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Bruni Mania

Earlier this week, the Indian government was having a tough time figuring out the correct protocol of dealing with a visiting head of state’s girlfriend. French president Nicolas Sarkozy was coming to town and the rumor had it that he was bringing his new found love, former supermodel, Carla Bruni. One moment she was coming, the next, not. And now apparently she is going but separately. This is less troublesome but still a spot of bother for the protocol keepers as the couple are planning to visit that old monument of love, the Taj Mahal.

The global media has been all over the Sarkozy-Bruni romance as it’s not often that we get to see heads of state in the same predicament as a Hilton or Spears (please, I beg you, let’s leave Bill Clinton out of this). Even the bastions of serious journalism, The New York Times, The BBC, and horror of horrors, The Wall Street Journal (Rupert Murdoch is already showing his true colors at the newspaper) had lengthy articles on the relationship.

Bruni is quite familiar with this sort of attention having dated a who’s who of bad boys (Eric Clapton, Sir Mick Jagger, Vincent Perez, and even Kevin Costner). She retired from a lucrative modeling career (apparently she appeared in around 250 magazine covers) at the age of 30 and is now trying her hand at singing when she’s not visiting ancient monuments with Sarkozy. Lovers of French cinema will probably know that Bruni is the sister of noted French actress, Valeria Bruni-Tedeschi. Today, the Journal even compared her to Norah Jones. Curious, I dug up a video of the woman singing on youtube and I have to admit, I am impressed (see below). Too bad the Sarkozy tie might actually hurt her singing career. Though, let’s hope not.

The Perfect Shave

After slightly more than two decades, I have finally attained the state of nirvana when it comes to shaving. Call me a shaving snob, if you will. With a fast growth (what 5 o’clock shadow — more like 1 o’clock) and a thickness that rivals the Black Forest, nicking has been a weekly occurrence for most of my post pubescent life. Not anymore. I have discovered shaving oil and perfected the art of shaving.

First a hot water shower that allows my facial pores to open up. Then comes a liberal splash of more hot water on the face at the sink (I am not an in-the-shower shaver primarily due to the fact that my vision without glasses is far from 20/20). Then I pour a few drops of shaving oil onto my palms and spread it evenly across the stubble. I allow it to settle in for a few seconds and then lather up my face with shaving cream, using a badger brush to spread it evenly (and in the process, saving on the cream). I use a decent blade (currently the favorite is Fusion from Gillette) in smooth motions to wipe the face clean of hair. Just one stroke per area is sufficient. I start with the cheeks and work my way inwards. The chin is last. The rinsing is done with cold water and to finish up, I spread only a small amount of after shave. I don’t believe in being masochistic and having an alcohol based after shave applied. I currently am using a sandalwood based balm that finishes off a very satisfying shave.

Gone are the days when I used to think that shaving was as bad as flossing. I now look forward to my shaving ritual daily. Try it, maybe you will too.

Superman Does Not Wear Prada

What is it with our superheroes? Especially the big three. Why do they all have to wear tights? None of them would stand a chance working for a fashion magazine such as the fictitious Runway of “The Devil Wears Prada.” Superman probably won’t even get past the security in the lobby. I mean, this is a superhero who we revere as a god and he wears his underwear outside his clothes. We should be grateful his creators didn’t make him wear a red thong instead.

Even if Superman wore Prada or one of the more in-vogue labels like Marc Jacobs or Marni, it could not have saved the calamitous “Superman Returns” for me. For the first time since 1999’s “Titus,” I walked out of a movie. Forty-five minutes of shoddy screenplay and unbelievably bad acting later, a gentle touch was all that I needed to get my wife to accompany me out of the theater. The timing was perfect for us to sneak into a showing of Meryl Streep’s latest. And boy did that movie save the day or what.
(Read more…)

Wardrobe Malfunctions

Carol Gracias

It’s not just Janet Jackson who gets to “participate” in wardrobe malfunctions. There was no sign of Justin Timberlake in Mumbai when two models had issues with their wardrobe in a fashion show. First, model Carol Gracias’s (pictured) top slipped exposing her breasts for a brief while before she covered them up and then model Gauhar Khan’s (a former Miss India) skirt zip split revealing her behind to those in the audience. The photographers present were only too happy to oblige.

The two incidents were just too much for the always culturally aware Shiv Sena and other Mumbai politicos. Investigations have been launched.



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