinity.

Let me clarify something – I have no cross dressing fantasies, gender confusion issues, or anything like that. We were walking past all these make-up stores… MAC, Clinique, Lancome and I realized that if I were a woman, I could walk in, sit down in a chair, be offered a non-alcoholic drink which I could pretend was champagne, get more attention than Julia Roberts in “Pretty Woman” and then walk out looking like a million bucks, without spending a single rupee. But instead, I am a guy. They throw soap and deodorant at us, try to get us to buy some cologne and get us out of the store as quickly as possible so they can go back to doing nothing while waiting for a woman to walk in when they can all go “America’s Next Top Model” on her.

But to be a woman for just a few hours, not dealing with PMS, menstruation, cramps and shaving the legs, but being able to change personalities and attitudes simply by changing the shade of lipstick. Innocent virgin pink, boring housewife beige, smoldering temptress red or cocksucking coral with the long lasting moisture crystals. And don’t even get me started on the colors of nail polish. I decided on the spot that I am probably an electric blue.

Before I knew it, Ankit and I were standing in MAC, and there it was… MAC shaving crème. I figured that was as close as I was ever going to get to painting my cheeks a flirty shade of bashful blush. And then suddenly there I was, buying Fix+, a light yet highly refreshing facial spray I can use anytime I need a quick moisturizing pick-me-up (I wonder if it will make me look dewey… Is the dewey look even in anymore?) and of course I couldn’t leave without the Lip Conditioner Stick with SPF 15, which will keep my lips moist and conditioned, without making them glossy or overly noticeable, which is great as I really don’t want to be strolling the streets of Delhi with “blowjob lips” – I would hate to give the wrong impression. But it doesn’t stop there, oh no, my wonderful little sales person also hooked me up with some samples. I hope she offered them because she thinks I will really like them and deserve to indulge ina bit of self pampering and not because she thinks it would be a fun trick to give me false hope for recapturing my rapidly dwindling youth.

So tonight, I have decided I am going to embrace my feminine side. I am going to use my Creamy Coconut Milk Body Scrub with Lemongrass, my L’Occitane en Provence Savon Extra-Doux with Shea Butter and then tuck myself into my bed with the crispy clean sheets and lay my head on the pillow that has been brushed with a special oil to help me sleep and fall into sweet dream sleep. I just hope I don’t have that dream again… The one where I lesbian with an oily T-zone and bad shoes… But if I am wearing electric blue nail polish, it might not be so bad…

Group Sex

It was in the fall of 2006 that I had my last group Sex. It was during one of my then regular weekends in Brussels and a group of us were in Nik’s flat, lounging all over place, eating pizza from Momma Roma and shaking cocktails like there was no tomorrow. There we were, pillows scattered all over the floor, relaxing after an exhausting day of exercise, which in those days often consisted of trying on tons of overly expensive designer clothes and then doing cocktail curls at Fontaines.

Nik didn’t have a television, instead he had a beamer, a huge empty wall and a great sound system that made watching even the most mediocre of commercials a cinematic experience so we decided to raid his video collection for something to watch. Someone suggested the “L-Word” which I immediately shot down. I was in no mood for flat shoes and flannel shirts. Suddenly someone shouted “How about Sex?!” And as usual, Sex won.

“Sex and the City” has just been released in India and Manuel, Ankit and I made plans months ago to make it a group experience. And in my opinion, nothing goes better with group Sex than red leather. OK, a Cosmo would have been nice, but this is India and alcohol and cinemas don’t mix. I was just happy they didn’t edit all the risqué parts out, leaving us with a movie only slightly longer than the trailer, although there were a few moments of really abrupt editing. Yes, there we were, six of us in the PVR Gold cinema, once again stretched out in our over-stuffed red leather recliners. Our seats were in the front and second row and all I could think was “Oh my God, It’s HUGE!” Ankit, Manuel and I were joined by Poul, who stand about 2 meters tall and was happy to at last be in a cinema were his knees aren’t shoved up under his chin, Doug and his wife Sarah who was the lone girl among us. It was very Samantha of her. Sarah came like a professional. Not only did she immediately curl up in her recliner, but she became the envy of us all when she covered herself in a pashmina and tucked in for the film. Next time I am taking a teddy bear.

The movie started out great, but just as things started getting a bit intense, we were faced with film slippage and suddenly the faces were cut off on the bottom of the screen while at the top of the screen, mics kept appearing. The first time the mic appeared, I thought it was an editing issue. Then when it kept happening, I thought maybe it was some sort of weird dream sequence, and like Pamela Ewing before her, she would wake up and we would learn that none of this had actually happened and everything had been a dream. Finally Ankit went and got it sorted.

All-in-all, I really liked it. Manuel wasn’t so keen, Ankit was less enthusiastic than I would have imagined. I think he was jealous about the Lacroix. It wouldn’t surprise me if he spent a good portion of the film thinking “that would look so much better on me with my coloring.” I won’t give away anything about the movie as I hate it when people do that. People that spoil things like that for others should be stepped on by an elephant...

