- The one that describes me to the dot. Here's the dictionary definition - courtesy Merriam-Webster.
epicure
ep·i·cure
Pronunciation:
\ˈe-pi-ˌkyu̇r\
Function:
noun
Etymology:
Epicurus
Date:
1565
1archaic : one devoted to sensual pleasure : sybarite2: one with sensitive and discriminating tastes especially in food or wine
synonyms epicure , gourmet , gourmand , gastronome mean one who takes pleasure in eating and drinking. epicure implies fastidiousness and voluptuousness of taste. gourmet implies being a connoisseur in food and drink and the discriminating enjoyment of them. gourmand implies a hearty appetite for good food and drink, not without discernment, but with less than a gourmet's. gastronome implies that one has studied extensively the history and rituals of haute cuisine.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Vanity.
I am sure this is a repeat title, but it just has to be:-)
The first thing remarkable I noticed about my appearance or the first thing remarkable about my appearance that got me noticed rather - was my jet black, lush, long hair. I wore my hair in two lengths ever since I grew out of that semi-bald toddler look my mom so fondly remembers - Long and very long. There was an occasional self-style that I treated myself to and chopped inches off of the long mane, not just to look good, but to experience the satisfaction of making a pair of scissors cut through a mass of hair, but other than that, I wore it long. Until recent past nothing has changed much about the hair in question. Of course, it succumbed to the flipping pages of the calendar and reached the medium density level, but the hue remains jet black - naturally occurring jet black that is!
So, in the frenzy of re-inventing myself for my daughter's first b'day and compensating for the unlost post-preg-paunch, I took a drastic step , followed my horribly off fashion intuition and got my hair chemically straightened. Now, did some one say not to improve on things that don't need improvement? I was probably grooving to a Rahman tune with my iPod earphones plugged in and I missed listening to that piece of advice. It was pure bliss, none the less, since there was zero frizzy, zero work for my gently and rarely used hair dryer and it was a lazy lady's answer to the prayer said to banish bad hair days! And then - the real enemy arrives, slowly but surely!
The roots.... Wavy ones. And my hair took no time in transforming from manageable to menace. And, then - then, I had to listen to my kind of in sync fashion intuition and cut my hair short, Not Demi Moore or even Katie Holmes short, but below the shoulder short. The cute young stylist form Juice or B Blunt - I don't remember, convinced me to go shorter, but being the dominant female species I am, said no in a way he could not dare to convince me anymore:-))
Walking out of B Blunt (or Juice - both were so adjacent and my brother actually booked the appt) I felt like a blend of Kareena Kapoor and Preity Zinta and really loved the way my hair shun the split personality with half slick straight and half naturally wavy hip length hair.
I should have left it at that. But no, I didn't! The shoulder length got a little longer and I being the impulsive, adventurous, free spirit I am, ventured into the UN-comfort zone and on a whimsy, cut my hair above shoulder - Just in a justification that I always wanted to wear my hair Demi Moore short ever since my husband's cousin and My cousin's hubby (both different ppl BTW) thought I looked like her ten years and thirty pounds ago!
So, from Hip long to Shoulder short, my journey through the hair style roller coaster offered me all the thrill, apprehension and nervousness expected of a roller coaster ride from a non-thrill seeker like Moi. I think the Kapoors and Zintas are now replaced with the very awkward, "Before" Kajol in KKHH. The plain vanilla hip length braid that swayed like a simple pendulum is now feathery short, tomboyishly dense and slips through the scrunchy that attempts to hold it all together. It rips me off of my identity, my Indianness, my feeling of comfort when I hold the roots of my long braid and coil it into a neat bun at the nape of my neck while vacuuming and doing dishes. The hair is gone, it'll come back soon...but what about my comfort? Well looks like it has to wait too....or may be, I'd lead my life way too much in the comfort zone and a part of me is liking the risk I'd taken. Or may be not!
