I remember watching Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham back in 2001 when it first came out. I remember going there with literally my entire extended family, I think maybe because the movie’s selling line was “it’s all about loving your family“. 19 years later, I’ve memorized the movie that it doesn’t even need to be playing for me to recite the dialogues. So, while Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jaayenge reserves the spot of my favourite movie (and still not on Netflix!), K3G comes somewhere in the top 10 favourite Bollywood classics.
In an effort to raise morale and give us something to watch, Netflix recently uploaded all the KJo classics – including Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham, and no surprise, I found myself watching it when I had a sudden realization (with a little help from my friends) – am I Anjali?
Anjali is clumsy. She breaks gamlas (vases) whenever she goes to the Raichands.
I’m not even going to go into the different Givenchy Beauty (or related) events that I have somehow – with no additional help necessary – injured myself in some way or another. I’m talking hitting my head (and getting a mild concussion) 15 minutes before the event begins, burning my foot from the smoke machine (don’t ask), falling flat in the middle of the presentation and more.
Anjali has NO filter.
It’s like the brain and the mouth do no talking sometimes. I’m often biting my tongue – or wishing I did.
I am constantly asked…
Anjali isn’t afraid of telling the truth through poetic sarcasm and pure sass.
Obviously, I’m elaborating when I’m saying the sarcasm is poetic – but it was witty. Especially the Ek ka vadda dil, dusre de vadde vadde bill and aagayi kamini bachi chodhne.
Anjali is excellent at mocking people.
Oh hello Mrs. Spritely – would you like some tea? Ask my family and friends – I love copying and mocking people, very lovingly of course.
Anjali thinks she’s funny. But, also, she is!
Anjali’s hilarious, and honestly, so am I. I’m not even going to begin to expand on this.
Anjali’s loud as hell
I’m not saying I’m loud, but I can’t whisper to save my life.
Coming back to the real question – am I Anjali from K3G?
This is a crazy phase of life, which one day – the day I’m really, really looking forward to, is a long, forgotten memory and just a story to keep the coming generations on their toes. But, for now, I am starting to experience new levels of gobsmackedness with how bored and restless I can be. I’m trying to find something new to do in this new normal.
I find myself colouring in the Zoé de Las Cases’ Secret New York, trying to come up with new writing assignments for myself, promising to not play anymore Candy Crush and actually read Pernille Hughes’ Probably the best kiss in the world. I also find myself perfecting my baking activities – like finally coming up with a batch of chocolate chip cookies (with nutella centre) that do not burn and brownies that are perfectly chewy, crispy and brownie-like.
So, apart from penning (or typing) down my thoughts, I thought I’ll put the recipe to my brownies! They’re not magical brownies – but, they do have magic. And no, the secret ingredient is not love. It’s boredom.
Ingredients:
Yogurt – 1 cup Self-Raising Flour – 1 cup Cocoa – 1/2 – 3/4 cup (depends on how dark you would like them to be) Brown Sugar- 1/2 cup Oil – 1/2 cup Vanilla Essence – 1 tsp Baking Powder – 1 1/2 tsp Sodium Bicarbonate – 1/2 tsp Hershey’s Semi Sweet Chocolate Chips – 1/2 cup
Method:
Empty the oven of all the things your mom’s stored inside.
Turn it on – and begin the preheating – I think it’s 350 Fahrenheit. Ask your mom. Or mine.
Mix the oil and brown sugar in a bowl – and whisk (beat) till it’s mixed and fluffy. Then add the yogurt and whisk till it’s mixed properly. Once done, add the vanilla essence. (I’ll now call this the wet mix – for lack of better words)
In another bowl, sieve and mix cocoa, self-raising flour, baking powder and soda. (Let’s call this the dry mix)
Starting add the dry mix slowly into the wet mix – 1 tbsp at a time and keep whisking the batter. Eventually, add all the dry mix into the wet mix and whisk it all together – till everything looks like it belong together.
Don’t stick your fingers in yet – you can taste it after.
Add the chocolate chips and to not destroy them – take like those plastic thingy’s that scoop things clean or like a normal mixer wooden spoon or you know, a spoon and start mixing them in.
