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A 30 something blogging about her love affair with Fashion.....among other things!

Friday, December 30, 2016

So long 2016!

2016 is coming to an end.

 For once, I could not wait for the year to end. 2016 was a hard year for me, a year of change. It started all bright and happy but by March, it all went downhill. We were forced to move back home. We had to live in a country we have not called home for more than 18 years. Our life was unstable and filled with uncertainties. Every day was a struggle to re adapt to the culture and way of life in Senegal. It was hard and stressful. There were days I felt like going home only to be reminded that this was now my new and only home. There were weeks I cried at the drop of a hat. There were nights I contemplated suicide or running away. If I had been a celebrity with millions in my bank account, I would have checked myself into a facility due to exhaustion. But I did not have that luxury. Besides, it is not about the physical exhaustion. That kind, you get over it by taking a nap. It is the mental exhaustion that takes a toll on you. You end up wandering if you are sane or just going mad .

Thankfully for me, I had a rock to hang on to: my FAMILY.


Scarf - M.G. road
Striped blazer - Gossip
Peplum top - so old, Walmart
Jeans - gift
Shoes - Forever21
Bag - Carrefour Dubai
Earrings - gift 
Studded Necklace - Clover Center 







 For years I lived away from my parents. When things got bad, which they did sometimes I would either call them and have them worry or prefer to not say anything and stay strong. As year passed, I stopped worrying them with my troubles because after all they were so far away. What could they do? But now that I am here, I rely heavily on them for anything. And they spoil me. For example, I would call my Dad asking him where he bought that yummy fish I ate at his place, and the next day he would deliver me fresh ones he got at the market early in the morning. My Mom would ask me what things I needed for my new house and get it all for me, even things I pretended having just to avoid her the burden. And my brothers are the shoulders I cry on, and the ears I rant about. They also always tell m the truth whether I want to hear it or not. It is to my family I run to after a bad interview, or a fight with the hubby. I do not even tell them that something is wrong but their presence heals me and gives m the strength I need to move on. Sometimes I even wonder how I could have lived without them. They spoil my children rotten and respect and appreciate my husband. And it is not only them, it is also the extended family: the in laws, the aunts and uncles, the cousins, the grandparents, the friends, everyone is extremely supportive.

Isn't this normal you may ask? Yes, it should be normal. Yet, I have lost that notion because for many years, I used to be on my own . Well, actually I had my husband and my two kids and no one else to rely on except from really good people I met abroad. Moreover, it is not always the case to have a supportive family. I know some folks with family that put them down instead of lifting them up. All the more reason for me not to take my family and my friends for granted. I just pray that God gives a long and healthy life to my parents. I need them around me for as long as eternity. And I pray God to give a successful and happy and long life to my brothers. I pray God to give them good wives and great kids that I will spoil in return. I pray God to give me the means to pay them back and make them all proud.I pray also for my extended family and for my friends, those I see and those I have not seen in years. I pray for you, who read me and enjoy my blog. I may not know you all but you are appreciated.   It is what I wish for 2017 and all the years that follow.

Happy new year!

Tuesday, December 13, 2016

I protest!

"Breathe in, breathe out!"

After a few frustrating months living in India, I had decided to not let outside influences affect me. I had decided to be Zen. I did fail a few times but overall I could control my emotions. Now I have to do the same in my own home country and it is not as easy.


I often said that India resembled my country in so many ways, negative and positive. The lack of service is one of those negatives. There is a rampant lack of service in Senegal in the public and private sector alike. People are slow to take care of you. Also, some of them are basically incompetent. But what I hate the most is that they do their work with the utmost poor attitude. They never smile and they are rude. Take this case: I had to buy a SIM card from a telephone company. I went with my husband to their store and waited for our turn . The lady who served us did not smile, barely greeted us and to top it all, she could not even set up my phone. She just gave up and return it. FYI, I set it up easily once I was back home. I was so outraged by her behavior that I was about to tell her that if she did not want to be there, she should just quit.


