February 01, 2008
Model Minority Realized
Back in October I posted Kenneth Cole’s casting call for Sikh models. Just yesterday my brother-in-law texted me with a photo of the ad which covers the entire storefront of their 5th Ave flagship store, so the model is almost 20 feet tall. The model in the ad is Sonny Caberwal, a Duke and Georgetown Law grad who runs Tavalon, a high-end hipster tea “lounge” whose opening we covered earlier. Both the ad and the video below are from the Kenneth Cole website.
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Here’s the blurb for the ad campaign:
Kenneth Cole, one of the world’s leading fashion designers, has launched a worldwide campaign to mark the brand’s 25th anniversary. The focus of his ad campaign is that “we all walk in different shoes”. [Link]
Most of the reaction to it in the Sikh blogosphere has been … well, positively gleeful (chortle, kvell, rejoicing). The one hesitant note comes from the new Sikh group blog The Langar Hall which wonders:
Something else makes me uncomfortable about this ad. Is something that’s supposed to be a symbol of high ideals, if not sacred itself (a sardar’s appearance), being commodified? If it is, is it inevitable that everything will one day be commodified?… [Link]
To Reema, I reply - ooooh baby, exotify me, commodify me. I can handle it 
. [And actually, as somebody who has been photographed a fair amount for similar reasons, I will admit it gets weird at times, but c’mon, doesn’t Sonny look fly 20 feet tall in Rockefeller Center?]
ennis at 08:19 PM in Arts and Entertainment, Beauty, Religion · 59 comment(s) · Direct link
September 24, 2007
We wuz robbed!
In response to Abhi’s appeal from last year, there was a desi entrant in this year’s World Beard & Moustache Championships. Meet 30 year old Rundeep Singh, from the UK.
Can you believe Rundeep lost to Jack Passion (on the right) who took first place in the “natural beard” category? C’mon now - which is the better beard? What an outrageous call!
Heck, Rundeep Singh didn’t even place - this guy got second (for what is admittedly a very impressive beard) but this guy got third place. I dunno - neither the first nor third place winners seem as impressive to me as brother Rundeep.
What gives? Next time I want to see a desi who wins by more than a whisker .
ennis at 12:19 AM in Beauty, Humor, Sports · 20 comment(s) · Direct link
July 19, 2007
We Know Maths, Medicine AND Brows!
Like all lal-blooded desi girls, I’m mildly obsessed with eyebrows.
Like all lal-blooded GIRLS, I’m mildly obsessed with celeb gossip.
Occasionally, the two, they meet.
It is possible that many of you saw photographs of Sienna Miller on the red carpet (there she is! on the right!), doing her damnedest to bring dark and furry back. Well, ABC News was inspired by her “caterpillars”; they have an entire article about what brows signify and the expert whom they quote is none other than Vaishaly Patel, “London’s eyebrow shaper to the stars”.
Vaishaly’s opinion on Sienna’s dark statement?
“Personally I think they look hideous…When you’ve got blond hair the number one rule is not to have black eyebrows. I think they’re a lovely shape but just on the wrong person.”
So, there is a right person.
Take heart, my brown sisters— YOU are that right person!
Bushy is back as far as eyebrows are concerned. So, poor Sienna was just trying to follow fashion. It’s just that not every fashion suits everyone.
Ah, for once, we (and by we, I mean you) win.
For this apparently lowbrow issue, there’s some highbrow analysis. Eyebrows tell a story of cultures, eras and politics. For example, in Iran “un-groomed” is a sign of virginity. The Mexican artist Frida Kahlo sported a unibrow. It became her signature, an expression of independence and feminist strength.
No comment on what brows meant to Bert, and that’s unfortunate.
There is plenty of history-lite, however, including an exploration of whether certain decades inspired severe arches or fierce tufts. Here’s a summary:
-1940s-50s: Eyebrows are shaved off completely, lest a girl seem “masculine”. Owwww.
-1960s: Girls who are boys, who like boys to be girls, who do boys like they’re girls, who do girls like they’re boys— always should be someone you reeeeally love. Free love = furriness.
-1980s: Yuppies are mean and therefore, women over-tweeze. The end.
-Today: Sensitive and enlightened are we. Pluck we do not.
There’s a backlash against the over-plucked brow, according to Jaimineey Patel, manager of a Blink Eyebrow Bar in London. Patel and a phalanx of eyebrow “threaders” are in the trenches, persuading clients to grow back their brows before they gently shape them with twisted thread held between their teeth.
“We always do a thorough consultation,” explained Patel. “We ask them what they want out of their eyebrows.” What can you want from an eyebrow? More than function, apparently. More than a sponge effect to keep sweat out of your eyes.
We want to be as pretty as can be, DUH.
Apparently they frame your face. “To be honest,” confided Patel. “A lot of clients feel they’ve had a facelift because it opens your eyes out.”
I don’t know about a facelift, but I saw someone get their brows done for the first time this weekend, and suddenly, I was aware of the rare color of their irises AND their ridonkulous lashes. Yowza. Best $25 they ever spent, yindeed.
Eyebrows are the new window on the soul. So be careful Sienna, those caterpillars may reveal more than you want us to know.
