Fashion Dissection – Oscar’s Best and Worst Dressed

This appeared in The SA Times on Saturday.

Last weekend was that time of the year again... that time for which the biggest fashion houses in the world burn the candle at both ends for months just so a beautiful body can flash their outfit to hundreds of lenses, that time for which the most popular personal trainers do everything short of making their celeb clients faint on the Pilates mat, that time that makes or breaks personal stylists and image consultants, that time when lipo/ botox/ lip-enhancement/ dermatology/ cosmetology clinics are in full bloom, that time where celebrities undergo maximum public scrutiny and despite what they'd like to believe sometimes go wrong and that time where anyone and everyone with even a semi-decent taste in fashion feels compelled to opine about those unapproachable dresses, just like me. Oh and it was that time of the year when the best talent in Hollywood gets felicitated for their work but that's a minor detail.

Analyzing extravagant dresses is no child's play and one need not attempt it alone for fear of momentary lapse of judgment. So I and a dear friend Manavi were at it from start to finish giving it all we had. Without further ado, here's our collective opinion of the Oscars 2010 fashion.

Of the best dressed list, coming in at #6 for us is the very beautiful Vera Farmiga, the actress of ‘Up In The Air’. I loved the movie, loved the book more than the movie, loved George Clooney more than the book and I couldn’t help loving her. So call me biased but if there’s anyone who can rock an outfit that looks like a giant present or a fan or an origami project with a gazillion ruffles, it is her. The other cutie from ‘Up In The Air’, new kid on the block, Anna Kendrick, wore a ruched champagne colored gown. It was elegant and just right for her. That’s our #5 pick. #4 was Sandra Bullock who wore a sparkling silver fluid gown by Marchesa. Her silky hair paired with red lips was just the accessories she needed. Coming in at #3 is Amanda Seyfried who wore a fabulous Armani strapless gown. Rarely does one get to see such an incredible dress on someone so young. #2 was Rachel McAdams in a pink, blue and green water color dress that crisscrosses at the waist from Elie Saab haute couture. Very feminine and romantic number that she pulled off effortlessly. But Jennifer Lopez stole the show with her Armani Prive iridescent pale pink silk organza evening gown with a side train accented by Swarovski crystals. Where do I start about that side train? It was just ooh la la. If our Bebo doesn’t end up in something similar in the next 6 months, I’d be surprised.

I must start the Worst Dressed List with the absolute worst dressed. Zoe Saldano of ‘Avatar’ wore a silvery sequin bodice and a three tiered skirt with lilac, purple and black. It was wrong on so many levels. Love the blue girl but she needs a new stylist pronto. The 2nd worst dressed for me was Charlize Theron. It was a good color on her but the train on that dress made it look like a different outfit altogether. The actual worst part was that the train that matched pink rosettes on each breast. Unfortunately, the eyes went straight to those rosettes. And to think that she has a face to die for. Mo'Nique came in at #3. She wore a ruched electric-blue sheath, something, pardon me Mo'Nique, is something I think I've seen week after week at Macys and Nordstrom and every other dress shop in the mall. Utterly butterly ordinary. But the biggest disappointment of the night came from Sex and the City gal Sarah Jessica Parker. One to experiment a lot with her looks, this time I think she got it wrong. She wore a metallic-embellished Chanel couture gown but the fit was wrong, the hair looked like a giant bagel and she looked bland. Don’t blame her coz it was quite a challenging dress. Our #5 pick was Actress Diane Kruger with a black ruffly collar on a halter top dress with a swath of ruffles from waist to shin. Ugh. I’m going to hell for saying this because it stains my loyalty but I have to say it. Coming in at #6 is writer/actress Tina Fey who wore a Michael Kors black sequin-covered, one-shoulder gown with a sexy slit. It was a good gown alright, but didn’t do her justice.

Oh and in case you care, guys kept it simple, varying between single and double breasted tuxedos and navy/grey/black colors on the tux.

On that note, it’s a wrap from me. See you next week.

Polish your wit with Twitter

This appeared in The SA Times today.