The reason for this lack of service, at least according to my dad, is that most people in Senegal are too proud to serve people. They all want to be the boss and bark orders. They all think that providing a service is beneath them like that waitress at a popular restaurant who waits for you to signal to her instead of coming to you and asking you what you want. Or that clerk at the bank that looks down on you and cannot believe you have that big amount of money in your bank account.
But everyone cannot be the boss.

What frustrates me the most about this problem is that once you complain to people who have been living here their entire life, they all tell you to be patient. They all agree that this is the way things are in Senegal and one should just bear it all. It is like they gave up. I feel like shouting to them "Wake up! This is not how things should be! Why accept it all?"

No! We have to do something to change it all.


Scarf and dress fabric - Shivaji market
Dress- Custom made
Bag - Pratunam market
Shoes - Custom made
Ring - old H&M
Earrings - Chandan nagar market


How? You may ask?


First, through education. We should educate people at school but also train them once they start working. In Japan, new employees will be trained on work etiquette for weeks before starting their real work. And some companies in retail or other services go so far as to repeat that training every morning before they open doors. Why don't we do the same here? And why don't we check employees to see if they are following the basic rules?


Another solution is to protest. Nowadays with social media it is way easier to protest and denounce than back in the days. A simple post on Facebook tagging the business that is poor can inform people but more importantly push the business in question to do something. It works like a charm in the US or Europe. But that does not mean it cannot work here as well. Anyway what do we have to lose to try?
Plus as a consumers, we have the power. The power to say to a business if you do not improve, I am not giving you my hard earn money. That is what I do. Once I am treated poorly at a place, chances are I will never set foot there again. This may limit my choices but it may give me a chance to discover new places that will treat me better.



Some of you will be very skeptical. What can we, common people, do against big companies like Orange who have the monopoly. My answer is: keep trying. Orange was the only phone company in Senegal for the longest time, which made it entitled and lazy. And what happens to companies like that? In the end, they lose steam and clients. Soon, they won't be the big boss anymore. Let us just keep on protesting. And I know people who already started to do something on social media. You can find many groups where people denounce companies with poor service.


The Bun!

All I am trying to say is that let us not accept this situation any longer. Let us take measures, actions that guarantees things will change. If not in our time, at least in our kids. But first of all, we need to change the way we think. I am sure people will critique me by saying that I am a Toubab (White person) for thinking the way I do. But in response, I think that Senegalese people have to start embedding in their minds that being like a Toubab is not always a bad thing. What is wrong with being on time at meetings? What is wrong with being courteous to another person? What is wrong with giving ones word and keeping it? What is wrong with providing a service with care and efficiency? How can anyone expect to do business without these values and be successful?



Camouflage Boston bag! 
Now, I just need a pair of camouflage stilettos to match!


I had these custom made modeled on my fave Indian chappals. 
  And you wonder why we are still a developing country!

Wednesday, November 16, 2016

To Japan and back in a day!

Recently, I got to attend  a lunch hosted by the Ambassador of Japan in Senegal. He invited all the former Japanese government scholarship recipients who are now residing in Senegal in order to see if we could lend a hand in improving cooperation between the two countries.

I attended with the hubby and got to meet all the people I spent time with when I was studying in Japan. I had kept in touch with some over the years through Facebook mostly but other I have not seen in 16 years. It was such a pleasure to get to see them and talk. And when I got to talk to do that, I realized that they all have great jobs working for themselves or for a company. I was sitting in a room full of people with brains and smarts, and it gave me a chill to think about all the potential. It brings to my husband and I hope that we also can be successful in our own country.

Moreover I got to directly talk to the Ambassador. He seems to be a man of great poise. He took the time to talk to each and everyone of us about our journey in Japan but also about what we did after we graduated. He seems to be eager to use us to promote Japan better. However I have the feeling he does not quite know how yet. Nevertheless it was great to sit at his table in his beautiful yet simply decorated house, eating Japanese food.

But You are not here to read me brag about my day, you are just interested in what I wore.