New?! Not. Desis have known that truth all along. As for Sienna’s caterpillars, like Madonna and Gwen before her, the girl just wants to be down with the brown, obviously.
anna at 07:21 PM in Beauty, Fashion, Humor · 69 comment(s) · Direct link
May 14, 2007
It's Hard Out Here for a Pimp (UPDATED w/ outcome)
You might not believe this, but we’re not really a vain bunch here at the mutiny. There’s barely a single full length mirror in the entire bunker, and it’s hard for me to move Rajni the monkey (who loves to watch herself preen) away when I need to tie my turban in the morning. We’re quite bashful really, and say awwww shucks a lot, as befits people of our rank and station in life.
This would explain why blogger Vinod failed to tell the rest of us about his latest honor (Thanks Manish!). Vinod was nominated for “The Bay Area’s Most Eligible Bachelor Contest” !!!!
We’re not asking for your votes, Sanjaya fans, they closed the polls on Friday. Instead, we’re asking you to collectively hold your breath until the winner is announced at some point tomorrow. If he wins, our very own man meat mutineer will receive an invitation to participate in the Guardsmen Bachelor Auction on May 17. That’s right … if we’re lucky, Vinod could be auctioned off to the highest bidder, thus demonstrating his strong belief in the efficiency of the market.
Just one complaint, yaaar. Whoever pimped you out used this photo when I think that this photo shows your good side. And if you win, remember, I’ve got dibs on one of the two VIP tickets and the pimp costume. A man has to look his best …
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How much would you pay? |
p.s. love the goodie bag:
The Winner of the Bay Area’s Most Eligible Bachelor contest receives … A goodie bag stuffed with lux items, including Teeth Whitening from Serenity Dental Spa, Botox by Dr. Michael Macdonald, 2 tickets to Monte Carlo Night donated by Coit Staffing, Interior Design Consultation by Katharina Wohl Designs, Hair-cut and Style provided by Nikas at 77 Maiden Lane Salon & Spa, event photography service by TheAList.org, and more. [Link]
Although it beggars the mind to think so, the winner of this round was not our every own Vinod, but instead somebody named Matt Harris who isn’t nearly half as debonair, dashing or geeky:
Matt is 30 years old and lives in Russian Hill in San Francisco. “He’s one of the most kind, funny, caring, intelligent people I’ve met,” writes Trudi Loscotoff. He works for Conde Nast in San Francisco as an Advertising Sales Manager for Details Magazine. He has a 3 pound Yorkshire Terrier named Scout. They are both house trained, well mannered and always down for adventure. Matt loves to cook, and is looking for a funny woman who likes to stay in and drink wine. [Link]
[The outcome was rigged! Rigged I tell you! Vinod was robbed! First Al Gore and now Vinod!]
Vinod, remember, you’re always number 1 in our hearts, no matter what other people say. We’d be happy to turn you out auction you off any time you want.
ennis at 05:51 PM in Beauty, Events, Humor, Profiles · 30 comment(s) · Direct link
May 03, 2007
Paging Mango Pickle...I Need Mango Pickle.
[NB: Men, small children and intellectuals- pretend to look elsewhere and feign a lack of interest, even though I know you’re going to read every esoteric word.]
Well-maintained humans, I have a problem.
I hate my tweezers.
I have every right to, they came in one of those awful pre-filled manicure kits that no one deserves to receive for Chrismukkah, no matter how evil they’ve been. I have been able to “get by” because I only used them once in a while. That’s why I never really noticed how worthless they are. How is this possible, you wonder incredulously? I have a shameful secret which is so hideous, none dare to believe it once it is revealed.
I have no eyebrows.
No, I didn’t over-tweeze like we all did when we were eleven. I didn’t lose them in an unfortunate smelting accident, nor did I singe them off while learning how to use that stove thingy with the…fire…and stuff. Uh-huh, I was born with no eyebrows, courtesy of my dear Father’s genetics, though considering everything else he gave me, I guess I’d be an ungrateful little shit if I dwell on this for too long.
My father had sparse eyebrows but he also started to grey at 30, so by the time I could even notice his brows, he was in his early 40s. Bare as they were, white hair on dark brown skin is ultra-obvious, so he wasn’t affected by his browlessness. I on the other hand, have had my chin grabbed and my face ruthlessly examined by Auntie after Auntie, who if I’m lucky, muttered something about how I once looked a bit like Hema Malini before I got all black and if I’m REALLY lucky…well, they declare something about how a face is useless unless the eyes are beautiful and the eyes, they are the worthless as the Manolo would say, without the brows. “Sho! Kashtam. No wonder you aren’t married.”
So I haven’t had to use tweezers all that much and whenever I did, I’d just borrow my Mom’s because hers worked. But now…I don’t know if mine have gone dull or if my hand-eye coordination is poo; they don’t grip a thing. I just can’t see the point of getting my brows “done”, not when they barely grow in the first place. In the picture you see above, which was taken during the only trip to Devon Avenue I’ve ever made, I got threaded.
