Close encounters of the yummy mummy kinds..

I had my self esteem taken by death lock grip and raised high, and then dashed to the ground in moves made popular by them wrestlers of the WWF variety over the weekend. For one, the day started promisingly in the morning when a random person from one’s college, male of course, whom one couldnt recall for the life of one, recalled one in glorious detail from one’s heyday as permanent fixture in the canteen after lectures, and then hastened to add that one hadnt changed at all. I was still basking in the glow of feeling I could go and give a college exam right now and have no one check my hall ticket to scrutinise the age on it, and such like, having recently read about woman in the US of A who entered high school and almost became a cheerleader for her daughter, leaving me wondering about how no one would be able to make out that a mother was impersonating her daughter and growing insanely jealous about implied youthfulness of said mother to pass off as said daughter without suspicions being aroused on the part of authorities and such like. But never mind. As long as I am not mistaken for the child’s grandmother I am okay. Though the ego does sink a bit when them teenage types, especially of the hunky variety, whom one has been slying ogly through dark sunglasses like a Mrs Robinson on the prowl, turns and says all innocence of youth, “Excuse me aunty.”

Anyway, one digresses. Coming back to the dashing of the self esteem. Of which much had already been dashed to the ground one gadzillion times earlier, the latest occasion being this very evening with the extreme huffing and puffing and sucking in of stomach one did trying to get the button and the button hole to come together on one’s only decently lycraed pair of skinny fits.

Then one reached the party venue, where one perforce landed being designated escort service for child. The party room was populated by few children sliding on the floor, and intent on decimating the painstakingly put up decorations. My gaze was drawn to the women sitting patiently around the fringes, engrossed in deep intent conversation of no doubt earthshattering matters like which spas have the best hot stone massages on offer. They were glamazons. From the tips of their squared nail french manicures and pedicures. (Yes, square tipped french pedicured toes, folks, I would live in terror of bumping into walls with my toe nails reaching forward before the rest of me did.) And their perfectly blowdried hair. I apologetically scrunched my messy mane into the scrunchy I’d scrunched it into before venturing forth on the trip. One was engrossed with another in deep conversation on the lifechanging decision of whether to roll her hair in or out while blowdrying it before leaving for this do. For me, who only sees the hair dryer anywhere near the head bi-annually during them hair cuts, it was a revolutionary experience. I had seen the holy grail. Just running a comb through ones knots and detangling and delousing the hair was not enough to be groomed. One had to blow dry it before occasions.

Now I knew where the husband’s snorted comment about how my hair looked the same combed or uncombed came from, and why a friend snorted delicately about how untamed and natural my hair always looked. I had actually taken it as a compliment. Now, after this moment, I would always think of hair and self as a wild woman running with the wolves kind of look. You know, matted hair and tangles needing garden rakes and shears to get rid of.

Then there was the base carefully applied and blended in. The perfectly applied eyeliner, and the hint of mascaraed and curled eyelashes. The glassy nude lipstick. The diamonds flashing themselves obscenely at one as they waved their hands graciously in conversation in gestures that screamed see my rings, see my rings, right now, check out the size of the rocks. And the clothes, that was another story. Tight jeans. Tight tees and perfect bodies. Perfect bodies, with zero fat percentage. I siddled into a corner and heard my mother’s voice in my head. Back straight, shoulders back, smile on your lips.

Mother earth swallow me right now. How do they manage so much perfection on a day to day basis, when all one can manage to do is ensure that the nose hair is not sticking out, and the teeth dont have greens sticking between them?

The moral of the story: I have only my brains to fall back on.

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About Kiran Manral

Author of The Face At The Window, ( 2016), Karmic Kids, All Aboard (2015) , Once Upon A Crush (2014) and The Reluctant Detective (2011).
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19 Responses to Close encounters of the yummy mummy kinds..

  1. aneela says:

    yes but do any of the ‘glam patrol’ have even half of your wit? can they hold any of their audience captive for months on end?!!! will any of their “groupies” be checking their blog feed if their “guru” has posted any missive while they slept hainjee?!! can any of their brats have half of the world enraptured…Im pretty sure they (and their progeny) are pretty much clones of each other…see one coiffed Mumbaite and you have seen them all…you are an ORIGINAL..and this is the last you will hear from me on this topic…next time you post on this theme all you will hear from your fan group in the Southern Hemisphere will be a cool shrug of the shoulder “bus aivee banatey hain log”.

    You are too kind my dear!

    Like

  2. aargeesworld says:

    God! How do they find time? I can never. I better not go attend any party-sharty…not my cup of tea!

    When your kid is in school, you have to go to his classmates birthdays if you expect an attendance at his. Tis the done thing dear.

    Like

  3. Chanda says:

    Ha Ha!! Hilarious and so true…

    I know exactly what that feels like.In the struggle of trying to manage a husband,a home,a stressful job…I end up looking most of the times like the village idiot! Ofcourse the benchmarks are very high with all the HOT,pretty,slim trophy wives around! My ONLY consolation to the battered ego is that I can hopefully depend more on the brain vs the brawn!

    Join the club!

    Like

  4. Another Kiran in NYC says:

    I am a lazy woman.
    Lazy women unite!

