Closet Sweep: Day 38


Dress: Anokhi. It’s an umbrella cut with satin ribbons for shoulder straps that draws the neck together. I bought it for a baby shower.

Blazer: Vintage velvet (Thanks Nawaz masi!). I replaced the buttons.

Shoes: The curved heel Clarks.

Accessories: Black stockings (it was cold; I didn’t want to wax). These earrings from Hill Road.


It was the store opening of a textile revivalist and I wanted to wear something Indian, but contemporary.


1. So in Tushar’s household, they make this awesome kheer. It’s immovably thick on account of reduced milk, condensed milk, ghee roasted almond slivers and vermicelli. It’s angel semen. Wouldn’t it be awesome if biofluids could be engineered to taste yummy? You Stanford, MIT-wallahs, are you on this?

2. I have a business idea. Ganpati is big right? You’ve seen the pandals. There’s a Subhashchandra Ganu, a baby Ganu, headlines Ganu. I sense an opportunity. Dashboard accessories — chattri, havan pind, scroll, mouse, turban, crown, etc. Different figures — student Ganpati, scribe’s Ganu, long-distance traveller Ganu, gunning down terrorists Ganu. Different costumes. Who’s got China on speed-dial?

Closet Sweep: Day 36


Tunic: Fashion street. A stylist from Grazia gave it to me. It’s silk and has lines of random lettering in typewriter font. It’s really unique and I am so pleased she gave it to me.

Tights: Dark grey, charcoal

Shoes: Yellow T-strap wingtips. These are lovely and every time I see them I wonder why I don’t wear them more. Because of the almond toe. It bullies my toes. These are up for grabs if anyone wants. They are Indian size 7 (UK 5, Euro 38).

Closet Sweep: Day 35


I remembered that morning that I had to be at a book launch AND a fashion event. My brain hadn’t woken up yet, so I pulled out what I had. The blouse has been worn before, so the rules have been broken and I am no longer morally obligated to my anal inner self to continue this exercise beyond the pictures that lie in my phone.

Top: Silk. Rs 150
Waistcoat: Zara off the Road. Rs 200
Jeans: Gap
Shoes: Black slip-ons which have a small wedge heel. Very sneaky, these are. Extremely plain but comfortable elevation.
Hair: I told you about those feathers right? This is what it looked like. My favourite comment about it was, “Looks like a bird rammed into your head and died.” At least it was a pretty bird, stinky.


Closet Sweep: Day 34


Shirt: The shirt of weariness that accentuates lop-sided boobs, or gives you the appearance of them, if you so wish. From FabIndia. A shirt that FEELS better than it looks. I’m going through a funk right now and it shows in the clothes and general cussedness.

Pants: Gap jeans

Shoes: Jesus chappals

Accessories: I had to head out to the Kala Ghoda festival afterwards, so I just threw on a durakh shawl which saved the day. I looked Kala Ghoda types. Silver earrings and GShock watch


My hair has feathers in it. My most inventive and cheap hairdresser braided them in. I went for black wool with blue, purple and a peacock feather to end it all. I’m too restless and cheap for highlights.

Documenting how thoughts run in the editorial

Fuck man, it’s such a boring day.

Ya man. Why is it so boring today?

Is it because the weather is so great outside and we’re stuck inside?

Ya man, it’s so great outside.

Who do I have to sleep with to have this weather every day of my life in Bombay?


Zeus? Why Zeus? Doesn’t he wield a thunderbolt?

Ya, but you should sleep with Zeus man.

Zeus sleeps with everybody.

Ya, but you should sleep with him and get a child and then he’ll be like a demi-god and everything.

And he’ll have an epic written about him?


I can be in a play? They’ll be a play written about me?

So you have to sleep with Zeus to get a role? That’s the original casting couch?

Closet Sweep: Day 31

It was our anniversary and to be honest, it was a little anti-climatic. I fear that the social part of my brain is a bit broken and the best way I can explain this is that I swim at a tea-party. Anniversaries make me feel like that — that I should be taking stock, feeling gratitude and generally a little moony, but the heart is not forthcoming. It’s out at the back, smoking a cigarette. And not even smoking because it wants to rebel and likes the attention; smoking because it really, really likes it.

I am aware that something is expected of me, but I don’t know what it is.

The feeling is of being called into a room that has all your teachers and family, and the particularly competitive parents of your classmate and they are all looking at you. Waiting. And you don’t know what it is that you should do. And they just shake their heads in disappointment and your mother is throwing a particularly sharp look that means that though she won’t reprimand you directly, your dad is going to get an earful tonight.

SO! With this track playing in my head, dressing makes me really anxious. I *should* be wearing a really sexy dress, doing up my hair, putting on some make-up and wearing heels, but my husband may not like taking a transvestite to dinner. Maybe he meets eunuchs only off the side of the highway, in the marshes. I’m a cool wife like that.

But if I don’t make even a little effort, I’ll feel like a loser who is crippled by the thought of going to a restaurant where you sit down to have dinner. What’s the point of working in media if you are going to be dictated by it.


This is the outfit that that feeling wears.

Dress: Sample dress from Hill Road. Rs 650


Tights: Random hosiery store in Israel.


Shoes: Clarks, with a broad toe and curved heel


Jacket: Old Navy from Clothes Rack. Rs 1250 or something
Scarf: Pashmina
Accessories: A gold chain with a farohar pendant that Tushar’s aunt gave me recently. My MIL gave me a farohar when I married into the family, and that is small discreet one; this farohar took over Tokyo. I’MKIDDINGMASI,ILOVEYOU.MOREWINE? And a Seiko watch.

I wore this outfit to work the other day; just changed the heels to flats and wore this diamante and link cluster neckpiece.