Why? I was caught up in the brownosity of it all; Devon Avenue seemed way more desi than University Avenue, though it wasn’t quite Jackson Heights. After buying a new sari and bangles, eating fantastic chaat and drinking far too much good stuff, I wanted to experience the only part of the street I hadn’t thus far— the beauty parlors. Much like the first time my awe-stricken kundi trudged through Queens, I was amazed at the fact that there were salons that were staffed with and served just desis; as a righteous and deprived thenga, I found such a concept inconceivable.
So, in I went and when I requested getting my brows threaded, the woman pointedly asked, “Why?”. “Please,” I implored “I have to go to an engagement in two hours!” and she shrugged. After all, an idiot and her rupees are soon threaded. And a few seconds after this shot was taken, she stood back and announced, “done!”
I had felt a little something and noticed no discernable difference, but I was tickled anyway. Threaded! I got threaded! I finally, fleetingly felt at one with the South Asian “experience”.
So, unless it’s an adventure in beauty like that was, I’m not getting my brows done and that is why I need new tweezers. Now quit holding out on me— what do YOU use? Share your wisdom, so that other clueless fur balls will find it when they google this embarrassing topic in the years to come. ;)
anna at 08:00 PM in Beauty, Fashion, Humor · 136 comment(s) · Direct link
April 30, 2007
Skin deep
Last week I was standing in a bookstore, looking for something trashy and utterly mindless to buy. I picked up Deborah Rodriguez’s “Kabul Beauty School: An American Woman Goes Behind the Veil.” and read the first chapter, which was around all I could handle.
I realize that I was far from the target audience for such a book. I’ve never had a haircut in my life, and I’ve never been to a spa. I’m not a very sympathetic audience for stories about how the women of Kabul felt better inside because they felt more glamorous outside (well, inside their burkas). Furthermore, I am a guy, and this was a tremendously girly book:
When Deborah Rodriguez arrived in Kabul in 2002 as part of a charitable aid mission, what she saw appalled her… It was a land of bad haircuts, poorly applied makeup and no styling gel. To Rodriguez, a Michigan hairdresser with a can-do attitude, task No. 1 was obvious: get these poor people some beauty salons. [Link]
Despite my lack of personal experience with the topic, I was willing to suspend disbelief and work with the book’s basic premise, namely:
…hairdressing … is one of the few truly viable options for would-be female Afghan entrepreneurs. There’s a huge demand for such services, as many Afghan women sport elaborate hair and makeup styles under their burqas. At the same time, it’s work that can be done entirely in female company - a necessity in a segregated society. [Link]
My problem was not the subject but the condescending tone of the book. It was “City of Joy” meets “Steel Magnolias,” the usual story of somebody in the first world who finds their calling “helping” people in the third world, where the only purpose of the poor and unfortunate is to serve as a backdrop to the protagonist’s journey.
For example, the opening chapter tells of “Roshanna,” a friend who had been raped and thus was no longer a virgin. Roshanna was terrified of her wedding night, when eager crowds await a bloody rag — the telltale sign of virginity.
Ms. Rodriguez sprung into action, whipping out nail clippers, cutting her finger, dripping blood on a handkerchief and instructing Roshanna to place it under a cushion. When the time came, she could swap it with another one. The next morning, she writes: “When I rush into the hallway, I see that Roshanna’s mother is wailing for joy. ‘Virgin!’ she shouts at me triumphantly, waving the handkerchief stained with my blood. ‘Virgin!’ “… [Link]
C’mon now. Afghan women have never figured out how to fool their husbands with chicken blood after thousands of years? It took a spunky hairdresser from Michigan with a can do attitude to come up with this? Roshanna’s mother didn’t help her, and was even fooled by the simple deception? As if!
What’s more, the story in the first chapter and what I skimmed in the rest of the book felt … fake. Others who were there feel the same way and are raising questions about the veracity of the accounts in the book:
… the women believe that the discrepancies are too vast to call the book a memoir. They even question whether the stories Ms. Rodriguez tells about Afghan women — disturbing, heartbreaking tales of abuse — are real… [Link]
Another reason why I distrusted the author was because I had heard of this beauty school before, but in a different context. There had been a documentary called “The Beauty Academy of Kabul” about the same school, which was not founded by Ms. Rodriguez (as the press release for the book and most of the reviews claim), but instead had been taken over by her instead. The other women involved with the project are quite bitter about this:
The idea came from Mary MacMakin, an American who had lived in Afghanistan for more than 25 years, who was the subject of a March 2001 Vogue article. Ms. MacMakin, now 78, suggested to Terri Grauel, the stylist on the photo shoot, that learning hairdressing and makeup techniques would help Afghan women gain financial independence and self-esteem. Ms. Grauel enlisted the help of Ms. O’Connor, a beauty industry consultant, and together they rallied Vogue, Clairol, MAC Cosmetics and others, collecting mascaras, lipsticks, dyes and shampoos. Eventually, they hoped to take the program, which they called Beauty Without Borders, to women around the world. With donations, they erected a building at the Afghan Women’s Ministry…
… They say that, instead of being its savior, as she [Rodriguez] represents, she plotted to move the school from the Women’s Ministry to the house she shares with her Afghan/Uzbek husband, Sher (called Sam in the book). And, they said, she did it for personal gain. [Link]
Neither her publisher nor her agent seem too worried about any of this:
“Journalists know about fact-checking,” he said. “Beauticians know about hair dye and shampoo…” [Link]
And the book is already an instant best-seller, with a film deal in the works:
The book has been widely praised, hitting No. 10 on the New York Times best-seller list this week and receiving a “six figure” deal from Columbia Pictures. [Link]
So read it if you wish, but if you find yourself as cranky as I was after just a few pages of the book, don’t saw I didn’t warn you.