But one thing that surprised me was how people had aged. They all aged well, it was just the fact that they aged. And if they aged, that means I have as well and that is just not possible. Manuel and I just re-watched season 6 a few weeks back and suddenly, in the movie, everyone is older. And we are all at that age where every month starts leaving its mark so as to be remembered. Thank God for Botox-induced amnesia, which I have decided is going to be one of my little birthday presents to myself, and I will get it done on August 1, so I can be smooth as a thirty-something for my birthday. I am certain that a less wrinkled face will go so much better with the Hermes watch with the wrap-around band that I am planning to slap on my wrist come mid August.

Ode to Horton

In the heat of the day and nowhere near a pool,
In the middle of Delhi and quite far from Nool,
We took an old rickshaw to a mall that’s quite groovy,
With one goal in mind, the new “Horton” movie.

We sat in the rickshaw, just Manuel and me,
And looking around, oh the sights we did see!
Two painted elephants out on the street,
Stomping and stomping atop their flat feet,

They hobbled and wobbled and danced a small jig,
Led by the one in the front with a twig.
The driver said “hmmmpff” as he as quite grumpy,
And I have to concur that the road was quite bumpy.

We bounced up and bounced down,
We bounced here and bounced there,
And I am sure more than once,
We flew through right through the air,

But we finally arrived and we sat in our seats,
With Pepsi and popcorn and sugary treats,
Ankit had joined us looking quite floral,
In a colorful kurta of purple and coral.

And then there on the screen was our hero from Nool
In the heat of the day, in the cool of the pool,
He was splashing… enjoying the jungle’s great joys…
When Horton the elephant heard a small noise.

I was glued to my seat, I stayed put in my chair,
As that small speck of dust blew about through the air,
Whatever will happen? Will the speck come to harm?
Those are the questions I asked in alarm.

What would happen to Who-ville and every last Who?
I wondered and wondered what Horton would do,
But he saved all the folks, he’s a very fine friend,
He saved all the folks on the dust speck no end.

He saved all the houses, the ceilings and floors,
He saved all the churches and groceries stores.
Horton never gave up, he believed in them all,
For a person’s a person, no matter how small.

He meant what he said and he said what he meant,
An elephant's faithful one hundred percent.

An Evening With Royalty

Thursday evening there was a little do at The Claridges. It was a party in for Leiber, which is all about the crystal encrusted clutches coveted and carried by women in the know everywhere. From Sarah Jessica to Eva Longoria to Heidi Klum, crystal clutches seem to be the new pastel Louis Vuitton. I received an invitation today – hand delivered to my office, I might add - and decided to break out the white wing-tipped Gucci sneakers, which in Delhi are as practical as, let’s say, white wing-tipped Gucci sneakers in Delhi. I almost never wear them and in between their limited excursions around the various five-star hotels and restaurants in Delhi, they stay in their little individual cloth shoe bags tucked snugly in the brown box with the word Gucci written in gold letters across the top. And there they sit, waiting for some glamorous invitation that warrants pulling them out of their individual pouches and dusting them off for a night on the town. So given the fact that this party was being thrown by their Highnesses Maharaja Sawai Bhaani Singh MVC, Maharani Padmini Devi and Princess Diya Kumari, all of Jaipur, I decided I should pull out the sparkly white sneaks and parade them around Delhi for a few hours. I was bored and an evening with royalty seemed to be just what the doctor ordered.

I had phoned Ankit hours before and he assured me he would be there as well, and so off I went, full speed ahead to the garden at The Claridges. I walked into the party, a vision in Paul Smith and Gucci and took a look around. And what a sight it was. I almost fell into a coma, but instead ordered a glass of champagne. I decided to entertain myself by taking a tour of the new collection and the few vintage pieces they had on display. My favorite piece was the reason for the party. A sparkly Ganesh that made me wish I could carry off a cocktail dress and glittery clutch, but I am afraid there just would not be a pair of Christian Louboutin’s in my size. I walked around the party in awe at how entertained people can appear in even the most boring and numbing of occasions. Ankit had a change of plans and didn’t think it at all necessary to let me know, so I hung around waiting for his camera crew to arrive.

Contrary to popular belief, I get very shy in situations like this. I simply have no idea how to break the ice. If is a situation of a conference where someone has expressed an opinion or talked in an educated way about a topic, that opens up a door to engage a complete stranger. But being a guy at a party for handbags, I didn’t really know what to say. Fortunately for me a glittery Ganesh smiled down on the party and just as I was about to trip over the shoelace of boredom and stumble into a glitterless coma, I met three fabulous women who came to my rescue. Fiona, Caroline and a tiny stylist for Elle. We chatted, we toasted and we compared notes on our boredom and all too soon it was time for us to part ways. But not before getting invited to Fiona’s Luxury Vagabond book launch party which promises to be a spectacular affair.

And after 2 hours of jewels, champagne and camera crews, I walked out of the party and was handed the parting gift. A copy of the current Indian Vogue, a gift worthy of royalty.