From Hindol, The Mean, you will become Hindol, In The Bin.
Why, say I,?
You bitched out their show at the fashionweek.
But, but, say I, I only said they should sell at Lajpat, why is that bad? My mom shops at Lajpat.
No one, she seems to suggest, far less Ashimaji-Leenaji, cares about my poor mother.
Leenaji, who once told me before a show, beta, sab aap logon ke haath mein hai, is now telling me, in true Delhi style, haath dekha hai? Chaanta paare ga!
(The only other person who used to say such things to me is my old friend and fashion colleague Neha, but that's another story.)
Leenaji, all powerful in the fashion industry, is, in Mumbai parlance, lifting her hand from over my head. I am now without shelter, shunned from fashion-meets-Lajpat Eden.
So faced with a jobless, forced to be benign future, I do what anyone would do in my situation - I look for a luxury conference.
The moment I enter the Taj, I feel calm. Everywhere the whispered laughter and affection of the very rich. The well cut suits. Something about well cut suits, they always calm me down.
Commerce Minister Kamal Nath is on a roll. He is taking on the world and the French and saying - you have to get it. We will beat you at your own game. His fight, clearly carried forward, from WTO.
Yves Carcelle, the great head of Louis Vuitton, seems happy to see me again, as seems Mohan Murjani, the perfect gentleman who is bringing in Gucci.
Christophe from Jean Paul Gaultier promises to get me conical bras from his private collection and Charu Sachdev laughs and gives a reality check to the luxury business.
Christophe says - Jean Paul Gaultier is 55 and he is still being called the enfant terrible of fashion. What fun, think I, what will I be at 55?
Then Christian Blanckaert of Hermes, which I might not be able to afford in this lifetime, jazzes things like a rockstar and says he believes that luxury shouldn't be snooty. He says you asks good questions and bad questions.
To a sea of claps, he says while we cater to the rich, we must not forget the poor.
I am eating free chocolates just the way the boss would hate to see me eat chocolates. Anyway, she has been pointing out the paunch frequently nowadays.
But overall, I am happy. There are new malls coming up, where people like my friend Fatima Karan will be able to get her Prada shoes in India.
I? I might not have a job thanks to Ashima-Leena. I should job hunt here. first published:March 31, 2007, 14:58 ISTlast updated:March 31, 2007, 14:58 IST
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A day before India's big luxury conference in Delhi, the PR person of designers Ashima and Leena Singh calls me. She says you will be fired. Now. Leena Singh will call a minister, she says, who will call your boss and you will be fired.
From Hindol, The Mean, you will become Hindol, In The Bin.
Why, say I,?
You bitched out their show at the fashionweek.
But, but, say I, I only said they should sell at Lajpat, why is that bad? My mom shops at Lajpat.
No one, she seems to suggest, far less Ashimaji-Leenaji, cares about my poor mother.
Leenaji, who once told me before a show, beta, sab aap logon ke haath mein hai, is now telling me, in true Delhi style, haath dekha hai? Chaanta paare ga!
(The only other person who used to say such things to me is my old friend and fashion colleague Neha, but that's another story.)
Leenaji, all powerful in the fashion industry, is, in Mumbai parlance, lifting her hand from over my head. I am now without shelter, shunned from fashion-meets-Lajpat Eden.
So faced with a jobless, forced to be benign future, I do what anyone would do in my situation - I look for a luxury conference.
The moment I enter the Taj, I feel calm. Everywhere the whispered laughter and affection of the very rich. The well cut suits. Something about well cut suits, they always calm me down.
Commerce Minister Kamal Nath is on a roll. He is taking on the world and the French and saying - you have to get it. We will beat you at your own game. His fight, clearly carried forward, from WTO.
Yves Carcelle, the great head of Louis Vuitton, seems happy to see me again, as seems Mohan Murjani, the perfect gentleman who is bringing in Gucci.
Christophe from Jean Paul Gaultier promises to get me conical bras from his private collection and Charu Sachdev laughs and gives a reality check to the luxury business.
Christophe says - Jean Paul Gaultier is 55 and he is still being called the enfant terrible of fashion. What fun, think I, what will I be at 55?
Then Christian Blanckaert of Hermes, which I might not be able to afford in this lifetime, jazzes things like a rockstar and says he believes that luxury shouldn't be snooty. He says you asks good questions and bad questions.
To a sea of claps, he says while we cater to the rich, we must not forget the poor.
I am eating free chocolates just the way the boss would hate to see me eat chocolates. Anyway, she has been pointing out the paunch frequently nowadays.
But overall, I am happy. There are new malls coming up, where people like my friend Fatima Karan will be able to get her Prada shoes in India.
I? I might not have a job thanks to Ashima-Leena. I should job hunt here.
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