Now that PMS is not even a bad word anymore in my lexicon, but just an inevitable part of why my glasses aren’t tinted rosy any more, but more on the lines of the deep dark grey that makes me want to burst into tears every second moment, I think some major cheering up is required. Therefore, window shopping. Of course, that can get very depressing too, if I cant buy something I spot which just begs to be bought. Like this marvelous carpetbag I spotted at In touch at Inorbit the other day. Hues of brown and beige and rust, and lovely braided handle and sides and to die for. But steeled myself, with firm hand on wallet and on heart. A carpet bag? In the monsoon? Am I mad? Came totteringly close to admitting I was, and then am proud to say, resisted temptation like have never resisted it before and sashayed out of the store, with whining brat on my heels. He’d just about discovered the mirror and realized he was the handsomest thing around in the store and was making elastic faces into it, before Cruella de Mamma whisked him away to more prosaic stores like Spencers to pick out provisions. Is there a future career a la Jim Carrey in store for him?
What is it about me and a bag shop? Something like alcoholics and wine shops? I spot them out wherever I go like a sniffer dog sniffing out contraband. On the way back from therapy everyday, we pass through Lokhandwala market road. No, we don’t really need to pass that way and get stuck in the incessant honking and need to distract the brat with some wild exclamations and pretend staring at imaginary griffins and dragons on the other side of the road when McDonalds nears, but it is just the sheer pleasure of driving down a street with so many On Sale signs. The street is permanently on sale. Infinite shops with goods priced at Rs 500 only for anything signs on their windows. On no other shopping street have I ever consistently seen stores on 50 per cent sale through the entire year. It is such a temptation to get out there and buy something, anything. If its on sale, it needs to be bought. Such is the logic. Whether I need it or not is secondary and irrelevant. FYI, Charles and Keith at Inorbit in Malad is on sale. And their shoes are to die for. Have still got my eyes set on the copper wedge heeled Kolhapuris at Catwalk, but something in me is still to reconcile to the concept of shelling out almost two grand for Kolhapuris. Through the street shacks, one sees these Kolhapuris with no wedge heel though for Rs 150 to Rs 200. But am still to reconcile myself to go around without the added incentive of a heel. Today though I am in braided white strapped flat sandals which were a gift and were lying untouched in the shoe rack for well on a year until the rains managed to convince me that I had a genuine excuse to go flat footed. The current must buy agenda though are sensible shoes which can be worn in the rains, since I have managed to completely ruin one Nine West and one Aldo pair, and have sobbed bitterly while junking them, so ruined beyond repair they were. But knowing me, will go into a store and pick out the highest, strappiest most impractical number and sashay out, brilliantly promising myself will go there another day for a rainy pair. Anyway, for the really rainy days, I can always wear my floaters. Oh come on, who am I kidding? Will end up in my highest heels hoping I don’t need to actually walk anyway and manage to sprain my ankle au consequence. And the husband will mutter dark things about how adding additional inches to the height does not minus the inches on the width.
And also, all my bags, have discovered are extremely impractical for the monsoon, or too damn expensive to ruin in the rains, so will need to buy one more to get me through the monsoon. The only one I have right now getting me through the days is a fake Gucci horse bit hobo, which thankfully doesnt let the water through. Am dreading the ruin of this though…. good fakes are hard to come by.