Butter up the cake dish – glaze it with a little ghee or butter and then pour the batter in (halfway in the dish). Leave some extra batter to eat after.
Put it in the oven for 20 minutes – and do the toothpick test. Depending on the oven – might take 20-30 minutes.
I always thought I was a Charlotte – despite my career is basically what Samantha does – I was convinced between the either – at least I wasn’t a Miranda. Maybe a Carrie – since I do like to write, especially when I’m sitting by my window, staring out and writing.
But this whole quarantine situation seems to have thrown everything in the gutter. After living in my rotating set of PJs for three weeks straight, I’m starting to really get bored and want to dress up – even if it’s for myself and my parents. And while I’m still doing the work that Samantha does (professionally, not you know what she mostly did on the show), I’m looking at fashion’s late 90s muse – Carrie Bradshaw on the secrets of quarantine dressing.
Carrie was a risk-taker when it came to her outfits – she dared combinations I still wouldn’t exactly wear – but as a freelance writer working from her Upper East Side apartment, she was often at home in from of her MacBook – and dressed to the toe. While her problems revolved around what to wear to brunch and when would Big come around and not social distancing and self-quarantine, there is still inspiration to be found in her wardrobe.
With very little casual moments in everything that Carrie wore – even if it was for a grocery run or sitting down by the window to write her column. In an effort to find some joy in the new normal – here’s to embracing dressing up like Carrie.
For the Balcony:
While it’s no Parisian balcony with the Eiffel Tower in view, it’s a balcony – in the wild outdoors. Mix it up, put on a dress, maybe colour – and brush that beautiful mane.
For the Kitchen:
Bring out the checkered-shirts that you haven’t worn, matched unmatched PJs or add a pair of red heels to the outfit to make the drinking, I mean – cooking more fun!
For the Virtual Dinners in the living room:
Adding a little effort – maybe breaking in the big gowns, something with glitter, poofy sleeves, a giant flower broach or a tutu-skirt number for the surprise virtual dancing!
For the grocery runs:
Sure it might not be Manolo-s that you are going out for, but the grocery run every other day – could be the time to shine. Even elevate the simple capri and loose top with a pair of heels and a bandana. Bring out the pattern on pattern and the shiny belts you saved for some reason!
For the working out or athe-leisure dressing:
For someone who looked the way she did, Carrie didn’t do a lot of working out. So off-shoulder sweat shirt with pearls and mascara it is.
For the work video conferences:
I have seen those unfortunate videos of toilet sitting and no-pants *cringe* so, make a little desk – perhaps by the window. Add in a (faux) fur jacket, a headband or a bandana, a pearl necklace or just a cozy knit – add the chic in conferences that could be an email.
Our story begins about 5 and a half years ago, when I was stumbled upon the trailer of a show called ‘Jane the Virgin’. The title was enough to entice me and the opening trailer had me in giggles, intrigue and mystery – right away it went on my list.
Fast forward to today, the final season is dropping on Netflix this weekend and while I already watched as every episode dropped – I am ready to binge again! So, if you haven’t gotten on the Jane-parade – I’m here to convince you to start! We are at home, with nowhere to go – when can be better?
It’s a telenovela – which is basically a tv-show with a limited-run time and done in a typical Latin-American fashion. Meaning it’s dramatic, it’s surprising, it’s intriguing, its… its… its ADDICTIVE!
So, we begin with Jane. I mean, after all, the show is named after her. Jane is a virgin – who gets accidentally artificially inseminated by Rafael’s sperm by Rafael’s sister, Luisa instead of Rafael’s wife Petra. But, Jane is dating the cop Michael – who is looking into the murder of Rafael’s best friend’s murder – the same guy that Petra is having an affair with. Confused? Unconvinced? Okay, I will just list out reasons so you can start watching.
Jane
Jane is super relatable as a character – she’s not dangerously attractive that makes you wonder if you can ever relate. She’s cute – she’s your girl-next-door. She’s intelligent, charming, trustworthy, super competitive – all the qualities that make her so real.
Her obsession with grilled cheese sandwiches, her very real confusion between one extremely hot baby daddy and one kind of cute cop fiance or when she’s trying not to take sides between her mom and Abuela. She has her flaws too – especially when she’s about to get really angry. Oh, and did I mention she’s a pregnant virgin? That’s basically what the show is mostly about.
