My Revised Fashion Week

A couple of years ago, I wrote a blog post about a trip I did to London with Nik during Fashion Week . A couple of months ago I was asked by someone at a men’s magazine, which is kind of an Indian version of GQ, to submit samples of my writing for their consideration and as that is one of my favorite stories and also favorite memories with Nik, that is one of the stories I included. I got a response back saying they liked the story, but requested me to rework it as they felt it had a bit of a gay angle to it.

Of course it had a bit of a gay angle, it was a story about Fashion Week. And everyone knows that any men’s magazine that has a focus on anything other than auto parts, and certainly any magazine that focuses on fashion, grooming and lifestyle is going to have a gay or gay friendly reader base. Most of the men that buy Men’s Health aren’t looking for six ways to a washboard stomach, unless that stomach is attached to someone else. But, as I am trying to get my name out there and get published as much as possible, I had to do as requested.

But the dilemma was figuring out what to change without making the story a lie. I couldn’t turn Nik into a woman and change a night out in London with a great friend to a night out with my girlfriend. I have a friend who is always looking over my shoulder making sure I don’t fudge any details. Besides, I have seen Nik in a wig in a Facebook album and it is not a pretty sight. I removed all obvious references and any vocabulary that automatically gets associated with being gay, even if those words are and have been in the dictionary long before they were attached to stereotypes.

So the article has been rewritten and sent off and hopefully will find itself printed on the pages of a magazine. 

My Coerced Posting

I just received an SMS asking me to post something more cheerful than that last post… Hmmmm… The pressure of having to write under pressure is a lot of pressure. I hope I don’t buckle under the weight of exceptional expectations… I don’t really have anything to say, but I was raised to obey orders and so I will be making this up as I go along. So if this post sucks, then blame the guy who sent me the SMS, not me. This is not my fault. I am a victim, a pawn, a prisoner in an alphabetical Guantanemo of my own making.


First off, let me start with an update – Manuel and I are doing much better and things seem to be on a very good track and going in a good direction, and for now, that’s all I will say about my relationship.

Blogging is a strange thing and at times I find myself at odds with my life, what is on my mind and what I write about in my blog. When I first started, I wanted to write funny stories, I wanted to make people laugh. I wrote things that sometimes made me laugh as I was reading them. I would often write for a specific person and imagine their laughs or comments or looks of shock. Christina, Marco, Ulco, Joe, Nik, Laura, and many, many others were often the inspiration behind a story just because I know their sense of humor, I know what will make them laugh and if I knew someone was going through a hard time, I would write to cheer them up in my own little way. It's also my way of spending time with people that are way too many time zones away from me.

And all the while, life happens and many times it happens in a way other than I want it to be happening. Then I have to decide if I want to fake it and be funny or witty, write the truth about my feelings and thoughts, or avoid it all together by not writing. I broke one of my rules recently about not being too personal, especially if someone else was involved in any negative way. I was scared to do it and scared of what people might think, but getting it all out was hugely therapeutic and it let me examine my thoughts in a different way. And then the question arises of how personal I can get without getting too personal and giving away my life. And then there is the question of what type of writing I want to do… Do I just write according to what my mood is and what’s going on (maybe it will be funny, maybe it will be depressing, maybe it will just be) or do I force myself to keep it on the lighter side. I also have no idea what everyone likes to read - and when I say everyone, I mean the three people that visit my blog – Hiya mom!

So, why don’t you tell me. What would/do you prefer?

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.

Marco and Nik

What a week this has been. One of those times when life throws a wrench in what seems like perfectly moving gears and suddenly it seems like its only grey clouds and cold rain. Yesterday I woke up feeling worse than Miss Celie in the Color Purple. And just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, they did. Not only did I put on my vintage Thierry Mugler sweater and discover a small hole right in the middle of the chest, but Naomi got arrested for slapping around a member of her staff. I find that completely unforgivable. Not the slapping, but the arrest. I think celebrity gives someone the right to slap around whoever they want. Naomi and Zsa Zsa most definately got the right idea. Someone gets on your nerves, let 'em have it upside the head.