ennis at 12:13 AM in Beauty, Film, Reviews · 48 comment(s) · Direct link
January 06, 2007
Oil of Ofay
I know I’m plowing a slightly old furrow here (Manish blogged about this product when it launched back in ‘05), but in light of the Guardian commentary today by Sarita Malik that Red Snapper posted on the news tab, and the latest round of skin-ism and politics-of-appearance debates on the comment threads, I thought it might be useful to reproduce the scientific chart to the right. It’s an analysis by Emami Ltd., the makers of “Fair and Handsome” skin lightening creme for men.
The product website is a gold mine of manipulation, insecurity generation, and odd Indian advertising lingo, complete with a list of “free sample receivers” and “hey gals! give your opinion also” exhortations. It’s also, obviously, testimonial that at least in Desh, skin-ism is still in deep effect.
We all know intutively that the phenomenon extends to the diaspora, but how much, and with what consequences, is a matter of (endless) discussion. I have to say that although I found Malik’s commentary well written and to the point, she offered little concrete evidence of skin color discrimination among desis in the UK, and she undermined her piece by referring to Fair and Handsome as a Hindustan Lever (makers of Fair & Lovely) product, which it isn’t.
siddhartha at 11:16 AM in Beauty, Identity, Issues · 128 comment(s) · Direct link
December 18, 2006
SM Memo: Nars "Hindu" is Very Brown
The mission came my way via Abhi over a month ago, a reader had contacted our comment line with the following:
The high-end cosmetics company NARS has a new lipstick shade called Hindu…I wonder how a shade called Jew or Protestant would fare in the public eye? Is the idea that all Hindus have temptingly red lips? To be fair, there are also shades called Afghan Red and Gipsy. What do you think?
Said Abhi, “This one is ALL you.” Said me, “HELL YES!” I love Nars. If I’m not wearing Chanel makeup, I’m glowing because of the most notoriously named blush of all time. One problem— “Hindu” proved more elusive than I imagined. It was sold-out all over town. The intrigue grew; if it was so desired, I had to keep it under surveillance for the sake of the Mutiny. I finally located a tester of it at Blue Mercury Apothecary (apothecary!) and made my way to my prey.
Part of Nars’ Holiday ‘06 collection, “Hindu” had sold so well, it would take a month for me to procure one for the Mutiny. “Nars just didn’t make enough,” my source said, as they prepared the tester for germ-phobic me. I loathe such situations, because I prefer to examine communal cosmetics on the back of my hand. The allegedly-disinfected lipstick was headed right for me. I started to panic, but then I remembered that every Mutiny requires pain and sacrifice.
When she was done with me, I was wearing a very brown lipstick with excellent texture, which reminded of a sheer version of Chanel’s “Very Vamp”. I expected redder tones, not the muted brown which I was studying. I also thought there would be more glitter, since it’s very visible in the tube. The staff praised the end result; I was less convinced by the “Hindu” effect. Maybe for the office, but it was too dull for my scenery-chewing tastes. I was thrilled that it looked so good on South Asian skin, though.
“Would you like to be put on the waiting list?”
I hesitated; normally I would have politely declined, but Abhi had tasked me with more than just scouting “Hindu” out:
My biggest question is can a nice Christian girl such as yourself be labeled a “heathen” if they apply this? If you kiss a nice Mallu boy with “Hindu” lipstick on, what would happen!
In the name of the Mutiny, I gladly put myself on the line to complete this mission; alas, I did not find a suitable partner for such a life-or-death covert operation. Abhi, forgive me.
anna at 10:43 AM in Beauty, Humor, Photos · 130 comment(s) · Direct link
September 15, 2006
American Babel
Back in the day, I had an Italian co-worker who had the oh-so-Italian name “Enzo” coupled with the deadly, oh-so-Italian accent. The amazing thing about Enzo was that it didn’t matter one bit what was actually coming out of his mouth - the ladies in the office always had the same swooning reaction, “oh Enzo, say ‘operating system’ again. It sounds so sexy.”
Blech.
Despite having a pretty American accent myself (with an occasional touch of TX), I knew enough about how the world worked to know that one day, just once, I’d love to hear women swoon at the Indian accent. And on that day, my proverbial ship would finally come in and perhaps a few perceived ethnic slights would be righted. But, as Russell Peters once quipped, the primary thing the Indian accent is good for is cutting the tension.“The primary thing the Indian accent is good for is cutting the tension.”
The lesson? Enzo’s Italian accent evoked the exotic beauty, power and grace of a Ferrari the same way DesiTalk brought forth the rugged manliness of Apu.
