A few years ago, my poor friend Raju, who makes so claims about turning into a gentleman was denied entry into Rain (of the famous Kareena-Shahid smooch and the Bipasha Basu molestation shoo-sha). I am not even sure if Rain still exists, since I have stopped travelling that far north to socialize. But I still remember that it made Raju feel very despondent and full of disdain for the people who looked him up and down and said, “sorry sir, floaters not allowed.” So off we went to plebian land and bitched about the good life.
My point is, Raju couldn’t hurt a fly, let alone taking on someone at the posh club. What harm could a bald guy who weighs all of 60 kilos, cause in his floaters? I can understand if they were Doc Martens or Caterpillars, as they can pack a mean punch. Unfortunately, Mr. Cerebrally Challenged at the door wasn’t convinced.
Now, I have seen posh men in sharp suits or Versace t-shirts make an utter ass of themselves in high places. I have also seen threesomes emerge out of unisex loos in posh joints. None of these, I am sure, have ever been denied entry, floater or no floater. I believe a tabloid reporter at was denied entry at Bed lounge (yes!)in Bandra because she was in a saree, and then they made a huge song and dance about it…
Closer home, the beau is another person who is always getting into trouble, either for under-dressing (shorts instead of full-lengths ) or overdressing (wearing a hat). He is still working on addressing the Lowest Common Sensibility in dress code, but is taken by surprise every time.
At Poison, which was over flowing with pretty young things one night wearing pretty much nothing, they had an issue with the beau’s shorts which well, just fell short of being trousers. He tried easing them down to prove a point, but it didn’t go well.
At Kuki’s in Delhi (of the Kareena-Saif smooch fame), where, after an hour and a half of serious dancing, the man in charge asked him to take his hat off, as it was ‘against the rules.’ There was some serious word-exchange, but I still didn’t get the logic of it…
At the super-colonial and terribly geriartric Delhi gym, where he is a member by ancestry, his T-shirts and sneakers were frowned upon. So we had to go hunting for a shirt and pull out his patent leather shoes. Why? So we could go to the bar and get wasted, yet look extremely elegant…
Recently we were at All Bheja Fry (sorry, All Stir Fry), grabbing a quick wok before we made our way upstairs to Pollys for a birthday surprise. Now, we were dressed to the nines, so no problem on that front. But as he was sampling the first mouthful, we were summoned by the party brigade, and so, asked for a takeaway. The manager mumbled, “Sorry…it is against our policy… no parcel for buffet. You can take soup…that is a-la-carte…”
Okay, I know we are a third world country and all of us, at any given opportunity would parcel food from buffets for our extended family and friends. What I didn’t know was that restaurant policies were like Indian Penal Code, which by the way, seems very flexible to me, as it is forever changing.
And oh yes, all above places are welcome to ban me, as I have had enough of them anyway. And frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn, as Clark Gable would say.
Showing posts with label dress code. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dress code. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
You are being Fcuked!
A few things I learnt at FCUK's network building bash that happened last week:
1) Sharp dressing means different things to different people. Even though it means 'fashionable and new' according to the dictionary.
2) The problem with being a trend follower is wardrobe space. Now even though I am a give-away-anything-you-haven't-worn-in-a-year kind of person, I still find my wardrobe spilling out for the most part. And I am not even a fashion victim. May be I just have a small wardrobe. Oh well.
3) Being sharply dressed means that everyone ends up looking the same. And why would women take so much trouble, just to end up looking like any other woman, beats me. This is probably the reason why I have resisted straightening my hair, my nose, my teeth, even my hands (my yoga instructor insists that I have crooked hands). The thing is, I love my imperfections. It makes me me. So even when I try to blend in, my hair and skin colour doesn't, and so, I have pretty much given up.
4) Appearing well put-together is too much work. In any case, most of the places-to-be-seen-at are so dark, you can barely locate your feet. So why bother?
5) Keeping up with trends means shopping for every night out, and doesn't make sense. Just when you are getting comfy with boot cuts, along comes skinny jeans..and just when you give away all your page-girl tops, they are back again. And just when you thought sequins were out, they are in again. So I survived leggings, bling mania, broad belts, skinny jeans, tunics, bubbles and..Oh, forget it!
6) When you are at a to-be-seen place, try getting an aerial view. It's really cool. A few friends and I spent a good part of the evening watching Nina Manuel getting made up for her TV show. Her dress ended even before it began—that must be sharp. And Sapna Bhavnani's bag was bigger than her outfit. Kelly Dorji wore a cool white shirt and an uncool scowl.
7) Electronic music is actually that. Electronic. Which means the sound doesn't come from anything. Just technology. Wow! Why didn't I think of that? And the new cool is not trance or techno—it's Intelligent Dance Music. Deep!
8) Being an artist is cool. From my voyeuristic upper deck, I watched Apnavi Thacker messing around with a canvas. She stuck a picture, she painted varnish over it, she sprayed the letters F C U K (the K was definitely in a language waiting to be invented) and SEX TOY and P O L I C E around it, then she messed it some more with some red spray paint. This time she wore something that looked like deep-sea-diving equipment. Two hours later, she was still at it, and it still looked the same. And the crowd was still watching her. That's cool.
1) Sharp dressing means different things to different people. Even though it means 'fashionable and new' according to the dictionary.
2) The problem with being a trend follower is wardrobe space. Now even though I am a give-away-anything-you-haven't-worn-in-a-year kind of person, I still find my wardrobe spilling out for the most part. And I am not even a fashion victim. May be I just have a small wardrobe. Oh well.
3) Being sharply dressed means that everyone ends up looking the same. And why would women take so much trouble, just to end up looking like any other woman, beats me. This is probably the reason why I have resisted straightening my hair, my nose, my teeth, even my hands (my yoga instructor insists that I have crooked hands). The thing is, I love my imperfections. It makes me me. So even when I try to blend in, my hair and skin colour doesn't, and so, I have pretty much given up.
