Poshan
Glitterati
OUTLOOK Monday 30 September, 2019
Semi-Colon Sighs

Couldn’t she have had a better hairstyle than one which makes her hair stand up in ungainly tufts, like that of a bird soaked to its skin in the Mumbai monsoon? Couldn’t he have worn a jacket without those offensive stripes, often an indicator of a perfect marriage of bad taste with sudden money? But Rahika is soaring after the success of Andhadhun; Ali Fazal, too, is gearing up for his role in a Hollywood production of Death on the Nile, the Poirot mystery. They smiled reassuringly at the ‘IIFA Rocks’ event; they had a lot of fun.  

Spilling Sense

People across the world don’t just get why the US’ rampant, speciously glorified gun-culture—progenitor of an unending series of tragedies—cannot be rei­ned in for the sake of ord­inary Americans. Naomi Cam­p­bell, her lustre und­immed, has not given up. At the Lon­don Fashion Week, her cha­ste white gown was sullied by this bloody bullet wound. ‘Give up this madness’, it screamed. Will the rednecks listen?

Cleaning The Table

Chances are  that you’ve fooled around a pool table in a pub, miscuing those coloured orbs merrily, happy with the satisfying ‘clicks’ and the rare ‘pocket’. Imagine a bigger table, the highest stakes, webs of intricate geometry flashing through players’ minds as they stand still, chalking their cues. Just try taking in Pankaj Advani’s achievement—the man just won his 22nd World Billiards Championship title. Move over, Virat; spare a thought, Sindhu.

They’ve Worked It Out

In this age of ‘likes’, ‘hits’ and instant instagram popularity, blood ties to celebrities are enough to rub off on seekers of public approbation. Anam Mirza (Sania’s sister) and Md Asaduddin (Azhar’s son) are, if you like, such second-hand celebrities. Can he flick balls from the 5th stump to the squ­are leg boundary? Can she hit rasping, inside-out forehands? Nah, the dating (‘rumoured’, of course) pair is content to reap the dividends of their relatives’ exploits. 

Clean Boots

She was once cruelly ign­ored for having dark skin and, consequently, suffered from under-confidence. Now, Madhulika Sharma, from Assam, cocks her thumb at those dimwits as her 5-foot-9.5-inch frame dances down catwalks at the New York Fashion Week. Sies Marjan...Zimmermann...Brock are but a day’s work for the latest Indian model to make eyes at top fashion brands. Never mind the echoes from the ’80s in this truncated suit. Heed her advice: be comfy in your skin.

This Too Happened

The first major international conference on the #MeToo movement took place in Iceland’s Reykjavik on Tuesday. The country’s woman PM Katrín Jakobsdóttir told the press that the meet was to gauge the movement’s impact and discuss ways to take it forward to “relegate sexual harassment to history”.



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  • If you’d like to stitch together a Hollywood dream team, it has to have Marty, Bob and Sonny. The BFI London film festival saved its hushed breath for The Irishman—a gangster drama by the man who helped define the genre in Goodfellas and The Departed. Yet, in this autumnal light, Frank (De Niro) and Jimmy (Al Pacino) are just not snarling desperados, six-shooters at the ready. Time is also spent on sombre reflection—old reg­rets, moral reckonings and the one important thing that finally matters: mortality.
  • An evening in Paris is kinda incomplete without appreciating up-close those high-kicking cancan dancers in flesh-exposing ostrich feather costumes at Moulin Rouge. It’s a touristy tradition of 130 years, a milestone the cabaret reached this aut­umn. Enjoy the choreography and quaff your way through a bottle of champagne. 82 Boulevard de Clichy, Please
  • Kendall Jenner, Camila Morr­one, Scooter Braun, Kim Kard­ashian, Joan Smalls...that’s a guestlist straight out of a Craigslist of new-world cel­e­­bdom. Except the model and the real-life showgirl, we hadn’t heard of anyone (had you?). They banded together at the wedding ceremony of Justin Bieber and Hailey Baldwin in South Carolina. Don’t it look like they’re on a school trip?
  • His penchant for prancing about in outrageous clothes —the incessant, kitschy peacocking—might irritate you, but the one role tailormade for Ranveer Sinh’s exuberance was Gully Boy. Inspired by street rappers Divine and Naezy, Ranveer, his rapper team and Alia set Dharavi alight with their defiant poe­try. Acclaimed by all, it is now India’s official entry to the Oscars. We need them to break the fourth wall now.
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