When I heard about the event, I was dead set on wearing my new "Taille Basse" (kind of a "traditional" peplum top with wrap around skirt outfit that has been trending back home) that I had worn for Eid. But the hubby found the outfit too flashy. (what does he know anyway?) Since I am a good wife, I listened and went to look for something less flashy and more suitable for the occasion. Three days before the lunch, I had found this lovely red and black printed midi dress in my closet. I styled it and although I found it to be too red, I was still happy about my choice. I took pictures and sent them to my family to get their approval. Everyone was OK with it except my Baby brother who found the outfit to be quite old.  I defended it, but the more I did, the more I started to dislike my choice (thanks Bro!). In the end, I opted for something else:


Scarf - Lakshmi road market
Open Kimono - Forever 21
Bodysuit - H&M
Pleated skirt - Forever 21
Bag - M.G. road
Shoes - Next
Watch - Gifted
Necklace - Charming Charlie


As usual I went for comfort even though the heels of my pumps were super high. I was grateful I did not have to walk to the event. But the skirt was perfect. I felt at ease and I could concentrate on talking to people instead of worrying about whether I was wearing something  appropriate or not. Seeing the other invited ladies rocking something a bit similar to my outfit also helped. However, next time (if ever there is a next time), I am wearing something traditional no matter what the hubby says.




If you are wondering what might be appropriate to wear at a lunch or event at an Embassy, read my post about it here.




Tuesday, October 18, 2016

Keeping up with the Diops*!

*Diop is a common family name in Senegal.

Being back in my home town of Dakar, there are few things that I started to notice. One of them is that Dakar became a big construction site with houses, buildings, roads and so on. Moreover, every single lot is taken, even in the remote places where people did not want to initially live in. At this rate, I am afraid that in the future my kids will not be able to purchase a house, let alone a lot in this small town. On top of that, Dakar is saturated. There is traffic almost everywhere, people are jammed in small apartments, and need to go outside to have a little air in this heat. Markets are so crowded, that they surpass their normal areas and come all the way to residential areas. Sometimes I feel like I live in Bombay or Tokyo. It can make one feel very claustrophobic.
But one phenomenon that has hit me the first weeks since our return is the luxury that people wrap themselves around in this city. For a developing country, there are many 3 story splendid houses, luxury cars and Senegalese Haute couture dresses. Driving around town, I saw more Range Rovers than I have seen in my entire life. Matter of fact, if you sit in traffic long enough, you can see that one out of four cars is a Range rover or another type of SUV (Believe me I checked). Even if they are used cars, they must have cost a fortune. Back in the 90s and the beginning of the millennium, only ministers and celebrities drove SUV around. Now, it seems anyone can afford them.



Scarf - Dmart
Kimono - old, Forever 21
Dress - Sandaga market
Bag - Carrefour, Dubai
Shoes - Westside, Pune 
Bracelet - thrifted

Furthermore, dressing up has gone to a whole new level with fabrics and tailoring prices skyrocketing around town (I should not really complain about it, because I am taking advantage of the system with my own business) . A beautiful fabric may set you back to $20 the yard. Considering that you may need 6 of them to have a decent traditional Senegalese dress, it will cost you. Then, you will have to pay a tailor/designer a small fortune to turn that fabric into a beautiful masterpiece. If you need that dress for an event, you will also have to purchase a matching clutch and shoes, jewelry and let us not forget the Brazilian or Indian hair to look super gorgeous. Because no one wants to be caught dead wearing the same thing twice.
Finally, people living in Dakar or at least the ones I know, like to have a fancy lifestyle of brunching in hotels, after work diner in restaurants, pool party during the summer, and week end getaway out of the city in rented houses. I once tried enjoying a drink with my best friend in a hotel, but we were stuck drinking mineral water because we thought the drinks were overpriced. When I complained about it to my baby brother, he told me that there were more expensive places around town that were always packed. I do not mind going out at all but not when the tab makes my accountant cringe (I am my own accountant, by the way).



