It happens every year, the skies darken with water laden cumulus clouds and unload their burden on the city which then promptly drowns under its burden of choked drainage systems, lack of desilting carried out adequately on its rivers and … Continue reading
No, Page 123 of L’Officiel has not happened. Not to my regret. What has happened is even better. Round faced, black dialed, dotted with diamonds, sinuous steel linked strapped Longines…..Isnt this man the bestest?
The countdown to the birthday intensifies and with it, the occasioning of many magazines lying open at strategic places being left around the house at strategic points like the husband’s pillow and the husband’s cupboard and the husband’s gym bag. … Continue reading
Denims. The wearing of. The obsession with. And the servile gratitude towards. That is what the subject of this post is to be. It actually took me a long while to get my butt into a pair of jeans. Through … Continue reading
Thirtysixandcounting Now that the holidays are done and dispensed with, and mango season is over, the remnants of the indulgences are all nicely settled around the waist and the hips like the trophies of honour from battle I have never … Continue reading
So here I am in a crisp white cutwork jacket with wooden buttons, warp faded denims from Replay, Aldo sequinned stilletoes and omnipresent leopard skin tote. No wolf whistles sadly, though I thought I looked good enough to whistle at, … Continue reading
Depression hovering like an irritant helicopter buzzing incessantly over my head. Occasioned by the indiscriminate use of the word aunty. The occasion:Standing at the takeway line outside McDonalds with the brat, who insisted on pulling the ganji of the himbo … Continue reading
