Get me more Choglet

I wish I was a person who could sport ethnogrunge look. You know, long earrings, thick kajol, occasional bangle. Trouble is, it also requires you to wear very good quality clothing, accoutrement, which you then proceed to destroy and call grunge. Or let it just become out of fashion and call it grunge. Which makes grunge a look, which is such nyakamo, really.
I do not wish to sport that look. If you are all nihilistic and feel nothing about the world, you can’t possibly have all the patience to paint your white, back and red.
I used to love dressing in raggedy clothes and I wish grunge was actually that, where you could sport comfortable tatter and still appear attractive. I look nice with kajol, but comfort really matters more and I take public transport and I sweat bucketfulls, so no kajol in summer, or lipstick for the same reason. And bangles make my hand look like a jhee’s. And I won’t buy clothes that cost more than a certain amount, because after all, they are clothes and are meant to cover your body. And waifish choppol, forgyet it. I hate dry, dirty feet.
Ethnogrunge, my foot, nc.
This is also occasioned by Dakota Fanning’s look in Push, a film that could have been so much more but which I still liked very much. Sure, the film’s yellow pallette will all turn out to be Wong Kar Wai-like and boyfriend will tell me o-my-god-eta oita!. Kintu ki korbo, I think I really like all these mildly sci-fi like films and fantasy toh I definitely like very much. Well, so Dakota Fanning had this shock of unruly hair with pink highlights, which I would love to have, except that my hair is in a very bad way and is a sensitive issue and probably won’t survive pink highlighting.
Another thing is the academic I met towards last weekend for an interview. It was bad and therefore very disappointing, but she had seemed so beautiful, you know. That’s the reason why I had hauled myself to meet her in the morning, waking up at 9.30 for god’s sake. And would love to put up her photo, she still seems beautiful to me. So intangible, perhaps therefore beautiful. After speaking to her for a while, the smile didn’t seem so lighting up the place anymore. And the book is perhaps as many academic tomes are.
Lastly, William by Richmal Crompton. I wish I had bought the other one in that pile of nonsense books strewn about at our local bookfair and were selling for 20 bucks.

Can you believe, people in the adjoining cubicle are making obscene chook chook noises, which you otherwise hear on the street when people fancy you available. They are showing off who can do it best, oh such cool bhodrolok we are, we can do what is so bad without batting an eyelid and without besmirching our unblemished bhodrolokhood.