I stumbled upon a few amusing facts this week. First, I came across an article in Wall Street Journal about fashion label Gucci’s legacy and learnt Mr. Gucci’s first name; Guccio. The man was named Guccio Gucci! Interesting is all I could mumble. Then I caught an episode of ex-politician Rahul Mahajan’s bride hunt show. What an amazing set of girls to choose from; none of whose IQ seems to be more than 79 (borderline deficiency). One actually thought Obama’s full name was Obama Bin Laden. To think that someone needs to go on national TV to find that. Brilliant. Then I saw Karan Johar winning a ‘Social Icon of the Year’ award at the NDTV Indian of the Year award show simply for using Twitter extensively. It gives the rest of us hope when we’re hooked onto seemingly useless addictions.

Which brings me to my most interesting experience of the week. Out of a desperate measure to do something entertaining on one dull evening, I logged onto Twitter after a good 6 months and got blown away this time around.

Being an ardent Facebook user, I believed I was doing a decent job of being virtually in touch with all my friends and family. It even bordered on obsessive-compulsive disorder on some days. Left me with little time and inclination to get into yet another relationship with yet another social networking site. I’m nothing if not loyal or so I thought until Twitter crushed that notion. I watched myself get entangled into a Twitterverse of tweets from a variety of names and faces, some I identified as popular from the world of politics/ literature/ movies/ fashion/ media and some others I didn’t recognize because they were ordinary virtual people, or Tweeple, just like me, but were interesting nevertheless. It’s been three days since then and I haven’t rested.

You probably know the real difference between the two already. Facebook is Facebook where as Twitter is largely used by people to speak their minds in 140 words mostly about current on goings. The best part, you can follow anyone and vice-versa without any egos, social standing or stardom coming in the way. I’ve even got the 44th President of United States following me. That’s right, Barack Obama follows me on Twitter even when I don’t follow him. And it’s a verified account of his so don’t you laugh it out. But it’s no biggie because he follows some 700k people. See what I mean? It’s a dangerous place though because it’s so easy to lose your way if you have a tendency of getting swayed.

You’ve most likely heard the rest but here’s what’s got me hooked. Wit. I just see a lot more wit on Twitter than all the other sites I am on, combined. Attribute it to the restriction on the tweet length or the exemplar set by some on the site but it’s hard to deny. One of my favs on it is Rahul Khanna. Here’s one from him. “Today I discovered there really is no dignified way to react when painters suddenly appear on scaffolding outside your bathroom window.”

It’s also been entertaining to discover how a sub-section of the Indian media, Indian politicians and Indian celebrities have started a mutual admiration society on Twitter. Barkha Dutt praises Karan Johar, Karan Johar praises Abhishek Bachchan, Abhishek Bachchan praises Shah Rukh Khan, Shah Rukh praises Shashi Tharoor, Shashi Tharoor praises Barkha Dutt and to be different, Shobhaa De trashes them all. I wonder if PR agents will be extinct in the near future since everyone talks to everyone on such platforms completely eliminating the need for a middle man.

For more wit, hit me up on Twitter (randomwalkers) and follow who I follow or give me a few suggestions. See ya?

A Splash Of Color

This appeared in The South Asian Times today.

Whether you have any new tricks up your sleeve this Holi festival or not, many do. The women prisoners of Tihar jail have made edible handmade colors that you can play Holi with. Edible - now that's revolutionary. You won't have to devour that someone who carelessly thrusts a bout of color in your mouth. Parachute hair oil is running ads with a special hair oil that won't damage your hair despite gulal. Our gals would be so relieved. The number one cause of depression amongst the fair sex post Holi day always seems to be damaged hair. And the Mayor of Mumbai has promised the residents extra water supply on the d-day. How we all need those endless showers and incessant scrubbing to wash it all off. Very thoughtful gift.

The colors of Holi, by its very definition, seems like an oxymoron to me. White, the purest and most colorless of all colors, being the unspoken dress code, is predominant on this day. I always wondered why people would want to ruin their whites. But what other color can take a multitude of color so well? What other color can make the other colors sparkle so much?

There is a variety of elements to Holi. Something for everyone. No wonder it's one of the most popular festivals. The elderly enjoy going in circles around the sacred fire and narrating its significance and stories to the young lot, the young ones love getting drenched in colored water and returning the favor to their counterparts, the youngest ones enjoy silly games like water balloons fights and related pranks and the festival even tends to bring out the worst from the violent and evil souls who get away with casually dragging unsuspecting strangers into it. But it’s all good. After all, what is Holi without a few street fights?

