Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Scenes from a mall: part three

Giving fashion advice is not what I planned to do today but certain endeavors are often the consummation of your reaction to circumstances. Yesterday evening at the mall I saw what is the fad, what is chic and what some people wear under their trousers. After the experience I concluded that fashion was created by the voyeur, for the voyeur, worn by the deficient.

However if you are a fashion-aficionado, I may have something for you. Ladies first!

Ladies, it is not your shoes that we notice first and you know that by now, right? You figured that out when you were 13. However when you are standing on something that looks like Snoopy's pen, we have to lower our eyes and grimace. Then you know that you have our attention.What you do not know is that, that "shoe" was not made by your friend. In fact it was made by someone who had no clue about human anatomy. A girl who is perched on top of that may feel 'sexy' because she may have seen the hot chick in the Gladrags centre-spread, had her legs up in the air wearing one of those. Yes, her feet are "up". She doesn't walk around a mall wearing one of those, because she would trip, fall down and break her freakin' nose. So girl, if God didn't give you height, find a matching guy. Do not stand on stilts. Leave it to the clowns at the circus. They get paid. You don't.

The tighter the fit, the better it is? I had a half-nod on my face when I thought of Kim Kardashian. But I am not Ray J to speak with conviction. And speaking of proper fit, I found a rather bovine girl wearing something she perhaps purchased when she was at prep school. The apparel was the big-red on the right. It took me a double espresso and multiple deep breaths to pacify my palpitating heart. Even the coffee tasted red for the first few sips. It looked like Jerry Springer had come to town and was in the mall.

I maneuvered the corner to the book shop and almost screamed out when I saw this apparition. Her face had more colors than a Picasso. She would have spent a few, highly unproductive hours painting her countenance to create that effect. She can't be married. If she is, then Salvador Hali is still alive and in her bed. Girl, if your face is the window to your soul, you have a rather colorful soul. As colorful as an Indian Holi; and as mad as it. Be warned, it is illegal in some countries to walk around like that after sunset.

Enter, Men. In all sizes and shapes. Some skinny like me, some big, some small. The teenage boys who walked past me seemed to have some serious issues. Their denims were fastened at the tip of their genitals, assuming that is where they had their organs like everyone else. To make sure that the denims stayed there, they walked like cow boys with hernia. Why would you do that, kid? May be they were in the loo and some urgent matter got them leaving the job half way through and they had to rush outside. And suddenly, they forgot what was it for! The last time I did something similar was when I was 3 years old. My evil mind wished for a bomb scare and people stampeding over two guys withe their trousers around their ankles.

The man in the picture had the roving eye and strange hair. He kept looking at the girls who passed by and kept checking his head gently as if to ensure that it was still intact. This stud had hair that beat all odds and physics to remain erect and waved gently in the air conditioned breeze that wafted around us, bearing mixed perfumes. Two kids at the ice-cream shop, stopped crying and gazed at him through wide eyes. Their mother seemed transfixed by this sight. She looked confused. So was I. I wondered how would it look like if it caught fire.I wondered what would happen if it got stuck on a coir carpet. I wondered if he was from Chernobyl. Hey guy, you won't get any girls with that. You will trap a few flies, sure.

The tale of trousers didn't end. The obvious reason for impotency presented itself in front of us all. The young man wore something that took a tailor some strategic snipping and stitching. What got me thinking was how he got into one of those. Oh wait!...how the hell is he going to get out of it? That was just the beginning of a series of concerns that crossed my mind. Is he color blind? Does it pain? What is the maximum speed that can be attained while wearing this and walking? Can he sit without seriously damaging his family jewels? He didn't seem concerned. I looked around. There were more sights around than a pair of eyes could take in.

More on that...later. I need another espresso.

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