The Hot Men
I’ll be honest, quite a significant part of why I watch the show is because of the men on the show. Adding in the romance and mystery, there are three essential dreamboats that you need to know about – Rafael (Jane’s baby daddy) , Rogelio (Jane’s daddy) and Michael (Jane’s boyfriend/fiancé). If you are wondering, I’m on #TeamRafael all the way.
My favourite person on the show is The Narrator – better known as the Latin Love Narrator. Never before have I seen a show where the narrator had such an important role – his snide remarks, comments fit in seamlessly in every scene – collecting not only his thoughts, the characters’ thoughts but also the viewers!
Which brings me to –
Rafael Solano
I can’t be objective about this – it is what it is. I love Rafael. I wanted Jane to be with Rafael from the very moment they first kisses – five years before the show’s timeline – she should have always chosen Rafael. I am not sure what it was – the shirtless scenes, the sensitive side, the love he has for Jane and the kids or the way he always wanted the best for her – even if it was his expense – emotionally, mentally, economically.
While Jane was always the heroine we knew she is, Rafael’s character grew by the episode. From being the rich playboy to the joyous baby daddy to the man in love complete with the grand romantic gestures – there’s nothing you will not love about being on Team Rafael.
No Dull Moments!
Whether it’s Jane’s birthday with her mum Xiomara dancing seductively, or her favourite TV star turning out to be her dad or the fact that Rose wasn’t who she was or Petra had a twin. To say that the show is dramatic – is but of an understatement. On Jane the Virgin – there are no dull moments.
And while our dear Latin Lover Narrator adds a lot of intrinsic drama to the already dramatic scenes – Jane the Virgin has very unexpected cliff hangers – that aren’t just there for the sake of being dramatic. (I feel like this paragraph can be a drinking game for the word Drama).
There’s twists and turns and threats – that in on way or another affect and complicate every single character’s life. Some of the biggest arcs on the show that are often threatened and complicated are – Jane’s relationship with her mom, her ability to trust Rafael. It’s not just about #TeamRafael or #TeamJane – but conflicts that help the show grow more and kept me coming back on the edge of my seat episode after episode.
Relationships on the show
When it comes to relationships – they really did nail it. They showed all sides of all kinds of relationships – the mother-daughter relationship that Jane and her mom (Xiomara) have or the Xiomara and Abuela have or the one Petra has with hers. They are real, raw, messed up and just so entertaining for the most part. It sounds like a jumble as I’m saying it out loud – but the Latin Lover Narrator is really good at reminding/explaining/clearing out any doubts. My favourite relationship is the friendship of Jane and Petra – by the end of season 5 – that’s one of the relationships everyone ends up caring most about.
Rogelio and his DRAMATICNESS!
Gifs would be enough for him, honestly:
So, why don’t you join me and get on the Jane-parade!
The luxury of having and acting on an opinion or any notion is all that makes a difference. In the current times, with the unrequited claim of choosing, we are stuck indoors, indefinitely. In any other scenario, sleeping for a couple of days and watching time actually slow down would have been ideal – had it been a choice.
Last night, as I started out my window watching the lightening shake the city and the rain pour down – realization of how for granted I’ve taken things deemed upon my mind. After what seemed an internal debate for an hour, my subconscious concluded that the luxury of having a choice makes all the difference, just as I drifted off to slumber.
The option of doing nothing as opposed to having a day full of things as opposed to something and some nothings, that is what made all the difference. Even if in my mind I wanted to enjoy the luxury of doing nothing. Today, I have that opportunity – but I can’t bring myself to take afternoon naps that I so fondly love, or stay up until 3 AM watching silly movies and shows. It isn’t an option anymore – it’s the reality I’m caught up in. Time is slowing down, maybe we should too?
I hope as we come out of this stillness (and hope that it’s soon), we realize the things we have taken for granted – fresh hair, toes full of sand, the smell of fresh flowers, the fireworks in the sky, favourite meals in that corner restaurant, a crowded concert and the noises of the daily that are now very low.
I hope we remember the activities we have partaken, hope our wardrobes remain organized, our bookshelves full of life and let the dust never settle – on the water paints and the brushes.