With all that, I often hear around town that there is no money in the country. Every time, I am shocked. Like how with all see around, there is no money? “People have problems” is what I get as answers “but they hide it well”. And by hiding it, they mean they are covered in debt. They borrow from family, from friends, from banks to afford such a lifestyle. Let me give you an example. I have been selling fabrics and other items of closing for years. I can frankly count the number of times I was paid cash for them. Usually people pay me in three months time. I even have some people who never paid me. They took the item and disappear. I can call them to remind them, but either they shamefully complain of having problems or they shamelessly accuse me of being too greedy. Needless to say that I will not sell them things again. And I am not the only one who suffers from this. Anyone who sells stuff as a side business in this country has been a victim. I remember how I was when I had a credit card. I would go crazy shopping and then dreading the day I had to pay. It became so bad that I decided to cut the card and be free (even if that meant I could no longer enjoy online shopping). To this day, people propose me items of clothing that I find absolutely gorgeous but if I do not have the money, I will not buy them. That is why it is hard for me to understand how can people just go about their lives covered in debts.
However, it is very comprehensible. Dakar has become a city of consumption. We are much like the Americans, the Chinese, the Indians. When we want something, we have to get it no matter what. We also have become a society of instant gratification. We need everything, right now. There is no need to wait for it, or even work for it. We want the luxury house, the fancy car and the nice clothes right away. And we cannot stand when someone around us is dressing up better than us. We got to show them. It does not matter if that person probably has a higher salary than us. It does not matter if we have red in our ledgers. All that matters is to be seen. It is commonly called “throwing acid” on someone.




As for myself, people are always on my case to become like them. It always start with a
-“Why don't you dress up better?”
- “Jeez! I wish I could but I cannot afford it with your prices!” I usually clap back.
For me, dressing up is very important but I also know life is not about the clothes I wear. Besides, I cannot spend money I do not have on things I probably do not need, to give a fake image of myself. I am superficial, but not that shallow. I want things in life and believe me if GOD grant me a job with a good salary, I will work to make my dreams come true. Then, and only then will I “throw acid” on people.


Tuesday, September 20, 2016

Networking

Hello there!

I am sorry that I have not been steadily blogging in the past months. It is hard to find the time in my new life and the lack of Wi-FI is not helping as well. But I am getting there.

Today, I would like to talk about Networking.

  Now that we have almost settled back home and that the kids are back to school, it is time to concentrate on finding a job. I have not really worked since 2009. I have never worked back home either. Therefore, you can understand that I am dreading the hob hunting process. I have been responding to ads here and there but so far no answers. It may be so because I have not been networking.

In Senegal, everything works with connections. I have been told that if I wanted to even get a foot inside the door of any company, I needed to know at least one person working there.You need to know someone, who knows someone to get something. There is no need to send resumes and respond to ads because no one will even read them. All I need is a good connection. And unfortunately for me, I lack of connections.

Strike that! I have several connections. I know people who are also very well connected whether in private companies or even in the government from my close knit family, to the extended ones, and let us not forget about former classmates and friends. But I do not use them. My mother has been on my case for weeks, even going so far as the send my resume to her former boss. She sees my reluctance to use connections as laziness or lack of enthusiasm.




Blazer - (so old) market in Seoul
Silk camisole - gift from my mother in law
Skirt and Clutch - thrifted (Don don dowm, Japan)
Shoes - Much More
Wacth - gift from Hubby
Ring - Old birthday gift



Is this look professional enough for networking?



Probably not with this attitude!





Details!

In truth, I am someone who does not like to use that strategy. I hate networking for two reasons:

- the person you call to ask for a favor can think that you only approach her for that. It can be really bad if it is a family member you never approached before.

- the second reason is that I hate to owe anything to anyone. I want to make it on my own, however crazy that is.

But sadly for me, I have been trying here and there for some months now and nothing has really worked. I am thinking that I have no choice but to network. Call former classmates, visit aunties and uncles, even my younger cousins who know the marketplace. They can all help and some of them even started to. Besides, no one in this world ever made it alone, so I need to swallow whatever pride I have and dial the phone.

