Sunday, 14 August 2011

What to wear?

Right after the office I and Priya rushed back to my flat at 30 km/ph speed. As I turned the keys in the lock Priya flung opened the door with the hard kick and we marched up to my closet leaving our purses in the doorway.
“I can’t believe that you didn’t even think about what-to-wear-on-date cloths!” Priya shirked and pulled open my closet doors.

“I was so……err….whatever! I am sure I will have something to wear. Something decent. Just don’t shout on me and help me to dig out some dress” I said almost pleading.
"You should better have something decent coz you are going to Café Basilico not Barista. Remember that” she shot me a stern look. She was right; I just couldn’t get away with plain jeans-T-shirt combo or some Kaftan look. I definitely needed something nice if not to look smashing then at least to look reasonably good to take this date to the second, third, fourth…. date. Today if I failed to cash this chance, cash him then I promise I would board the train back to Shimla no matter what Priya or my parents would say.

“You really don’t socialize. Do you? Your wardrobe is telling everything about your super glamorous life” Priya said sarcastically while examining my blue superman t-shirt.
“You. You are my social life. When I am not socializing with me, I socialize with you and our social events required us to wear Pyjamas and ganjis not cocktail dresses and sequined jackets. Do you get that?” I snapped. It was getting too much. I seriously didn’t have anything happening to wear other then my staple wear. When I am writing this blog I seriously think that, Am I really becoming Bridget Jones day by day? Will I really die alone in my old not-raw-silk-but-cotton-pyjamas with a pile of rom-com dvds in one corner of the house, pile of Mills and Boons in the another corner and jars of nutella and rappers of strawberry yogurt bars scattered all over the place and no one would really notice that I am gone until my apartment start exuding vom-stinky smell? Oh gosh! My imagination is going terrible with every passing second.

After digging for good forty minutes we finally came to the conclusion that I seriously have nothing to wear but denims. So Priya decided to do something marvelously creative to my denims so they won’t look simple or just plain. She reached for the paper cutter in her purse which she always keeps as safety weapon in her beg and started scribing and tearing my jeans at different places and after ten minutes I was the proud owner of almost rugged & torn denim which surprisingly I liked more than I thought I would. I quickly pulled down the plain white t-shirt and tied my pink MANGO scarf around my waist instead of belt. Putting on my only and only and only Jimmy Choos, I hit the road and hailed the cab for Café Basilico. As the driver pulled over the taxi outside the café somehow I knew I was gonna nailed it.

 Signing off:
Poised girl in the big city!!

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