When working out, we often get breathless, and tend to breathe from our mouth to makeup for the oxygen we are losing. But, while practising Bikram Yoga you aren’t supposed to breathe from your mouth. You are supposed to only breathe from your nose throughout the workout. Only in the beginning and end you use your mouth.
After doing bikram for months at end, I trained myself to not breath from my mouth when I’m in a posture. Other workouts, don’t work that way. So, my PT is constantly (for the past 3 years) reminding me to “keep breathing.” I’m still learning and reminding myself – don’t hold my breath.
In the world of metaphors (and over-thinkers), the term don’t hold my breath literally means to tell someone that an event isn’t going to happen.
In an endless loop, I had a realization (am I sitting by the window, talking in a Carrie Bradshaw voice? Possibly), that this meant more than just me trying to unlearn bikram yoga breathing. You see, I’m a dreamer, I am constantly scouting for hope and spend most of my optimistic self and time – holding my breath waiting for something that is likely to never happen.
I am not ashamed of hoping and looking for the rainbow, I would think of that as my virtue. I am always hopeful, but it’s my own expectations of everything else – not just necessarily me – that sets me up for disappointment. I wouldn’t want to settle for less than, but I shouldn’t be setting myself up for unnecessary breath holding and tension in my shoulders – and heart.
There is a need – nah, necessity – to constantly remind myself to breathe. To contain my expectations to myself – and to deliver on them, so I let go with a long exhale.
They say there are usually two kinds of people – those who like cats and those who like dogs. It’s not often that those collide – but it’s not shocking at the same time. Most dog people are cat friendly – unlike the cat people, they are not friendly. Unless I’m friends with them.
Growing up, I was in the ‘neither’ category. I wasn’t into cats and I was super scared of dogs. But, at the ripe age of 18, I was forced to live with the (now) cutest little Pug, named ‘Bruno’ and got attached to my best friend (Chandni)’s doggie, ‘Sugar’. It was a rough beginning – I would be scared to death every time the dogs came near.
But, cats. My, my. At the age of 27 – I’m still very scared of them. Their branding has been so – cannot blame me. But, also, you never know what they are thinking, they come and jump at you at the weirdest of times and some (very trained) cats revenge pee. That’s my reasoning. My friends, however, think otherwise.
This post was actually inspired by five very close cat-ladies who diguise themselves as ‘normal human beings’ I have in my life. Around their respective or any one else’s cat, they are a very strange specimens.
Potato with Sonia
One of my best friends from high school, Sonia is a very badass woman. She’s kind and understanding but she’s the boss. A Cat Lady 4 evz, she found a stray cat, named her Potato and became very attached. She had her schedule around Potato. She would leave the window open for Potato to come during feeding time and cuddle with Sonia. They had each other’s back through heart-breaks, long days of bird chasing, tiring work and almost every evening, watched soap operas together.
“Sweet Baby Angel” Candy with Asavari
“This is my cat, who is actually like my daughter, her name is Candy. You know what, I’m celebrating her birthday in like an afternoon high tea and you have to come, also here’s her IG – follow it,” said Asavari. I had known her all of a couple hours at work – and that was the introduction I got. In my head, I clicked it – cat lady. Her home is full of Candy’s toys every where – in every room and every corner. Candy is quite a character and definitely a madam with an attitude. Asavari is constantly worrying about Candy’s health and eating habits, I get scared texts when Candy is getting groomed – mostly about how she’s going to be killed in her sleep by her lovely cat. Asavari will constantly and actively argue about having the sweetest baby angel in the world who just sometimes, when pissed, revenge pees on her bed, ignores her back when ignored and has the entire Sehgal clan wrapped around her furry little finger.
Teddy with the only woman he needs – Janice
Janice and her foster cat, Teddy are constantly in an endless loop of hide and seek. Janice can be often seen crouching under the bed or the couch, politely (Jan is VERY polite and patient – at least with her cat) begging Teddy to please, please come out. When he’s not hiding, Teddy find his way around Janice’s shoulder and poses comfortably for a round of selfies. He keeps her entertained in the constant pool of ‘Meow’ that they both fluently speak and cuddles her when she comes back exhausted after a long day and a longer drive home.