What about you? Do you network?

Monday, August 8, 2016

What do you wear when you meet the POTUS?

Did I tell you about the time I met Bill Clinton?

I am not sure of the date but it was in late March, early April 1998. Bill Clinton as president of the United States came to visit my country Sénégal. He was also to visit Goree Island, an historic site where my boarding school was ( and still is) located. We, as students were supposed to welcome him by singing the Senegalese national anthem while some other students from the Kennedy middle and high school (which is a Senegalese school would sing the American national anthem. As students and teenagers we were so excited because we considered Bill to be a cool president. We were on Easter break but we still came back to the Island to rehearse hard with our music teacher even if singing the National anthem (that we knew by heart since Elementary school) was a no brainer. But everything had to be perfect because we were representing our country to the world ( we knew that all cameras would be turned on us at that moment).

The day before Bill was to come we were sent home with the request to be on time at the port the following day ( our school was on an Island so we had to take a small boat to get there) but also to wear jeans and tees. It was the official dress code that the Music teacher decided.

 But my Mother was having none of it. She could not conceive the fact that I had to wear jeans to greet the President of the United States. She was like:" Jeans? To meet Bill Clinton? Are you mad?". She must have thought that I was joking.  This was during what she called my rebellious teenager days, during which I liked  to wear jeans instead of the cute floral dresses she had made for me. What she did not know was that I was not comfortable in my own skin to rock those dresses and preferred jeans that hid all my curves. Nevertheless, she did not allow me to wear the jeans. Instead she dug out a peach pink tunic dress and some sleek black pants for me to wear. I was furious but what could I do? And the more I thought about it, the more it made sense to me. You simply did not wear jeans to meet the  President.

The following day, I went to school with my classy and sophisticated outfit, my hair all sleek  in a bun my Mom helped me with. But upon arriving at the port, I saw a sea of jeans and tees and started to panic. All.my classmates asked me why I was wearing a dress. I told them why, but tried to shrug the unease off. When my Music teacher saw me at the morning rehearsal before Bill Clinton arrived, he was so disapproving. He also asked me why I defied him by wearing something else. And I had to explain myself all over again. He was not happy and as a result, he sent me to stand in the back of the group while previously I was situated in the front row of the choir. I was so mad. I could have cursed my Mother ( maybe I did). All my friends were wearing their tees and jeans while I stood there awkwardly with my pink dress.



Scarf - MG road
Denim Jacket - Just brands
Dress - Sandaga market
Shoes - Westside
Accessories - Clover center

When Bill arrived, there was such a frenzy. Everyone wanted a piece of him. Everyone was in awe with him. But we were told to remain calm. We performed our anthem with such pride and glee. We were perfect. The girls from Kennedy high school, however butchered the American national anthem. It was a bit pathetic to see. But Bill seemed pleased. My Music teacher was beaming and he even managed to give Bill a brooch in the shape of a saxophone. He was in 7th heaven. Bill Clinton did not stay long. He made his speech, listen to others from the Senegalese delegation and moved on to visit the Slaves House which was the real reason behind his visit to the Island, but not before he greeted all my classmates on the front row of the choir. They were overjoyed and squealed like the school girls they were. As for myself, stuck on the last row, I could not have reached Bill Clinton even if I wanted to. Between my screaming classmates and the secret service assigned to protect him, it was a lost cause. We hanged back while Bill Clinton visited the Island then returned to the city. During that time, some of my classmates were interviewed by International news channels like CNN. Some even went as far as to hit on some yummy White House correspondents. I was outraged.




Later that night, when they showed recaps of Bill Clinton's visit on TV( and after failing on seeing myself on TV), I became sad. I did not touch Bill Clinton, I did not get to tell him that I thought he was a great president ( although I did not know much about his work to be honest). I was also upset that I did not get to be on TV, national or international like some of my friends all because my Mom thought it was outrageous to wear jeans to see the President.

