Of Butts and Long Legs

The numerous, often un-explainable glitches in the Indian fashion industry continue to baffle me. For one thing, I’ve never understood why when one style is “in fashion”, it’s impossible to find something of a different style. For the past few months, low-waist jeans have been “the fashion”. And for the last few months, I have been unable to find any jeans that are at my waist, not four inches below it. Today, I tried on nine pairs of jeans (I counted!) before I found one [hideously expensive] pair that I could wear. “Madam, aaj kal to yeh hi chal raha hai” (Madam, this is what is being worn these days) was what I was told every time I asked for jeans that were not low-waist.

Besides, I can’t even understand why low-waist jeans are so popular. Unless I’m wearing them the wrong way, low-waist jeans seem to be especially designed to display my underwear to the whole world. Of course, it is entirely possible (probably, in fact) that these jeans are designed for girls with butts significantly smaller than mine. On their small-sized butts, maybe the jeans look stylish, instead of bordering on inappropriate or obscene. And since I haven’t seen many girls showing off their Jockey or Enamour underwear, I guess those jeans really aren’t meant for me.*
Whatever the case, I refuse to believe that there are no girls who don’t want the entire world to know the colour of their underwear, or alternatively, girls with butts as big as (or bigger than) mine. Why oh why won’t Jealous 21 or Pepe Jeans realise this? How can they not see us and our [big] butts?

Another phenomenon that continues to mystify me is the utter non-existence of shorts for women in the market. I went to Globus, Lifestyle and Pantaloons today, looking for jeans and shorts. After spending half an hour in the trial room in Pantaloons (and severely testing the patience of the guy who was assisting me), I did manage to find a pair of jeans. But the only shorts for women that I found in any of these shops either reached three inches below my knee (too long) or three inches below my butt (too short). Where were all the knee-length-or-slightly-shorter shorts that so many girls need in the Delhi summer heat? I finally came home with three pairs of grey and black cotton shorts for men, found in Big Bazaar.

There is, of course, the chance that I am shopping in all the wrong places. I did try Sarojini Nagar for shorts, came home with shorts meant for men again. Delhi-dwellers, any ideas?


*Which brings me to a complaint I’ve always had: the problem of not finding clothes in my size. I’ve written about it here, though today, for a change, I actually found nine pairs of jeans in my size. And a dress.

Those Lazy, Hazy, Crazy Days of Summer

My term ended last week, and I finally got home after about three months on the 1st of June. My summer holidays are more than two months long (and this is after I did an extra term for five weeks!) so I came home with Plans. Lots and lots of Plans. I made The List of things I wanted to do over the summer. Guitar classes, driving lessons, a loooong reading list, cooking lessons at home etc etc etc. I was fully prepared to make sure that I didn't "waste" my summer, but used it productively.

Now, it's been four days since I've been home. The "Summer To Do List" has been stuck up over my desk. All the books on my reading list are sitting in a pile next to my bed and on my bedside table. Four more books that I bought yesterday have been added to that pile. I have an article to write and submit by the end of this week, several ideas for pieces I want to write for myself, and some studying to do to be super-prepared for next semester. The guitar that tested the good humour and politeness training of the lady at the check-in counter at the Singapore airport is just sitting at one end of the room, looking desolate and unused.

Yet all I can seem to find the energy to do is play endless games of Bubble or Crazy Taxi on my laptop, trying to beat all my friends' high scores, or make fun of Aishwarya Rai in Bride and Prejudice (and sigh over Martin Henderson) or sleep for countless number of hours in a day. Or try and figure out a weekend on which the calendars of my considerably busier family members are empty, so we can go on holiday together (and laze around some more).

What is it about summer that makes one so lethargic? It's not the heat.. I haven't really left my relatively cool room in the last few days. I think it's just the knowledge that I have two-and-a-half months to accomplish all that I want to, so really, there's no need to start right now, is there?!

Facebook it!

I know many people who, after every vacation, insist on showing me each and every picture they took. I am obliged to sit for half an hour looking at photos of people I don't even know, and to add to that, listen to the background story behind every picture! Why do people assume I'd be that interested? I mean, for my close friends and family, yes, I'll ask for the photos myself. Butwhy do people I spend next to no time with think that I'd really care enough to look at photos of them in their new house, with their new dog, with their old friends or vacationing in Shanghai?!