4) Appearing well put-together is too much work. In any case, most of the places-to-be-seen-at are so dark, you can barely locate your feet. So why bother?
5) Keeping up with trends means shopping for every night out, and doesn't make sense. Just when you are getting comfy with boot cuts, along comes skinny jeans..and just when you give away all your page-girl tops, they are back again. And just when you thought sequins were out, they are in again. So I survived leggings, bling mania, broad belts, skinny jeans, tunics, bubbles and..Oh, forget it!
6) When you are at a to-be-seen place, try getting an aerial view. It's really cool. A few friends and I spent a good part of the evening watching Nina Manuel getting made up for her TV show. Her dress ended even before it began—that must be sharp. And Sapna Bhavnani's bag was bigger than her outfit. Kelly Dorji wore a cool white shirt and an uncool scowl.
7) Electronic music is actually that. Electronic. Which means the sound doesn't come from anything. Just technology. Wow! Why didn't I think of that? And the new cool is not trance or techno—it's Intelligent Dance Music. Deep!
8) Being an artist is cool. From my voyeuristic upper deck, I watched Apnavi Thacker messing around with a canvas. She stuck a picture, she painted varnish over it, she sprayed the letters F C U K (the K was definitely in a language waiting to be invented) and SEX TOY and P O L I C E around it, then she messed it some more with some red spray paint. This time she wore something that looked like deep-sea-diving equipment. Two hours later, she was still at it, and it still looked the same. And the crowd was still watching her. That's cool.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
The hot and cold of it
I spend a great part of my day in an office where my most preoccupying thought is how to stay warm. Now, don’t get ideas. There’s no such action here. All I am talking about is plotting on how not to be subjected to sub-human temperatures and not have to thaw my fingers every time I try to type.
Okay, I know some people consider it fashionable to dress for winter and wear layers and all of that, but I am not one of those — I am the type who hates wearing a salwar kameez because it has too much fabric and too many layers. So when I am forced to wear more fabric than necessary to keep myself warm, it irks me.
And to think that just over a year ago, I would have done anything to have an office AC that actually cools. Yes, I was then in a space called Man’s World, where one felt one had to go through a steady state of disrobing so as to not roast. Had the AC been fixed, and had there been a unisex loo in place, I would have probably never made it to this paper.
I have come to realise that when it comes to the work place, there are only two options. Either you shrivel or you stew. There is no such thing as an office with optimum temperature. Let’s not even go to food, recreation and other frills.
A few years prior, I was in a robot land called Tata Interactive, which was a space inhabited by Neanderthals with varying winter wardrobes..from the very gauche to the very galactic. And when it came to a contest for cooling needs, somehow, the “server” always won, even though most of our window displays always showed that the “server was down” or some such.
Somehow, I have always been lucky with houses, which is why going back home is always a more pleasant experience than going to work. Of course, staying in the car is the best of all.
If only HR personnel knew that the one way to make sure people stay in their jobs for ever and ever is by offering them the right food and the right temperature. Like animals, human beings also like to nest when the conditions are optimum. It doesn’t take too many workshops to figure that out. Till today, the office where I have had the longest innings has been the one with optimum cooling and happy canteen boys. That’s all it takes, future employers please pay attention.
My friend Anita, who lives in New York has an interesting theory — work is not a natural state to be — like eating or sleeping, or being in love, or getting married. We work because we have to, but we eat and sleep because we love to. Sometimes we work because it is the only way we can do the rest of the stuff. So in that sense, work contradicts our natural state of being. And working in the cold aggravates it even further. Ever wonder why those posh offices with snazzy ACs and vending machines that spew it all have such a high turnover of people? Well, it’s just too cold for comfort.
Okay, I know some people consider it fashionable to dress for winter and wear layers and all of that, but I am not one of those — I am the type who hates wearing a salwar kameez because it has too much fabric and too many layers. So when I am forced to wear more fabric than necessary to keep myself warm, it irks me.
And to think that just over a year ago, I would have done anything to have an office AC that actually cools. Yes, I was then in a space called Man’s World, where one felt one had to go through a steady state of disrobing so as to not roast. Had the AC been fixed, and had there been a unisex loo in place, I would have probably never made it to this paper.
I have come to realise that when it comes to the work place, there are only two options. Either you shrivel or you stew. There is no such thing as an office with optimum temperature. Let’s not even go to food, recreation and other frills.
A few years prior, I was in a robot land called Tata Interactive, which was a space inhabited by Neanderthals with varying winter wardrobes..from the very gauche to the very galactic. And when it came to a contest for cooling needs, somehow, the “server” always won, even though most of our window displays always showed that the “server was down” or some such.
Somehow, I have always been lucky with houses, which is why going back home is always a more pleasant experience than going to work. Of course, staying in the car is the best of all.
If only HR personnel knew that the one way to make sure people stay in their jobs for ever and ever is by offering them the right food and the right temperature. Like animals, human beings also like to nest when the conditions are optimum. It doesn’t take too many workshops to figure that out. Till today, the office where I have had the longest innings has been the one with optimum cooling and happy canteen boys. That’s all it takes, future employers please pay attention.
My friend Anita, who lives in New York has an interesting theory — work is not a natural state to be — like eating or sleeping, or being in love, or getting married. We work because we have to, but we eat and sleep because we love to. Sometimes we work because it is the only way we can do the rest of the stuff. So in that sense, work contradicts our natural state of being. And working in the cold aggravates it even further. Ever wonder why those posh offices with snazzy ACs and vending machines that spew it all have such a high turnover of people? Well, it’s just too cold for comfort.
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