To this day, I do not think I got to tell my Mom how mad and sad I was at what she made me do. I hold her responsible for it all. But truly how could I? Is it really that important to be able to touch Bill Clinton? The guy was at that time one of the most influential person on earth but he was also a renown cheater (something I highly disapprove of). Had I touch him, would my life change in any way? I do not think so. Even appearing on TV would not have made any difference at all. Except that instead of writing a blog about the time I could not shake hands with Bill Clinton, I would have written about how probably soft his hands were.





Now when I think of the entire thing, I cannot help but laugh. And I also pray that one day I get to meet Obama and his lovely wife Michelle (as the actual president or not). That is a presidential couple worth meeting in my book ( no shades to Bill and Hillary). And when I get this chance, I still hope I will be in a fancy dress because as much as I love my jeans, my Mother is right: they are highly inappropriate to wear to meet the President.

Saturday, July 23, 2016

Privacy request!


Hi! It has been two months now since we moved back in my home country. It has been hard. I am tired, stressed, worried, frustrated. But it was all to be expected. What gets me the most is the lack of privacy. I used to be by my own half of my days when my husband worked and the kids were at school. I used to take my breakfast alone and then proceed on different tasks for me or my family depending on the days. I used to take walks, go sight seeing or window shopping by myself. I used to blog, or sew. I enjoyed being on my own.




Scarf - stolen from my Mom
Shirt - F.C. road
Top - 390 Mart
Pants - Dmart
Shoes - M.G. road
Bag - gift from Hubby
Hair pin - Chandan Nagar market
Earrings - gift
Necklace and Mickey Mouse ring - Clover center





But in Senegal, it is very hard to be by yourself unless you live in a very remote place. And even then, people will hunt you down to be with you. People live in community. People do things in community. We cook together, we eat together. We cannot even phantom the idea of going to a party alone. Basically, there is no such thing as being an individual. And I miss that. A small moment for me to do nothing but just breathe and be myself. But you cannot really have that in here. That would hurt feelings. People will start wondering if there is something wrong with you. Or worse, if they did something to offend you. And to keep the peace, you go along with what everybody is doing.





In Senegal, there is no such thing as doing whatever you want either. Before taking any decision, you have to consult your parents, your family even if you are an adult. It is expected for us who lived abroad for so long and are not used to the Sénégalese ways. We need to get informed. However, even people who spent their entire life here still do it. You consult your parents, an uncle, a boss, a spiritual guide before doing anything. I am not used to that. For most part of my adulthood, I used to take my own decision. Once I got  married, I would ask my husband but even then I did my own thing and inform everyone later. But now I am forced to take a step back and consult, or listen to people offer you advice, which most of the time is not relevant. I know they do it because they have good intentions yet it gets on my nerve. I have been on my own doing my own thing for a long time now. I messed up more than once and there was no one to help me out.  And in the end, I learned to depend on myself. And guess what? I am still here. I did not die or drown. I survived therefore people should trust me to be able to do the same here.






But, I guess it is one other thing I will have to get over with. 



Wednesday, June 22, 2016

Wrapped Burrito

I may have mentioned it once or twice on the blog before but my mother in law is a designer. She designs and sells clothes. It is at a small scale right now but she hopes to grow. One of the advantage of having a fashion designer in the family is free ( or almost  free) clothes. Every time we come on vacations, the entire family get to sample her latest design. It is usually ethnic wear therefore we get to showcase them for religious or family events.

Recently, I was given yet another garb. It was a salmon pink linen tunic dress with orange accents and white embroidery at the collar and waist. The dress was a bit long and large but I did like the fabric and the simple design. However I gave it to her tailor to alter it a bit. What came out of his machine was this:




Scarf - Dmart
Tunic - gift
Leggings - M.G. road
Shoes - Westside
Ring - M.G. road

Truth be told, I am not happy that the tailor shorten the length and tighten the dress. However I have to admit that I did ask for it. But I just wanted it altered a bit. As a result now the dress is tight. Too tight for my taste. You know, I am a not a fan of tight outfits. I like my clothes oversized.