Rafi with a cropped George
Georgina (or George, because her whole name is a syllable to long and she doesn’t want to be called ‘G’ or ‘Gina’) is my mentor, like my sister and a very close confidant. However, one of the new titles that she added for me in the last year is ‘Rafi-Seater’. Rafi is her cat – listen, don’t ask me breeds, because I wouldn’t know what to tell you – her son and her baby. Rafi isn’t like normal cats, he thinks he’s a mix of a monkey and a dog. He likes sniffing new people, loves the scaring the living hell out of me by jumping at me from behind the couch, over the counter, under the table and George’s lap. He’s expressive and doesn’t know when to stop ‘meowing’. I knew I was her last option when she asked me to cat sit last year. Since Rafi likes watching TV, as my own mischief, I would leave on Gilmore Girls. I can be scared or not a fan, but Rafi got her through some emotionally straining times and ate the pretty flowers I got her.
Mango and the kittens with Dee
I always thought of Devinder as a dog person, but here’s proving dog people like cats too, Dee fosters a lot of cats despite her partner Mark’s oh dear god, not again expression. She names them after food things – Ginger and Mango and Apple – and fosters them until they are stronger and adopted by happy families. I remember this one time a couple of months ago, she adopted a new mum with three teeny tiny kittens for a couple of months. She turned her guest bedroom into their cove and kept them until they were stronger and all adopted. I was scared out of my life to even touch them – but that’s just me.
Now, how do you know if your friend is a cat lady?
Check for hair on her clothes – please don’t be that embarrassing human nuisance that picks human hair and calls it for cat. No! Look for fine hair – that does not look like it feel from theirs.
Look for what kind of IG pages they follow – the number of cat memes and videos I get sent collectively from all five of them – I can start my own page.
Bring up an argument around what’s cuter – a baby, a puppy or a cat. 11 times out of 10 they will say cat.
If you have been out for way too long, do they look like they might have separation anxiety? Worrying about Candy peeing in their bed or if Teddy is too lonely?
You find them ordering clothes for cats – this one’s a real giveaway.
I have a confession to make – for someone who loves to read romance novels, I have not been doing a lot reading recently. I always find something more distractive – whether it’s a TV show that I’m watching for the nth time, or silly videos that unnecessary or just work because that does take a lot of my time. Whatever the reason may be, for I have not been reading a lot and so, I have not been writing a lot. Not good, I know.
So, with temporary quarantine on the cards because of the current unfortunate pandemic, I leapt to one of my many new unread books, this one called, ‘The Friend Zone’ by Abby Jimenez.
I found about the book on Book Depository while ordering a couple of other books, the story sounded interesting – but the title got my eye and cracked me up. I knew I had to get it.
Within three days I found myself at the end of the book, it’s not surprising – I do inhale books that intrigue me, but I haven’t done that in so long – it felt back to being myself again. Whatever that means.
Back to the book, just a little bit about it – the book has been written from two sides of the story – both the protagonist – the girl and the boy. Kristen and Josh. They met through their respective best friends who were getting married – as their maid of honor and best man. They hit it off soon – but Kristen had infertility issues that needed urgent medical care and Josh wanted a big family. But, they both wanted each other.
It’s interesting how the story progresses – especially knowing both sides of the story. Usually it’s a situation of OMG JUST TELL HER/HIM. But, that wasn’t often the case. They both knew exactly what the other wanted – eventually. But, it was all the hurdles that came along the way that they had to deal with together.
The book deals with some really honest infertility issues that most women deal with and the ordeal it becomes on their mental, physical and emotional selves. It is about love, but it’s also about friendship, crazy mothers and importance of ice cream sundaes and fries a the same time. It also proves a well-known theory that all firemen are really hot. Hehe.
It is well-written, witty, honest and easily relatable. I was shaking with laughter, giggling and blushing at the romance and crying – nah, weeping – at the sad parts.
I’m not a big reality TV buff – my one guilty pleasure is ‘Keeping up with the Kardashians’. I’ve watched it for more than a decade – and the first couple of seasons still crack me up. So when everyone got on the ‘Love is Blind’ train, I was just like oh this is another ‘Love Island’ record and didn’t really give in. Then my PT, Devinder Bains convinced me that I should just watch 1 episode – while cycling in the gym.
