I was quite disappointed to notice that Zimbabwe was not represented at the show. I am not sure what that’s about, but then I've recently concluded, “Duh, they’re waiting for me innit.” – now if I could get past my current “sewing a zip” frustrations in my sewing class, I would be on the fast-track to stardom. On a serious note, I KNOW Zim is teeming with designer talent and quite frankly don’t understand the lack of representation…mmmmh.
I was hoping to catch the Sika show, their stuff is fan-ta-bu-lous, but sadly couldn’t get any tickets. Thanks to my friend D, who managed to rustle up some free tickets for Sunday’s show, were I caught the Martinique* designer, Paul Herve Elisabeth. His summer themed collection that brought the Caribbean vibe to chilly Jozi made me wish it was summer already *sigh*
Things that stood out for me at the show:
1. Some people were dressed like they were trying to upstage the designer and/or the models. What’s the point of getting all tarted up if noone is actually paying you any attention?
2. There was a pack of mohawk’d, dapper-inspired, vertically-challenged boy-men at the show. Supposedly, they’re a jozi fashion show staple. Twas the darndest thing; there were so many of them, I couldn’t tell if I was looking at a new boy-man or one I’d already seen, lol.
3. I didn’t get the memo which would have informed in that a pre-requisite to attend these shows is to speak in French ‘cause EVERYONE was parlez’ing their francais. It sounded so cool that I was content eavesdropping just to hear those sexy lilting tones.
4. A model is only as good as her walk. If her walk is wack, you end up focusing more on that than what she’s wearing. I’ve watched enough FTV and even attempted that coltish-baby giraffe walk to know it isn’t easy, but if that's your profession, you must at least try and look like you know what you are doing.
There was one model who was straight up limping, in the beginning my mates and I thought she was on some gangsta steez, but no, she was limping, eish – occupational hazard perhaps?
5. The way to get into any VIP area is to walk in there like you belong there…or just wait until there’s a mad dash by people that those manning the VIP entrance are so overwhelmed they let you in anyway :-)
Fascinating Rhythm: I was coerced into attending a Zumba dance class at one of Richard Branson’s gyms yesterday evening. Given my aversion to all things gym-related, I must say that I was impressed by the class. Lordy, I was gasping for my inhaler after an hour of gyrating suggestively, hopping around and channelling Janet Jackson’s “Rhythm Nation” dance moves – the trainer was a slave-driver.
Thankfully, I was also kept thoroughly entertained by watching the puzzled and intrigued faces of people walking past the class, especially when the gyrations became downright raunchy!
Spud’s Back: I picked up the 3rd instalment in John Van De Ruit’s “Spud” series called, “Spud - Learning to Fly.” It had me howling in laughter and shaking my head in disbelief. The book makes me nostalgic for boarding school as it reminds me of a time when having to evade the wrath of prefects and matrons, after being caught talking after lights-out, was one of my biggest concerns.
Even if you never went to boarding school, pick up a copy anyway, it won’t disappoint!
So Long, Farewell: As predicted Ella flat-lined on me over the weekend and now I am using a dodgy replacement that is so wack I am afraid to bring it out in public. It is so basic a phone it can only save 10 smses at a time, i can’t access internet on it and i can’t change the ring tone… why did Vodafone even bother making it?
The good news is that hunt for a new phone is now on, the bad news is that I won’t be joining the Berry wagon anytime soon coz the prices are just plain outrageous (I mean SERIOUSLY, it’s a phone, not a new kidney!). I am feeling more inclined to go with another Samsung model, after all, Ella did love me long-time.
Okay, let me summon the energy to prepare myself mentally for my return to work tomorrow, eeeek. Just when I was starting to get into this 4-day weekend routine!
Stay smiling chickens!