So, the following commercial didn’t really move my meter much. TV Junkie that I am, I’ve usually got the boob tube on in the background while working. And, as a result, I probably get more than my fair share of 30second pop culture. So like many of you, I’ve come across a series of TV commercials for L’Oreal Cosmetics starring none other than our own Aishwarya Rai…
Exhibit A - an Aishwarya commercial for L’Oreal cosmetics uploaded to Youtube some 6 months ago and thus probably close to a year old. Listen carefully as she, dealing with the intractible tragicomedy that is life, asks if you too “Feel Like Your Dark Hair is Too Dark?” -
Clearly a voiceover. And a bad one at that. And, for now at least, I’ll direct our ethno-authenticity hounds away from the “solve life’s problems / lighten your hairSolve life’s problems / lighten your hair” message.
Still, there’s an important lesson to be gleamed — Aish’s Color / Clarity / Contrast / Symmetry highlighted by blue eyes might be good enough for America’s brunette, aspiring suburban diva’s. BUT, producers feared her accent would detract from the overall motif. Perhaps her voice was seen as an unanticipated touch of Apu where the audience was expecting Enzo. Oh well.
But waiddaminut. Let us observe social evolution before our eyes in less than 12 months. The latest series of L’Oreal commercials has begun to air with a decidedly different tone -
From the innocently posed inquiry “ready to transform your lashes?” to the bold call to action “dare to be daring” we hear Aishwarya and her [uptown / gentrified] desi accent in its raw, full, transformative glory. You, the tired, huddled, housewives of Des Moines with 2.1 kids could be her. In your aspirational dreams. With just the right mascara. Sort of.
Nevertheless, for a moment, let us recognize that while the political wheels of social equality get tripped up by Macaca-gate and whatnot, Madison Avenue appears to be delivering a certain type of progress. However, it’s a front many activists prefer to ignore, others consider inherently antithetical to progress, and some, arguably, wish would go away altogether — the mass market. Middle America’s dreams & aspirations. Wal-Mart’s feminine beauty aisle.
And what shall we call this strange domain? How about The Real World.
An interesting tactical debate for Afro-American observors has been the degree to
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There goes the neighborhood. |
Gay advocates similarly debate the delta between Will&Grace and QueerEye vs. QueerNation and their contribution towards the ongoing sea change in Gay acceptance over the past decade… For African-Americans, Gays, and other historically marginalized groups, both prongs have certainly contributed, but there are important lessons that emerge from trying to tease apart which was and is more effective today and moving forward. Important political lessons.
My opinion should be pretty obvious. But, back to more pressing matters. Legions of desi’s should brace themselves for the moment when The Accent is finally sexy — and that matters to my Real World. While Aishwarya’s undubbed voice might serve as a small step for commercial America, it’s a giant leap for DesiKind.
vinod at 12:59 PM in Beauty, Fashion, Issues · 142 comment(s) · Direct link
September 08, 2006
More Friday Hotties (Illicit Pakistani Style)
Did someone call for more hotties? Well, this desi hottie is at the center of a brewing diplomatic incident. You see, Mariyah Moten entered a beauty pageant on China’s Hainan Island — which is becoming a sort of tacky Asian Costa del Sol — representing Pakistan, but clad in the most un-Islamic attire that you see in the picture to the right. Not only that, but Mariyah isn’t even a Pakistani citizen to begin with. She’s a naturalized US citizen. So basically this semi-naked American chick is giving Pakistan a bad — or at least, unclad — name at a third-rate beauty pageant in some Chinese seaside town. All this courtesy of the Daily Mail (via a kind tipster on the News tab):
“We have asked our missions in Washington and Beijing to investigate this because it is against our policy, culture and religion,” senior Culture Ministry official Abdul Hafeez Chaudhry said. …
Moten, a student of hotel management at the University of Houston, was born and brought up in the Pakistani city of Karachi.
Mr Chaudhry said Pakistan - which does not hold beauty contests - might take the issue up with China, depending on the result of the investigation.
He also said the government might withdraw from Moten special privileges offered to people of Pakistani descent such as visa-free travel to Pakistan.
Well. This story clearly called for further investigation, and Sepia Mutiny can now report that the beauty pageant was, in fact, Miss Bikini Universe, and it was the first time that Pakistan was represented in that hallowed competition. She was entered by an organization called Miss Pakistan World, which holds beauty pageants for women of Pakistani origin from its base in Canada. Miss Pakistan World is quite a full fledged operation with, it might be noted, corporate sponsors in both North America and in Pakistan.
The reigning Miss Pakistan World is Sehr Mahmood — there she is on the right — who has an honors degree in Economics and is planning on going to business school after her year-long reign. In an interview with a site called The Real Desi, Sehr has some very solid things to say, including this, when asked who she considered a role model:
Mukhtar Mai, a rape victim in Pakistan, who was gang-raped on the orders of a tribal council in rural Punjab as a punishment for the actions of her brother has influenced my personal life in a big way. Her strength and attitude is a symbol of human courage and perseverance. Here is a remarkable woman who has chosen to take a stand against the mistreatment meted out to her, at a time when millions of other women in the same predicament chose to suffer in silence. Mukhtar has continued her struggle and lead the protest for equal rights on international womens day. Her remarkable story and tireless activism represents the way for victims of violence everywhere. She has the courage to stand against all the injustice against the women in a civilized society which is very unthinkable in today’s society. I really admire Mai’s courageous stand and hope this case will be the beginning of a change of attitudes and procedures and respect for women in Pakistan and hope that other women will come forward to demand the changes that are required. In a country where women’s rights have a long way to go, I find Mai very courageous to have come forward with her devastating rape case. She brings hope to thousands of women in Pakistan who are constant victims of domestic abuse and honour cases. Mukhtar Mai’s courage and leadership will offer a beacon of hope to oppressed women everywhere.