So, there I sat, with one episode downloaded. And as I started – I cycled the entire episode without a break. And straight away, I went home and watched the second episode and the third and the fourth. Then I had to wait for a whole 4 days for the next episode. And I was hooked.
Obviously, like most people, I was shipping Lauren and Cameron; – SPOILERS – and was shocked when Barnett said ‘I do’; and not at all shocked when Jesssica didn’t. Although my mouth fell to the ground when I saw Gianina just speed off. That was brilliant, I would do that.
I would like to say I inspired many. I convinced friends, colleagues, family – everyone on my Love is Blind train. I found “like-minded” people watching the show – it obviously is starting to sound like a cult – but here’s a show that you didn’t know you needed.
For those who don’t know – it’s people – in an arranged marriage setting. No, no – I’m being very serious. You know how like in olden Indian times where you don’t get to see your fiance till you are actually engaged – I’d like to think that’s where they found the inspiration. So, basically it starts with 15 men and 15 women – all kind of speed dating – without seeing each other. They are in these pods – so they are essentially sitting on a couch and talking to a wall – that talks back. Nope, nothing cuckoo here.
Then, based on who you like – you “meet” them more often until like the dude proposes – at which point the girl says yes, unless you are Gianina (Gigi) – where you tell him ‘no’ and then propose him anyway. He should have run then – oh well.
So this happens, once they say yes – they finally meet each other. And then whisked away to Mexico for a “pre-honeymoon”. And then they live together in an apartment – with the speedy wedding basically in 4 weeks of getting engaged. Crazy, right? BUT – IT’S SO ENTERTAINING!
So, “inspired” and excited, the gifs are everywhere. And I had to my favourites that I’m already making very good use of.
Gianina running away – and then falling.
JK, I’m not running away from men – I’m so single it hurt!
No, not all memes are Gigi.
Anytime some says something gossipy!
Talking about that girl hitting on my friend’s boy – “bitch you shiesty”!
Yeah, okay – so they are all Gigi.
Me – when I saw Jessica (in the gif) give her dog a sip of wine and then continue drinking from the same glass…
Simpson’s version of hiding in the leaves…
After an evening out…
Realizing that maybe this didn’t need to be an article, but its too late for that…
I’ll be honest, I’m not very tall. So for work events, I’m always in Mules or a little heels – basically anything that would “elevate” me slightly higher than the ground. So, come March – it’s event season in Dubai (I’m a PR girl) I’m at events and I’m constantly in flats. And it’s a fun story.
So, last year – just before Christmas (roughly 2 and something-ish months ago), I slipped and fell down the stairs in the cinema. INSIDE the cinema. While walking down to leave. I fell long and hard. Tore a ligament on my left ankle. I’ll tell you this, VOX cinema staff at MOE (Dubai) is lovely. They were really nice and quickly got the paramedics to check. It was awful. I was in a cast and absolute misery for over 3 weeks.
My mood swings were beyond me – I was very upset. For someone who’s always running around, moving about and doesn’t have “standing still” in her list of to dos, it was a new battle. Mostly internal but very dramatic. Obviously, it gets better, my brother was in town for a couple of days, and he wanted to go for the movie – and bear the drama that ensued following my fall. Needless to say, he was the one who had to run around like my flying monkey for water, remote and things I would conveniently forget by the time he grunted, rolled his eyes and came to answer my tenth call of the 20 minutes. Yeah, I am not holding my breath for the ‘best sister’ trophy this quarter.
But, this story and the mulling gets better. Just before I tragically slipped and tore my ligament 10 days before, I was at my friend’s wedding – and during this ceremony where the bride’s friends steals the groom’s shoes my other friend’s golden heel went straight in my right big toe. Ouchie. We cleaned it up, I was flying the next morning, so between a hangover, that pain and general wedding exhaustion was served on a platter.
At the wedding and at the event – same golden mules.