What people should do is put up their pictures on Facebook. That way, I can go through them if I want to, at my own pace, skipping as many as I want. This is the one actual good use of Facebook that I can see.

The Dark Side of Grey's Anatomy

Before I reached my rebellious, I'll-do-what-I-want phase, I had to follow the rules that were implemented at home. There weren't too many of them.. just some general curfew rules, and some about studies. I didn't have a problem with most of the rules. But the one rule I remember that irked me was the 'No-TV-on-weekdays' rule.

My father was always the anti-TV person at home. He believed that TV was a waste of time, especially for kids. He wanted my sister and me to do something "constructive" with our free time. He always told us to get out of the house, play something, try something new, do anything other than spending an hour in front of the TV. (He still says that, actually). And that was the time when IIT had just gotten many new channels on cable... Cartoon Network and Disney Channel were the new "thing" amongst the kids. And so, that 'No-TV-on-weekdays' rule really irked.

Then, when I grew past the age of having to follow the rules, I entered an obsessive TV-watching phase. I discovered the wonderful, wonderful world of downloaded episodes, fell in love with Patrick Dempsey and spent most of my after-class-10th vacations making my father hover on the brink of shouting at me by obsessively downloading and watching the entire series of Grey's Anatomy, among other shows. College in Singapore put a halt to my excessive downloading, but then the online streaming of Will and Grace and Two and A Half Men started.

After years of all this, I have, of course, realised that the world of TV-watching isn't as harmless as I had claimed when I argued with my father about his rules. I don't know whether all the violence on TV influences teenagers or not, or whether the "Western beliefs" showed on TV are infiltrating and corrupting my "Indian culture". I do, however, know that these TV shows can be highly depressing.

I don't generally wish that I had a guy as perfect as Derek Shepherd from Grey's Anatomy in my life, or go "Awwww...." when Derek and Meredith's legendary love overcomes all obstacles (such as Derek being married) in the show. It's not the love stories that make me jealous or melancholy. It's all the drama in TV series that I find depressing. I find myself wishing that my life had some of the constant drama that exists in Tree Hill or Seattle Grace Hospital. I want my life to be more interesting. I want something, anything, to happen!

That's why I think watching so much TV is bad for me. Not because it wastes a lot of time that would be better spent doing the work I have piled up, or because it gets me very involved in the lives of people that don't exist, but because the hectic and dramatic lives of those non-existent people makes me feel bored and unsatisfied with my own normal life.

I'm Actually an Adult!

It's a little weird how living so far away from home is forcing me to do all sorts of things I never would have had to do if I was living at home. For example, I wouldn't have to pay (or bother) to do my own laundry, nor would I have to hunt for vegetarian-food-serving restaurants (or cook for myself). I wouldn't have to walk to college while it's raining bloody cats and dogs, and get completely soaked on the way, or pester my hostel-in-charge to come and fix the blocked sinks in my unit.

I also wouldn't be in a situation where I would find myself homeless in a month unless I arrange for some accommodation myself. I wouldn't have to call a dozen real estate agents, searching for a decent, affordable apartment that meets the varied specifications and expectations that my 4 flat-mates and I have. I wouldn't have to negotiate the rent down, pay commission to the agent, or sign leases.

But, after a couple of weeks and $60 worth of phone calls and messages, I finally have an apartment. And a really killer one at that. We sign something called the 'Letter of Intent' today, and the official lease/contract sometime next week. I have to say, I'm a little proud of myself for doing all this work. Even though I didn't actually manage to negotiate the rent of this place down by much, I did talk down the rent for two other apartments that we didn't end up taking, and I did it all almost by myself.

I don't know whether this experience and all the other experiences that I personally don't believe I'm old enough (or sensible enough) to be having right now are teaching me anything, or making me more mature and sensible. But I do hope they are. Starting April, I will be living completely unsupervised in an apartment with four other girls, and I really hope I'm ready for all the expected responsibilities (such as paying the bills and the rent on time) and the unexpected responsibilities that we will all have to bear. I'm actually an adult now; I'm growing up!


On a slightly related note: sometimes, the amount of independence I have here overwhelms me. It hits me at random moments: how I'm completely free to do almost anything I want. I have complete control over my expenditure. I can buy things that my parents certainly wouldn't let me buy if I was at home, I can go out and not have a curfew, I can skip a lecture and go shopping instead. I think this freedom actually teaches me more responsibility than I could ever have learned living at home. Maybe I actually can deal with having my own place better than I think I can.