Wardrobe Malfunction

Another burst of creativity , or may be I am more bored. You see, that is where the confusion begins. I am perennially confused. Those fleeting moments when my confusion leaves me, I am depressed. Confusion saves me from the many troubles of exploring uncharted terrains and reaching glorious heights. Who said the view at the top is worth it? I think a Sony Bravia does a better job.

And so the rant continues, albeit 2 years later.

Clothes maketh the man, I heard. The day I saw a Dhinchak Dhoti worn with black boots, Clothes shaketh my faith. After that, my sartorial experience has been quite downhill. Wasn’t Rajnikanth’s shoe-sense in Muthu supposed to be the worst thing that could happen? How can a living mortal surpass that one?

It shouldn’t take more than a pea-sized brain to put some basic colours together. Mr. Moron dressed to the T in Brown and Blue, designer sun glasses at 7 in the evening, you don’t save much by buying a small shirt that bursts at the seams. Your fat cells must be laughing at your idea of hiding that pot belly in those sutures.

Amidst the ubiquitous jeans, ill-fitting Tees and ample plastic jewelry, comes the diva sashaying in an Anarkali suit for every occasion. If all that is left after the suit is a wee bit of your toe peeping out, then maybe this suit is for someone else? Although the Sanjay Leela Bhansali look makes one feel royal on the first try,  it presents a duck -like demeanor to the onlooker quite often. And no, a stole is no replacement for a Dupatta (and please, Dupatta is not a shawl).

And so I look up, in awe, at the many women and men who have cracked the code of fine dressing. Elegance, refinement, subtlety wrapped in one. But it is not before long that I find myself saying,” What an icky snob! ”

I suppose it takes all kinds. And it is fun to slide between the extremes. 😉

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