Despite all of that, I have to admit that the tunic is growing on me, never mind that it is actually unflattering at the waist ( I just need to lose some baby fat). And the look my husband gave me once I wore it made me like it even more. He even said that I looked like a wrapped burrito but in a good way. (Whatever that is!). I think if I lose a few inches around the waist, I might give the fitted dress trend a try.



What do you think?


Wednesday, May 4, 2016

When Middle East meets South East (Saree Party 3)

Hi Dears!

Back in March, I attended another Saree party.

I was lucky this time because while fabric shopping back January, I spotted a half stitched Lehenga and Pallu set in red gold green and orange colors. It was half off so I did not hesitate to purchase it. When I heard of the Saree party, I returned to the same shop to get a fabric for a blouse. I settled for a golden orange one that would match the rest of the outfit perfectly.


I wanted to make a cropped blouse with a ruffle hem because I became so obsessed with them. They seemed easy enough to try and after watching numerous videos on YouTube,  I started making the blouse. As usual, I underestimated the time it would take me to make the blouse. It took me two full days and I was not even satisfied with the end resuslt. And to add insult to injury, when I wore it on d-day, there was a tear on one of the sleeves. I wanted to scream and cry!

But since I had no time at all (the event was already starting) I dug a dress my Father bought me in Saudi. And off I went.



Scarf - old
Dress or Abbaya - gift from my father
Lehenga or Gagra (skirt) and scarf - fabric shop in Camp
Shoes - Gossip
Hair Accessories and earrings - -Chandan Nagar market
Necklace - gift from Hubby
Rings - Fidak fair, Dakar

The dress which is more like a jacket with a small opening at the front, is in a different shade from my Lehenga or Gagra ( skirt) but the sequins matched perfectly. It was a style I had wanted to try ever since I saw it on Indian celebrities. And truth be told it is a style that suits me more as I do not have to expose any skin. Unless I (eventually) make myself a long sleeves fitted blouse that come all the way to my waist, I think I am going to stick to this style when it comes to Indian wear.



 As accessories, I wore some earrings and golden headband thingy that I purchased a day before the event for a steal at the market. Funny thing is, I already had in mind what kind of jewelry I wanted to buy as soon as I got invited. But when I went to get it at the last minute, the store had closed or relocated. It proves to show that planning goes a long way even for a fun event. Anyway, I was OK with the accessories even if wearing the headband with the scarf proved to be a hassle.


The earrings


My golden slingback high heels which were surprisingly comfortable.

The Saree party was once again held at Le Meridien hotel. And once again our hosts took myriad of pictures. I went with my Korean friend but I made new acquaintances during the lunch. Pune is not such a big city, therefore most of the Expats living here know each other or have a sixth degree separation. The buffet was exquisite and I binged on seafood, which I do not often eat. And finished off with some ice cream, red velvet cake and chocolate mousse. Since it was Women's day, we also received some cookies from the hotel management.


My dessert: Cappuccino ...


chocolate mousse and red velvet cake

I went home full, happy but exhausted. I realized that the best part about a party was going home, kicking off my heels, removing my make up, undressing, and seating in my comfy PJs with my phone in hand checking all the pictures I took earlier.



All shades, sizes, and Indian wear were represented!



With my friend, stylist, photographer and wing woman, Soon!

Unfortunately this was my last Saree party. We left India and moved back home some weeks later. Funnily enough I was jokingly saying during the lunch that this was probably my last party since they were starting to get expensive with the purchasing of sarees, blings that go with them and the cost of the lunch. Little did I know that God was going to play a trick on me. 

Anyway, I have no regrets. I went to three amazing parties and met great women. I had the time of my life and for someone who does not get out much, I could even dress up. Now I have all these memories in form of pictures that will keep me warm on rainy days. And who knows, if ever I find people as crazy about sarees as me, I can start organizing my own Saree party! 

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