Anyway, after wallowing for a while in my misery, I realized I really had no other choice, I took a half day off work, put on as much Prada as one body can possibly handle and met up with Nik and Marco for cocktails, oysters and a fun night out on the town. When it comes to cheering someone up, Nik and Marco are the best. They know just when to let a person ramble on and when to order another round of Razzitos to shut one up and keep one nourished. Thanks guys! It really means a lot to me knowing you are there.

Today, Marco and I both have the day off and we are meeting up this afternoon for a bit of retail therapy. I'm not going to buy anything, but there's nothing like trying on thousands of dollars worth of gorgeous designer clothes to make someone feel a bit better and give one the inspiration to work a bit harder at the gym. The holiday season is coming up and I need to whip this body into something someone would like to find under their Christmas tree.

Joe

Everyone has their weekend ritual, and mine these days just happens to be Brussels. I am sure you all think that I am here for the raspberry margaritas, the chocolates from Fabrice Collignon or perhaps even to escape the golden cage of my life in Amsterdam, but the truth of the matter is, there is one other little reason I so often find myself in the capital of Europe. His name is Joe.

Yep, the very same one who had never seen Absolutely Fabulous and who was also with me last weekend in Paris where he showed off his hierogliphic skills. To make a long story short, he's an amazing guy, I am absolutely crazy about him and I just want to spend as much time with him as possible. I met Joe in early September through Nik and Marco and I feel very lucky as I never thought I would feel this way again. Many years ago, I got married to another great and wonderful guy, Ulco. I never imagined that we would ever get to that point where we would go our separate ways. Ulco is still one of the most incredible, kind, caring people I have ever met and he has and still does inspire me to be a better person. Without wanting to sound too melodramatic, he has been there for me in some of the highest and lowest moments of my life. Times when I honestly didn't think I would survive. Times when I didn't believe I actually wanted to survive.

I owe Ulco an enormmous debt, one that I can never repay and one that I will never forget. He is one of those people that when they come in you life, it is a better place. He is still a very important person in my life and I can't image my life without him. When Ulco and I decided it was better to end things instead of letting them get ugly or out of control, I never actually believed I would find myself in a situation where I am ready to take that chance again, but here I am.

Envy

This weekend is gay pride in Amsterdam. There will be all sorts of parties and Saturday one of the main canals will be filled with boats and scantily clad people all trying the get the attention of the crowds lining the canals or shock the unknowing tourists. I am not really a fan of the weekend, usually preferring to leave the country and leave the partying to others. This year, due to an oversight, I am staying in Amsterdam and will have to brave the crowds of the tourists that pile into the city for the weekend. If tonight was any indication of the way the weekend will go, it is going to be one long and uncomfortable weekend here in the Venice of the North. I am planning on keeping everything low key, low alcohol and definitely low drama. Fortunately for me, I have a couple of great books to dive into and am looking forward to spending some time alone and relaxing... I would prefer to be joining Paul to Tel Aviv, but will have to be content being jealous and waiting for my own turn. '

Today I wasn't feeling well... not sure if it was a touch of the stomach virus that seems to be going around the office or something I ate, but whatever it was, my stomach was not happy. So after my conference calls where finished, I did what anyone in my situation would do, I met up with friends for some champagne. Surprisingly enough, the stomach pains subsided almost immediately and then it was time to go to Envy for some dinner with my new friend (yes, friend with a little f) Nik. Aah, peppers with cheese, sweetbread and asparagus, scallops with thinly sliced beets and turnips, slow roasted veal... and all washed down with some cheap yet drinkable perseco. We had one of those talks over dinner where walls get lowered and our real selves start coming out. He's a great guy and I am happy we are becomming friends. After dinner, we headed to Arc, the local cocktail bar for a last drink before turning out noses toward our respective homes. Now that I am here, my stomach seems to be rebelling again...

Over the years I have had several people ask me to type out my journal for the trip I did through India and Nepal several years ago. I have yet to do it in spite of all the promises to others and myself. I have decided to publish it here, in little installments, hopefully with the first chapter coming out this weekend. I will elaborate on my journal writings with the memories I have but didn't have the time or patience to write about at that moment.

Well, as I am somewhat ill, I should probably tuck myself into bed straight away and get a good nights rest so I am all fresh for another day at the office.