I have so many memories of Holi… some I think of fondly and some others, not so much. I still remember slapping a little gutsy boy who'd taken the liberty of drowning me in a tank filled with some yucky foul smelling color that stained my skin for days. How cool would it be if he still remembered? And we all know a neighbor’s kid who would invariably return bruised from all those water balloons that he would easily become a target of by random people. Of course seeing the uncles lose their sanity along with sips of bhang was entertaining to say the least and I’m being mighty polite. But my most favorite one was in the land of colors, Rajasthan. The glorious Krishna temple of Nathdwara was lit up beautifully, the bright neons that delightfully draped all the Rajasthani women and adorned the heads of local men added a lovely touch and heaps of colors brought out on silver trays were soon in the air making every face in the crowd indistinguishable. Folk music in the background was chocolate slivers on the cake.

Holi is a festival that unites like no other. Once the color is on, all bets are off unless you can tell one person’s smile from another. Whether you’re celebrating Holi at a temple or at a beach on foreign soil or on a crowded street in India, I hope it brings you immense bliss and joy. I’ve been letting the Holi Garba flyers just lay on the floor – but that’s an option. Perhaps I’ll just dab an extra dose of the blue shimmery eye shadow that I’m so in love with and give the colors a pass this year.

Road To Rio

This appeared in The South Asian Times yesterday.

Sao Paulo looks like any other metro in India at a first glance. It’s a concrete jungle. Houses in every color you can imagine, construction sites as messed up as any others you might have seen in India, clothes hung to dry in the balconies of high rises, two wheelers, street hawkers and people; lots and lots of people. Its enormity easily makes it one of the largest metros in the world and sky scrapers make it Mumbai-like, difficult to spot where the downtown is. But once you enter downtown, you know it; graffiti covered walls unmistakably set up stage for those crime stories you might have heard about the country. Traffic is so dense that it isn’t uncommon for those with heavy pockets to move around in choppers. Known as the fashion capital of South America, Sao Paulo definitely has a lot of color; in fabrics, on people and in general. Also hard to miss is the love for soccer in the natives; from spotting it on the country’s flag to spotting it in the eyes of bouncy teenagers, it is ubiquitous. If you’re traveling from any cold country, weather is to die for in February; warm and humid, just the way I like it. The biggest challenge though is the language. Not a word of English; I mean it. Luckily, I figured out nine magic Portuguese words that helped me get veggie food, travel through metros, ask for things in my size while shopping and bargain hard. The locals are a warm lot so just a few words in their lingo do the trick.

Before I could get enough of Sao Paulo, I was on the road to Rio. Rio De Janerio; just the name has such an intoxicating ring to it. I’d forgotten notes from my history class and presumed Rio to be the capital of the country. Wrong. Brasilia, the capital, is known for its futuristic buildings and is a relatively new city. Back to the Rio story. They say sometimes the planetary configuration is such that no matter what you do, you end up doing things wrong. I did, several times over. It all started with a harmless decision to drive a distance of 230 miles in a country where I didn’t speak the language. Everything that followed was a thrill. Enormous tolls (forty Reais each way), indecipherable highway and street names, no exits for miles and stick shift rental car with no GPS added up to quite a bit of adventure. Driving inside Rio took that adventure several notches up. The city is carved out of mountains and has a breathtaking landscape. The gorgeous view of Christ The Redeemer (Cristo Redentor) statue made on the peak of a tall mountain hits you just as you enter. It’s easy to spot areas of poor-quality housing and slums that are usually located on the city's many mountain slopes, juxtaposed with middle-class neighborhoods. For driving to my hotel, I had to count my blessings. Endless tunnels with several parallel highways made me feel like I was trapped in a cob web. I feel highly indebted to Google. If not for their iPhone navigation, my imagination fails me on where I would have landed up. Even if one hasn’t seen Blame It On Rio or Cocktail, one has definitely heard about Copacabana. It’s one of the most famous beaches of the world located in Rio and boy did I feel like I was on cloud nine! Swimming in the bluest waters with the hottest bodies in the warmest weather is a sin one must commit.