A desi sister with an economic degree and serious social awareness — now that, as they say, is hot.
You may conduct your own research into Miss Pakistan International and its activities at their site. More hotties await.
siddhartha at 05:00 PM in Beauty · 50 comment(s) · Direct link
June 15, 2006
The World Cup: First Week Impressions
The people have spoken! And they want more Brazilian hotties World Cup coverage. Armed with this unambiguous mandate, I offer you the Sepia Mutiny update on the World Cup, now that one-third of the first round is over and we have seen every team in action at least once.
First, the Desi Angle (TM): your Great Brown Hope, the Mauritian-Indian French midfielder Vikash Dhorasoo, came on for the final ten minutes of an insipid and stultifying France-Switzerland match that produced the two teams’ third draw in their last three confrontations. Brought on to give France some much-needed energy, Dhorasoo did well in the short time he had, and nearly scored with a searing shot from range that just missed the far post. Watching amid a thin, pessimistic French crowd on the otherwise lovely rear patio of Brooklyn restaurant Jolie, Mr Kobayashi and I nearly choked on our merguez sandwiches as we watched the potential First Desi Goal in World Cup History skim barely wide. It was not to be, but with the French first-stringers not showing much verve, the Hope may well see more playing time in the next two matches against South Korea and Togo.
Via that brother at Ultrabrown, here is a YouTube video of Dhorasoo’s entrance and shot. I couldn’t find a still photo — if anyone out there has found one, holla at me.
And that concludes the Desi Angle (TM). Now for the true heads, here’s an appreciation of the tournament so far, with a Daljit Dhaliwal tie-in for those who read all the way to the end.
It’s been a good one! And it’s wide open, with about a dozen of the field of 32 plausible contenders to win the whole thing. Together with Kobayashi and some other addicts brave souls, I’ve watched at least some of each game, and all of most, many of them at ethnically appropriate venues around New York City. Here’s my note on each, in (current) predicted order of finish.
Group A
Germany - Came out in unusual fashion with mad attacking flair and porous central defense in their 4-2 opener against Costa Rica. Reverted to tedious form in their 1-0 squeaker over Poland. But they’re the home team, and besides, if you’ve watched any football in the past 30 years you know to Never Rule Out The Kraut. (Sorry. It rhymes. I actually like these guys.)
Ecuador - The rap against Ecuador is that they only play well at high altitude. Well, they beat low-lying Poland in low-lying Germany by a clear 2-0, so so much for that theory. Not the most organized side, but great energy and attackers who can turn it on. I watched with a bunch of Ecuadorans, not one of whom was as dark-skinned as the average complexion on the team.
Costa Rica - A bunch of chickens with their heads cut off, plus a damn fine attacker called Wanchope, who sliced through the German defense with strength, style and grace. “GOOOOLLLLLLLLL,” cried the Univision announcer. “GOOOOLLLLLL DEL CHOPE! CHOPE, CHOPE, CHOPE!”
Poland - A sad early exit is almost guaranteed after they ripped defeat from the jaws of an honorable goalless tie with the hosts. A shame, but after losing to Ecuador they weren’t going anywhere. The Polish hoolies can stay around and cause trouble, or go home and beat up the team.
Group B
England - I guess. Though they’ve done little to earn it. A sorry display against even sorrier Paraguay, and in a few hours they face Trinidad and Tobago, for whom the dream will soon enough die. They’ve rubbed some magic ointment on Wayne Rooney’s foot (probably the substance the East German doctors used back in the good old days of the cold war), but nobody’s fooled, nor ever will be by a Sven-Goran Eriksson-coached team. They should have gotten rid of this clown a long time ago. For the World Cup, there’s always 2010.
Sweden - Someone buried a chicken under the Trinidad and Tobago goal line, creating a force field that caused Sweden’s numerous — dozens? hundreds? — of clear goal opportunities to fizzle, many in spectacular fashion. Props too to Trini goalkeeper Shaka Hislop, but most of all to that chicken. Sweden’s next opponents won’t have mystical protection, and this stylish, organized side should continue into the second round, maybe more.
Trinidad and Tobago - The Official Underdog of the competition, and they can play. (No desis on the team, but this is football not cricket.) The chicken did its job, but against England they’re going to need a goat, or maybe a nubile virgin.
Group C
Argentina - Okay, it’s proper form to hate on Argentina (thuggish, racist, arrogant, etc), but damn, this is a good side. They looked complete in their hard-earned 2-1 victory over an excellent Ivory Coast side. I’ll still hate on them, but they look like winners.
Ivory Coast - I’m going out on a limb here, since out of Ivory Coast, Argentina and Holland, one isn’t going through, and right now Holland has points and the Elephants don’t. But I got a feeling. The best African team in the field, and in any group but this one and Group E, they’d be sure to move on.