    Nuff said!

    LOL. I’m not lazy. But am not as manic as these women. They’re perfect. Its scary.

    Like

  5. Kiran says:

    Just tell them how many namesakes read your blog daily ;))

    Anyhow, I have a friend who is smart too and is just blessed with an amazing figure (she shrank back to normal an hour after her delivery) and fits the whole – Yummy Mummy profile. In a shameful moment of jealousy, I had compared my life with hers and thought about why do I end up looking like one of those sadhus wandering the streets in search of eternal peace, dreadlocks and all when I realised, she is very very self occupied. Manicures, pedicures, highlights, shopping all take precedence over spending time with friends, maintaing order in the house or keeping in touch with family. I have realised that everyone has a priority list for the 24 hours we get in a day and if I choose to put my feet up and read Arabian Nights when it means I could have run out and gotten umpteen manicures done, then its my well read mind versus perfectly manicured fingers. Sorry for the looong comment !! You are such a beautiful person, dont let them lower your self esteem even a teeny bit πŸ™‚

    Of course, its the choices we make. I would rather be in the park with my son that have a spa treatment, and then rue it when I see my hair like a rats nest…LOL.
    No, self esteem is too strong to be battered by such externals. The day someone tells me Im a bad person is the day I shrink and die.

    Like

  6. Priya says:

    πŸ™‚ A hairdresser once told me since I have naturally wavy hair; I could put some hair serum and let the hair dry naturally…and not to comb the hair, as it would spoil the waves! I followed it thinking this is so perfect, no need to comb my hair or dry it!!!!
    Alas, husband and friends comment cautiously that my hair needs a brushing πŸ™‚

    Reminds me of my husband who looks at me when I am ready and asks me if I really am ready to go out.

    Like

  7. NainaAshley says:

    I’m right there with you on this …well not exactly because you are so much more smarter, great looking and of course saner. But I also see such yummy mummy types all round me and what makes it worse is that they are not dumb, they are just as smart and some are even more accomplished! Oh I hate them! Did I mention I’m jealous?

    Cmon, you think more of me than I am. Sadly, the ones Ive met are totally image obsessed. Nothing to talk to about. Except the shopping and the salons and movies. Wonderful for dumbing down conversations.

    Like

  8. p says:

    square nailed toes..how how how do they manage that..do they wear velevty cushiony footwear all day?? and talk abt rocks..a friend close to me was gifted 5 Carat! diamond studs..which she wears everyday (!!!) I mean each stud of 5C !! When i asked my darling spouse when am i gonna get something similar..he thinks i am joking ..baaaahh 😦

    Wowie. Am never going to get that, so will not even ask. And then too, will probably keep them in the locker rather than risk having earlobes torn off. my 50 cent ones are quite okay thank you. LOL.

    Like

  9. Average Jane says:

    Classic last line.

    Story of my life Jane!

    Like

  10. p says:

    I also just read “You can never be too rich or too thin! – Lola kutty” You remember lola kutty dont u?

    Like

  11. RaisingT says:

    I know what you mean… How do these people manage to look so rich?? probably because they are πŸ™‚

    Like

  12. Abha says:

    oh! i am beyond feeling jealous or even mildly envious now!!

    i think i have attained nirvana along with stretchmarks and tyres!! πŸ™‚

    cheers!

    abha

    Like

  13. dipali says:

    They are a different species!
    I’m a comfy slob type person, and happy with it!
    You are gorgeous, K. You don’t want o be like them glamazons

    Like

  14. sraikh says:

    I tell myself I am much younger than them. Yup thats my only consolation.

    The mummies at Neil’s preschool are all fitness freak. They cycle 2 miles round trip with a toddler and baby. They dont do pedi/mani but climb/hike/cycle/run marathons… Now those put me to shame

    PS;Are you still doing the 5a/m walks?

    Like

  15. Dottie says:

    oh you are glamarous. plenty glamourous and the brain a size of the moon. so πŸ™‚ and did nobody tell the glamazons (loved that word btw) that bed-head is IN this season?

    Like

  16. Shobana says:

    Yikes! These kind of people give me nightmares. You, btw are very glamorous…now, if only I can find that Youtube clip of your interview….

    Like

  17. Priyanka says:

    They make me feel so inadequate!! I mean just one long look from them head to toe and poof: my confidence that I got from the beauty parlor after half an year yesterday will go down the drain.
    How do these females find time to take care of their kids, maintain a house, and maintain themselves? I can’t even find time to get waxed these days 😦
    Oh and Kiran, when you see them sitting there, don’t they seem like clones? Perfect figure, straight as rain hair, tight clothes and all? Well, we someone have to stand in stark contrast to highlight what is natural and what is outta a bottle… πŸ˜‰ Small comfort? Well, am still trying to convince my hubby on this πŸ˜‰

    Like

  18. Sue says:

    “I apologetically scrunched my messy mane into the scrunchy I’d scrunched it into”

    Milady — only you can come up with a gem like this one!

    And if you dare fish once more today I shall tell you just how altogether unattractive you are, OK?

    Like

  19. childwoman says:

    ‘The moral of the story: I have only my brains to fall back on’

    Kiran, THAT is more than enough…

    Like

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