The most sinfully inviting thing about my trip was the Carnival. For most of the week, samba is the call that brings people together, with daily parades setting off from various locations. One can either see it in grand samba dome or participate in one of the authentic street celebrations. A common misconception is that Carnival is a Rio thing. But one can practically go to any city and be a part of it. Sao Paulo carnival is just about as grand as Rio’s, with hundreds of majestic floats with mind boggling set up, samba dancers of all ages and at all stages in life with creative costumes, topless beauty queens with glamorous feather wings and sparkling heels preceding every float, beats that make even the laziest feet dance and lyrics that you can sing along with despite the language. It’s all about celebrating the spirit of the people. A spirit that lingers on in the air even after the carnival is long over. A spirit that is so contagious that one can’t help but get painted in. A spirit I’m bringing back with me. Chow chow.

On board AA

Tuesday got off on a rough start. I woke up at 5 when I really could have managed it all even if I had hit snooze on the alarm set at 7 a few times. Then a very inefficient American Airlines rep made me shell out a whopping $450 out of nowhere for the little one (who’s under 2 for the record) for a ticket category that she totally made up on the spot – lapticket, which for the gullible means free ticket, sure but you still gotta please Uncle Sam. And they say we’re not frighteningly close to being a socialist country. Yeah right.

On the short 3 hour flight to Dallas, I was doing the usual – familiarizing myself with environment. A guy on expense (who immediately bought in-flight internet and wine and spent a majority of time playing online poker amidst sending some e-mails from Outlook), an obese woman (admiring her double cheese sandwich), a hippie traveler (with large hair and several piercings who didn’t mind the air on her with full force when everyone else (I) was freezing), an Indian nerdy gentleman (with thick glasses who kept himself busy with thick reports) and the guy who slept with his mouth so wide open, I could have slid a giant koi into it.

As I flipped a page of the novel I was reading, I read something interesting. One of the characters, a strategy consultant was recommending his client, an airline, that they use intelligence to assign seating to their customers on the flight. It’s no secret that at the click of a button, we all become a bunch of demographics – female, under 30, single, no kids, 125k income, property range of 250-500k, domestic traveler, orders home gym shopping catalogue, you get the point. The airline had built their business on price alone and the consultant was convincing the airline that it’d do wonders for them to market the idea of ‘human togetherness’. Which basically translated into seating like-minded people together without their knowledge to create a better travel experience. I couldn’t help think if it was to get implemented. Yes I might learn some new tricks of handling toddler tantrums if I was automatically seated next to another mommy and yes our kids could collectively cry in unison and no one would give us a dirty look but what would happen to all my fun observations? I need variety to survive! Don’t you?

I opened the flimsy plastic window shade to look out. The brightness from the thick cloud layer almost blinded me. With a mouth so dry that I couldn’t even swallow, I kept wondering. It didn’t look dreamy. The infinite vastness of the space made me uneasy. I think I might like confinement more than I think I like it. It was a slightly shocking realization. May be I just need some sleep and my $450 back. There’s so much I could do with that money. Aah the possibilities.

The little fat thing bounced on me one more time. Time to sign off. Have a safe one.

Voice of youngistaan

I don't know what it is. I can't put a finger on it. But I feel the force. I feel the power. I feel the emotion. In the world of marketing, this would pass as a brilliant campaign. In the world of patriotism, this is a phenomenal campaign. Its ROI may not be tangible but its essence is there for everyone to experience.

In case you’re still wondering, I just saw the newly created and majorly overhauled "Phir Mile Sur..." song released on the Republic Day eve by Amitabh Bachchan. It's been over 2 decades since the original one, which was an instant hit and had quite an impact with its ‘Unity in Diversity’ message. This one is the latest 16 minute run to hit the tube where the glitterati take you across several locales of historical significance within the country with a very special message delivered in an eye-catching and foot-tapping manner. Several known faces from various walks of life, be it super stars, be it musicians, be it sportsmen; all singing the same tune calling upon the nation to unite using extraordinary yet simple poetry.

What I loved about this one was the breathtaking visuals shot with new age techniques, several new variations of the first two lines of the songs and the undertone which subtly points to a new, young India. Like Anushka Shankar's manicured fingers on sitar instead of Ravi Shankar's, like Shreya Ghoshal singing in an open bus while letting the wind blow her hair instead of Lata Mangeshkar in front of a dated microphone in a studio and Shahid Kapur pulling off a rock star act as opposed to a more understated Amitabh-Jitendra-Mithun trio displaying the bonds of brotherhood. The seamless contrast between tabla/santoor/sitar and guitar/fingerboard/piano is striking. And of course I loved the goose bumps it gave me. Some things never change though; like Amitabh's aura, Sallu bhaiya's MIA shirt and Aishwarya's acting (yes she did emote!). All the next door faces in the original version have been replaced by popular ones though making it a tad too Bollywoody but going by how crowded Bollywood has become lately, a lot of them are indeed next door faces. Which also means it feels like a mini movie, going by the length of it but who’s complaining?