Holland - See above. In the meantime, do not miss Holland - Ivory Coast on Friday. A real cup-final, plus both sets of fans wear orange, so the stadium should look like a big bowl of Tropicana.
Serbia and Montenegro - They must be depressed that they represent a country that is now officially two different countries. Apparently there’s only one Montenegrine brother on the team in the first place — why don’t they just kick him off? Your basic Slavic side - dour, reasonably effective, but no imagination.
Group D
Mexico - It took them a while to turn it on against Iran, but they eventually did and won by a handy 3-1. A fast, organized squad with a real charismatic leader in Rafa Marquez. I see El Tri as a darkhorse to make it to the semis, maybe more. Si se puede!
Portugal - Okay, so they beat Angola. But can they beat Mexico? I don’t see it. But if you’re in the NYC area, do yourself a favor and go watch a Portugal game at the Portuguese Social Club, 55 Prospect Street, in Newark. It’s just a five-minute walk from the Amtrak and PATH station. Gorgeous old hall, huge screen, family atmosphere, outsiders welcome. Amazing.
Angola - Will defeat Iran, then go home.
Iran - Will lose to Angola, then go home.
Group E
Italy - Call me blinded by the light, but still, Italy looked dazzling in their 2-0 defeat of a good Ghana side. With a real striker in Luca Toni (right), and a wealth of riches at every position, I can see the Azzurri going all the way. Women and appropriately-oriented men may be assured they’ll have plenty more occasions to ogle this team of certified hotties. (In their fetching uniforms.)
Czech Republic - Man, I really want Ghana in this spot but I just don’t see it. It’s not just that the Czechs swept away those other guys — where were they from already? — but they’re just a legit side all around, with not one but two midfield maestros, Rosicki and Nedved, on duty.
Ghana - They played Italy tight and had plenty of chances to tie, but lost their spirit after a dumb defensive mistake by, of all people, the veteran Bayern Munich defender Kuffour, gifted Italy with a 2-0 lead. Watching this fine challenge fizzle down, the boisterous crowd at the Ghanaian spot in Harlem quickly turned on their team. “What is wrong with these Ghanaians?” “My uncle could play better!” Still, a good time was had.
United States - Really, what is there to say?
Group F
Brazil - The glass half empty says they win; the glass half full says they float to victory on an unstoppable tide of collective insight and individual artistry. Either way, they win, as they did over Croatia 1-0. But man, is that Ronaldo overweight! Take that brother out of the line-up. We watched the match with about seven hundred Brazilians in Astoria. How tedious! You missed nothing, really.
Australia - I actually didn’t see Australia beat Japan. I had work to do, believe it or not. But Kobayashi tells me they’ll finish second.
Japan - Kobayashi tell me they’ll finish third. He’s not Japanese, by the way, despite the name. Perhaps if he were he’d be more optimistic.
Croatia - Those uniforms are way too ugly to merit advancing.
Group G
France - I guess, still. But only because the Swiss don’t have the spark. Shit, maybe Korea will take this thing. But I still think France, if coach Raymond Domenech extracts his head from his arse. He won’t do it on his own, but it’s not too far from Paris to Germany for the gendarmerie to turn up with a giant pair of pliers.
South Korea - I will own one of those exquisite pink shirts before this thing is over.
Switzerland - They’re OK. But no spark.
Togo - They almost got a point off South Korea, and they could yet off one of the others. But they’ll still finish last.
Group H
Spain - That loud sound you hear is the Spain bandwagon clanging into motion after the 4-0 ridiculing of Ukraine. Coach Aragones (he of the racist comments about Thierry Henry) showed some wisdom in making aging-golden-boy Raul, who’s always been a bad omen for the team, a substitute. Raul’s scored a lot of goals, but his most famous ones are the ones he’s flubbed, like the missed penalty kick against France in the smis of Euro 2000. So long as Raul doesn’t start, Spain can advance. The moment he starts against a legitimate opponent, they’ll lose. But the extremely clement draw ensures Spain won’t meet a legit opponent until the quarter-finals.
Tunisia - Maybe. This group should only advance Spain if there were any justice.
Ukraine - Ditto.
Saudi Arabia - Ditto. But they sure got some black dudes on the Saudi team — in fact, a whole range of characters. Makes you wonder what would happen if they got rid of the royal family and put the ordinary folks in charge. Might even turn out to be a pleasant place.
And that’s the view from here. Comment, flame, analyze, opine, and contribute away. And I’ll be rapping World Cup and New York stuff this evening with the lovely and talented Daljit Dhaliwal, when she hosts WNYC’s “The Conversation.” The show airs at 8 pm on WNYC’s AM feed, AM 820. Tune in live or catch it online later!
siddhartha at 01:01 AM in Beauty, Religion, Sports · 144 comment(s) · 2 reader(s) linked · Direct link
June 09, 2006
It's On !!!
On July 29, 1911, the gentlemen to the right lifted their first IFA Shield as Mohun Bagan defeated the East Yorkshire Regiment by two goals to one. Founded in 1889, Calcutta’s Mohun Bagan are Asia’s oldest football team, and to this day a major force in Indian soccer, along with perennial in-town rivals East Bengal and Mohammedan Sporting. Calcutta remains a hotbed of Indian football, with the most famous clubs and the most ardent and knowledgeable international football fans.