May be I wont be noticed for my hair any more. Will that make me be noticed for -say - my lack of hair??? No idea. But I really wanted to kick the ass of that know all, self proclaimed professional beautician i ran into that asked me, in her horribly false put on accent, to look at pictures before getting a hair cut the next time around (Like I am moron enough to entrust my hair to a stylist and ask her to have the time of her life chopping it off!). I think that her hair style sucks BTW...and this blog is hereby rated PG 13. Wait, not the whole collection, just this one - and may be a few more!
Time to sleep - and miss the coil of my crowning glory. Ahh....should've used that as the title!
ha ha ha......
The first thing remarkable I noticed about my appearance or the first thing remarkable about my appearance that got me noticed rather - was my jet black, lush, long hair. I wore my hair in two lengths ever since I grew out of that semi-bald toddler look my mom so fondly remembers - Long and very long. There was an occasional self-style that I treated myself to and chopped inches off of the long mane, not just to look good, but to experience the satisfaction of making a pair of scissors cut through a mass of hair, but other than that, I wore it long. Until recent past nothing has changed much about the hair in question. Of course, it succumbed to the flipping pages of the calendar and reached the medium density level, but the hue remains jet black - naturally occurring jet black that is!
So, in the frenzy of re-inventing myself for my daughter's first b'day and compensating for the unlost post-preg-paunch, I took a drastic step , followed my horribly off fashion intuition and got my hair chemically straightened. Now, did some one say not to improve on things that don't need improvement? I was probably grooving to a Rahman tune with my iPod earphones plugged in and I missed listening to that piece of advice. It was pure bliss, none the less, since there was zero frizzy, zero work for my gently and rarely used hair dryer and it was a lazy lady's answer to the prayer said to banish bad hair days! And then - the real enemy arrives, slowly but surely!
The roots.... Wavy ones. And my hair took no time in transforming from manageable to menace. And, then - then, I had to listen to my kind of in sync fashion intuition and cut my hair short, Not Demi Moore or even Katie Holmes short, but below the shoulder short. The cute young stylist form Juice or B Blunt - I don't remember, convinced me to go shorter, but being the dominant female species I am, said no in a way he could not dare to convince me anymore:-))
Walking out of B Blunt (or Juice - both were so adjacent and my brother actually booked the appt) I felt like a blend of Kareena Kapoor and Preity Zinta and really loved the way my hair shun the split personality with half slick straight and half naturally wavy hip length hair.
I should have left it at that. But no, I didn't! The shoulder length got a little longer and I being the impulsive, adventurous, free spirit I am, ventured into the UN-comfort zone and on a whimsy, cut my hair above shoulder - Just in a justification that I always wanted to wear my hair Demi Moore short ever since my husband's cousin and My cousin's hubby (both different ppl BTW) thought I looked like her ten years and thirty pounds ago!
So, from Hip long to Shoulder short, my journey through the hair style roller coaster offered me all the thrill, apprehension and nervousness expected of a roller coaster ride from a non-thrill seeker like Moi. I think the Kapoors and Zintas are now replaced with the very awkward, "Before" Kajol in KKHH. The plain vanilla hip length braid that swayed like a simple pendulum is now feathery short, tomboyishly dense and slips through the scrunchy that attempts to hold it all together. It rips me off of my identity, my Indianness, my feeling of comfort when I hold the roots of my long braid and coil it into a neat bun at the nape of my neck while vacuuming and doing dishes. The hair is gone, it'll come back soon...but what about my comfort? Well looks like it has to wait too....or may be, I'd lead my life way too much in the comfort zone and a part of me is liking the risk I'd taken. Or may be not!
May be I wont be noticed for my hair any more. Will that make me be noticed for -say - my lack of hair??? No idea. But I really wanted to kick the ass of that know all, self proclaimed professional beautician i ran into that asked me, in her horribly false put on accent, to look at pictures before getting a hair cut the next time around (Like I am moron enough to entrust my hair to a stylist and ask her to have the time of her life chopping it off!). I think that her hair style sucks BTW...and this blog is hereby rated PG 13. Wait, not the whole collection, just this one - and may be a few more!
Time to sleep - and miss the coil of my crowning glory. Ahh....should've used that as the title!
ha ha ha......
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