The next day I had an event and wore the same (golden mules) to it – being the forgetful bird I am – I forgot to clean them. By the end of the night, my big toe was twice it’s size and at least 8 times more painful. It turned out to be an inflammation. It involved a painkiller injection (my trypanophobia is a whole different story), anti-biotics and me being off my feet for 10 days. The procedure, pain and prescribed pharmaceuticals ended on Tuesday evening. By Friday 6.30 PM, my other leg had a cast.
Look, I’m very clumsy. I have always been – mostly my legs. Actually, mostly to my right leg. I had stitches when my mixer’s blade fell on my right big toe, or when my friend & I fell and I fractured my right ankle. Monthly twists, falling on flat surfaces (no alcohol/heels necessary), or just simply attempting to walk does it. But, it’s always been on my right foot – so my left one is the strong one. So, when I broke my left – my right was just in shock. It was still recovering from the unfortunate inflammation – and now being the main bearer of my entire being.
For the first couple of days, I was just hopping on my right foot, when the full cast went in, for a whole day – I was just remembering so, how am I supposed to even walk? I couldn’t put one foot infront of another. I’m still in a little pain – but it takes a while and I don’t really have an option so… here I am – mulling over mules.
Growing
up, I followed fashion closely, maybe that’s why I ended up working in PR in
luxury fashion. What really did happen at Fashion Week? I always wondered. If
you grew up in India – ‘Lakme Fashion Week’ comes to mind. But this wasn’t just
that – this was the real leagues; I’m talking Paris Fashion Week. A dream come
true? I would think so!
Taking you through the before, during and after of show – I’m here to tell you what I really do at a show in Fashion Week.
Before the show:
Our preparations easily begin a month and a half before the actual show. We look after the market we represent – so we start collecting names and details of people traveling to Fashion Week. Our lists are extensive – we ask our usual suspects and others. Obviously, not everyone gets a seat or an invite – but for our information – we keep building the list.
Now, most international brands work this way: the first day is the show and the second day is the resee. The ‘Re-see’ is like a presentation of what was presented at the show and everything else that will be launching next season.
The seat allocation for the show mostly comes about 10 days before the actual show – and the number of seats depend on the brand’s presence in the market. There’s three rows – and usually who we put on the second row is where most of our trouble begins with the egos. It’s critical and crucial to not bruise anyone’s ego – yet get most out of the deliverables.
Since most shows now offer live streaming – we pitch and secure key titles – think Vogue, Harper’s, and more – to live stream the show on the day of.
Relentless followups, receiving of angry (influencer) managers, getting them dressed in the brand for the show and all of that after – we get to the actual show. Yes, at a show, it is quite important that the influencer be dressed in the brand – and trust me most of the time I spend hours trying to get looks decided, or fittings booked and then getting them picked up from the hotels.
At the show:
Say a show starts at 9.30 AM, do you know what our reporting time ideally is? 6 AM. The setups are really massive, so we look for our seats, make sure they have name cards and the minute that is done, we (translation: me) are like kids in a candy store. There are models getting ready and practicing the runway walk, there’s people running around with those big headphones like in movies, there’s camera people setting up, and other PRs – like me- wandering around with twinkle in their eyes. There’s a beautiful breakfast set up of my favourite 3 Cs- cake, croissant and coffee. All the while, we watch everything slowly come to life just before the show.
Before the show starts, we go near the doors and look for our guests – media and influencers to take them to their seats. And within minute the show begins. I huddled behind the camera crews, with other global PRs and marketing teams – I will tell you this – it sucks to be a short girl – all my videos from the show of are of the back of people’s heads and the non-stop clicks of the camera. But, that music, the ambience, the clicking of cameras, and that the murmurs of ‘wow’ – warm my Fashion PR soul.
Just as the show finishes, I rush to my guests to make small talk about the show and ask how they liked the new collection. Obviously, since I saw the back of people’s heads – I saw through the many IG lives that were happening while I was huddled behind the sea of heads and photographers. I make sure the media knows I’m sending the assets of the show shortly and that the influencers took content for permanent posts, and after that – head to the hotel.
After the show:
It doesn’t end at the show – we wait for the brand to send the assets, releases, runway images, exclusive backstage images, first row (FROW) guest images and more to secure coverage. Then there’s a detailed post-event report that is submitted after the Resees – compiling all the coverage we secured for the said show & resees.
SWATINESS 