Whether you’re chilling or slogging away with no time to breathe or on Prozac or just not in the mood for anything, go watch this. It’ll perk up your spirits. And you won’t feel left out when everyone on Facebook and Twitter is talking about it.

2009 the year that was…

This appeared in The South Asian Times on Saturday.

How does one write about a year that is coming to a close? Like everything else if you generalize and take a high level overview, then the graph would have similar patterns, with spikes and dips in different places. From a macro perspective this could be remembered as the year when the global financial system came to the brink of disaster. Or it could be remembered as the year that resulted in one of the most fantastic rescue efforts from all the major central banks. But the story is much different when you get into the details. That is where life takes place. It's not in the statistics that get reported on the GDP growth rate, the unemployment numbers and the dozen of percentages with a negative sign preceding it. But it is in the day to day struggle of families, people who lost their jobs, for whom the unemployment rate is nothing but 100%. Here’s the year through my eyes and from my memory.

The year started off as one of the scariest times to be employed in the US. Amidst the news channels blasting comparisons with the Great Depression and predictions of everything collapsing, there was little to smile about. One came to realize how truly interconnected the global economy is these days. A crisis that started off in the US financial system quickly brought the global economic machinery to a screeching halt. I guess this is what Thomas Friedman meant when he said that the ‘World Is Flat’. It was the year when I had to see some of my close friends and colleagues let go of the stability factor in their life, not for any real cause of their own. It brings to mind the question - do we really control our destinies? Somebody once told me that life is like a game of poker. The key is not the hand you get dealt with, but your decision afterwards - whether to fold or to play on.

2009 was the year I saw one of the most eloquent personalities take office of the President of the United States. It was a landmark event for my host country and I personally felt very proud of it. In my opinion there was no one more deserving to take that post at such a time of crisis. After all the man exudes hope and optimism. Where it did go overboard was the giving of a certain prize that I had vowed never to talk about again but just couldn’t help myself. I guess it's just not me who wants to cling onto something positive at times of crisis. The jury is still out on whether he will prove himself worthy of it, but if I were to wager I would say he would come out shining when all is said and done. (Mr. President, hope you are listening!!!)

On the tech front, iPhone makers probably understood what Amitabh Bachchan meant when he said the world is made up of two kinds of people; in this case, the iPhone users and the rest (losers?) It found unmatched popularity with new models alright but not without the birth of its potential contender, Google's Android. The real war will begin this year and I’m already hooked. Google employees probably spent hours trying to develop it, just as scientists spent hours trying to develop a flu vaccine and as for me, I spent hours trying to fight cellulite and the Conflicker virus, the later a definite victory for hackers inc. Oh and China has one more star in it’s kitty, like it needs any more, with the most dazzling celestial phenomenon of the year and of the 21st century, the total solar eclipse, being completely visible in parts of the country. China 1 – India 0 on that.

This year unfortunately was the time to say good byes to many of my beloved personalities like Michael Jackson, Patrick Swayze, Farrah Fawcett, Ted Kennedy and Britney Murphy amongst others. But we’ve survived and emerged stronger, haven’t we?

2009 was also the year I saw a very confident, young and ambitious India make its presence felt on the world stage - be it the in pro-growth policies of a young breed of politicians coming of age, the leadership shown by the country with its 7-8% GDP growth rate or the stance we took at the Copenhagen climate summit. I see this as a fore bearing of great things to come from that region.

And best of all, to close out the year Aamir Khan decided to give us one of the most brilliant movies I have seen in a long time. The message couldn't be more apt for a year like this "Jab life ho out of control..."

In the end for me 2009 was the year of great change and promise for a bright future. In the last few days I have had the time to reflect on the year gone by and when I look at the sheer pleasure my 19-month old daughter gets out of simple acts, the good things far outweigh the not so good ones.

In life, irrespective of the cards you get dealt with you always have to play on. That's the only way I have learnt to live and that's the way I plan to welcome 2010.

Have a great year folks!