A memory: Midway through the US-hosted 1994 World Cup, I learned that my grandmother was ill and unlikely to survive. I flew to Calcutta from Boston, where I had attended two 1st-round matches and one 2nd-round (the Nigeria-Italy of tragic memory). For two weeks, my father and I held death watch in the family house. Our sole distraction was the World Cup matches that beamed in to the ill-tempered black-and-white television at ungodly hours of the night. In this nether state we saw the heroics of Romania’s Georghe Hagi, Sweden’s unlikely run, and Branco’s 30-meter free-kick that broke the Brazil-Netherlands tie. At 8 a.m. the armada of doctors would appear. They too had risen at 3 to watch the games. We’d analyze Colombia’s strange collapse or Brazil’s atypically dull style as they hovered over my grandmother, our own drama sadly easier to predict than, say, the fact that Brazil would beat Italy in the final on, of all things, a missed Roberto Baggio penalty.
Minutes away as I write this, Germany and Costa Rica will kick off this year’s tournament. In Calcutta, LCD and plasma television sales have doubled, says the Telegraph. The paper provides its readers with an invaluable feature on World Cup viewing tips which will be useful to sepia aficionados worldwide.
It covers dress:
The price may be a little steep at Rs 2,700, but Adidas is seeing team jerseys of Argentina, Germany, Spain and France fly off the shelves in city stores. Ditto for Nike jerseys of Brazil, Portugal and Holland, priced at Rs 2,495.
Posture:
The TV set should be at eye level, at a distance of at least five to six feet. Sit upright in straight-backed cushioned chair with head and lumbar support….
That Calcutta is becoming more conscious of the cramp and the cringe is clear from the queries reaching gyms about what to do during World Cup viewing.
An erect posture should be maintained while sitting for such long hours because if the posture is faulty back trouble is inevitable. Reclining chairs are not advised, says Divya Himatsingka of Golds Gym.
Exercise:
Stretches and lower-back exercises are a must to keep fit through the Cup month. Get up at brief intervals and take a short walk; at half-time do some stretching to prevent stiffness, says Sabyasachi Roy of Addlife, the gym planning to distribute a special-exercise plan among patrons watching the World Cup.
Hydration:
Dietician Shalini Agarwal prescribes no more than two cups of tea or coffee for a 90-minute match. Too much of tea and coffee will mar whatever chances you have of catching some sound sleep, warns Shalini. Her recommendation: iced-tea flavoured with ginger or fresh lime with soda.
If that isnt your cup of tea, mixologist Irfan Ahmed picks beer as the safest drink to cheer the Cup. Or go for Sangria, an ideal summer beverage, red wine flavoured with citrus and fresh juice. If your team wins, keep tequila shots handy, says Irfan.
Diet:
Dietician Shalini Agarwal lists some finger food to keep munching during the matches while keeping those extra calories at bay:
- Sprouted bhel (puffed rice, sprouted grams, mint chutney, tamarind chutney, onion, tomato and chaat masala)
- Microwave popcorn (low-fat variety, of course)
- Home-made potato chips
- Home-made burgers.
And this life-saving health warning:
Cardiac patients should be extra careful about going crazy over goals scored and missed.
Bhel, tequila and stretches: Ladies and gentlemen of the Mutiny, I’m ready! WILLKOMMEN ZUM FUSSBALL and may France Brazil Ivory Coast the best team win!
siddhartha at 10:45 AM in Beauty, Events, History, Politics, Religion, Sports · 53 comment(s) · 1 reader(s) linked · Direct link
May 24, 2006
Pore Some Thekalikya On Me
I may no longer have pink hair and my square-toe docs are 3,000 miles away, but I like to think that being punk requires more than such outward signals. I’m nowhere near as in to anarchy as I once was, but I still totally love the idea of DIY everything. In honor of that hallowed part of punk ideology, I present to you the following blurb which features advice from some desi beauty expert whom I’ve never heard of…I ganked it from the May 2006 issue of Jane, which I’m trying desperately to stay fond of, even though it is suddenly for 20-something women. WTF?
Oh, Sassy…how you are missed. You are the only reason I still subscribe to the monthly which is supposedly your phoenix.
DIY pore shrinkage
Here’s an easy way to minimize the appearance of enlarged pores courtesy of Anjali, who was formerly the Martha Stew of Indian daytime TV and now is head of product development at Shobha salon in NY.
Using a blender, puree one medium unripe tomato (the greener the better…) with one teaspoon of honey— this will mix the astringent power of the fruit w/the natural moisturizers in the honey. Apply the pulp to a freshly washed face, leave it on for 20 minutes, then rinse.
And if your problems go beyond skin issues, toss the remaining puree into a shaker, add some salt, a little vodka and a lot of ice. Shake, pour, drink. - Celia
Um, no, I haven’t tried it. But I was the guinea piglet for L’oreal’s latest mascara so I think I should get a pass on this little experiment. If YOU are brave enough to smear extra sweet salsa on your punim, do let us know if this results in less holes in your face, thanks .
anna at 12:17 PM in Beauty, Fashion, Humor · 214 comment(s) · Direct link
