CRITICAL

Who decides the shirt, pant or dress you wear on a Monday morning; Eva Longoria, Oprah, Suzy Menkes, the Kardishians or that cute girl on a Nigerian blog?

It was on a dry and dusty afternoon a side effect of the harmarthan which had flung itself upon our lives like a desperate lover-‘like were where you when it was your season?’ Embalmed in Pears baby lotion to combat the dust, I hung out with the guys and discussed about the usual stuff that pre-occupies our minds…then suddenly one of them blurted; ‘there is something important I want to ask you’. I shifted my gaze to him and he had that serious look in his eyes like he was my dad and had discovered something I did wrong and was preparing to corner me into a confession and subsequent punishment-ten strokes of the cane not like those crème children in America who are sent to their room were they still have their T.V and Play-station 2; and they call that punishment!

‘You remember that friend of yours, that one in fashion’ he inquired and I nodded in agreement. ‘What he wears sometimes…I have seen him wear some things and I just over look it but the one I saw in someone’s phone, AH’, he stressed; ‘Really?’ I interjected but he continued like a lecturer in the middle of a lecture not to be interrupted.
‘He was all dressed up in a suit which was alright till I saw him carrying a clutch purse’, and at this point the other guy with us joined in ‘ehh!’ he chorused. ‘What I think you saw is a man bag’ I reiterated. ‘No! I am telling you it was a clutch purse’ he replied almost as soon as I finished speaking.

‘Even the guy that showed me the picture; when he told me that it was something serious I was immediately curious because usually when he says it is SOMETHING, then it really is SOMETHING’ he added with the finality of a lawyer making his concluding statement in court after a gruelling trial.

Sure there are a lot of head turners; like the young dude that tied a scarlet red wrapper to my church on a certain Sunday. Imagine the stares, and yes he came in, in the middle of the service: ooh what a sight it was. He also strived for symmetry wearing in addition a pair of black UGG Dakota moccasins and a fussier pink shirt, and he is also quite good-looking; sorry I am a guy; I would feel really awkward describing a guy in detail like they do it on E!. But to me the outfit was surreally elegant…maybe not for Sunday morning.

I wonder if you get a degree to becoming a critic but like every civilised society where the thump print of a man is stronger that the trigger of a gun I believe that the critic must also dance to the music of a higher power-the people. I sound political (giggle) maybe it’s in the air but it’s just a thought as I must admit that I have judged to quickly in this case before men now.

I was told to wear a pink shirt, red tied and a black suit to usher today and I vehemently opposed the idea in my mind but looking in the mirror now: I look pretty damn good *winks*.


Photo credit: Google images

A GREENHORNS OPINION-BLAME IT ON LOVE

Talking of greenhorns, I find myself again at this stage of my life being one in the razzmatazz world of fashion-saying that word with certain Italian swag - fashion.
Okay, so talking about greenhorns; I am spurred by the ardor of recently graduating from the university and hungry to do all those things I have seen from afar in the recline of my sofa opposite that magic box called the T.V. From afar I have I longed to tread those so called sacred grounds of the Nigerian creative industry one of which is the fashion industry. The thing is that I am not a designer, heck I can’t even tell satin from velvet yet that’s not to say that I have not been grounded on the basic rules of dos and don’ts - so glad I am not a guy because the ladies have it hard – but I must say that I was a bit of trouble finding the were I fit till I got the opportunity to P.R for a rising fashion label – must admit I am tempted to do small advert (sniggering).

Therefore my to do list became to learn the fashion lingua franca, understanding Aba boys and tailors – some of those tailors are a true test of ones patience – fashion events, people, etc. but my ‘palava’ today has top do with a certain demeanor I have observed characterizes some Fashionistas. Before I go further I must say that I am the new guy, the greenhorn with an opinion so I may be wrong; so I’ll let the experts be the judge.

The demeanor I speak of to be direct is snubbing. It may be a Lagos thing with all the affluence and the need to show whose boss on the one hand or it could just be an after effect of the stress in this city that never ever, ever seems to sleep. Even the nicest guy would become a grouchy ogre if care is not taken but still my short time in this business has been a mix of applause, with a reoccurring shallow gaze, blank faces when you smile, then with nice comments and then later with absolute battery on blogs, and then misguided eyes from living human beings faces to the screens of their lifeless blackberries as if the world revolved around only them.

Well just to rub it in, my efforts to becoming a socialite today saw me attending one of those elite fashion fairs for networking , window shopping and just plain gawking at those gorgeous people whose skin seemed never to have felt the harsh rays of the Nigerian sun. So I am standing in the middle of the market and I am shocked there is no cajoling or a least an inviting glance when I seemed particularly interested in an item – well to be fair I was starring a female bag so I guess that doesn’t count – but still a customer without a buyers attention to me seemed like bad marketing but again its just a greenhorn’s opinion.

A certain “lady of cultural in betweens and political contradictions” of whom I am an aficionado of, spoke of the press being to quiet because of capitalism; so for opening my big mouth, I have a defense. My defense? I blame it on love, a love for my new found muse: fashion.