[man-i-kin]
ɪ
In Bombay for a three-day weekend, I’d decided to make full use of the opportunity to shop my way to being a penniless pauper, brought to ruin by discount sales. I took my spirited mother along, promising her a fattening lunch after the spree.
We hadn’t bought much when we got to Lifestyle—I’d been prevented from buying three pairs of shoes by feet that were far too large. We spent a while looking admiringly at sarees that were too expensive and salwar suits that could look good only on mannequins, and then wandered into the Men’s section. After debating on a dignified Allen Solly for a bit, we decided to scour our surroundings.
Peering at the piles, I decided I didn’t like too much. While thinking I'd give the section a last chance, I was looking around cursorily, when I stopped suddenly. I was very, very distracted by a mannequin sitting atop a clothes rack. His royal-blue shirt had its sleeves rolled halfway to the elbow, and he stood with his hands behind him, in polite deference. His greatest asset, however, were a particularly fine set of shoulders- they were broad, of the perfect width, and remarkably straight. They made him the most attractive thing in the Men’s section, despite being headless.
With a start, I realized that my jaw had dropped open, and I reluctantly tore my eyes away. Turning, I saw my mom watching me in amusement. As I lifted my chin defiantly, she said, grinning, “Oh, I can see what you see.. that’s one fine mannequin!” I stared at her, surprised, and looking around, caught the eye of another girl who gave me a knowing smile. Apparently, the mannequin had an adoring audience that went beyond just me and my mom. While others were coyer and much much more subtle than I was, I gave myself 30 more seconds of ogling and then tried to convince my mom that my wanting to buy the blue shirt was in no way influenced by his very manly shoulders.
I left the store without the shirt, at the side a very amused mother, and with the realization that a headless, bottomless statue had held me fancifully captive for a full fifteen minutes. Life was sometimes reminiscent of an Axe ad.
We hadn’t bought much when we got to Lifestyle—I’d been prevented from buying three pairs of shoes by feet that were far too large. We spent a while looking admiringly at sarees that were too expensive and salwar suits that could look good only on mannequins, and then wandered into the Men’s section. After debating on a dignified Allen Solly for a bit, we decided to scour our surroundings.
Peering at the piles, I decided I didn’t like too much. While thinking I'd give the section a last chance, I was looking around cursorily, when I stopped suddenly. I was very, very distracted by a mannequin sitting atop a clothes rack. His royal-blue shirt had its sleeves rolled halfway to the elbow, and he stood with his hands behind him, in polite deference. His greatest asset, however, were a particularly fine set of shoulders- they were broad, of the perfect width, and remarkably straight. They made him the most attractive thing in the Men’s section, despite being headless.
With a start, I realized that my jaw had dropped open, and I reluctantly tore my eyes away. Turning, I saw my mom watching me in amusement. As I lifted my chin defiantly, she said, grinning, “Oh, I can see what you see.. that’s one fine mannequin!” I stared at her, surprised, and looking around, caught the eye of another girl who gave me a knowing smile. Apparently, the mannequin had an adoring audience that went beyond just me and my mom. While others were coyer and much much more subtle than I was, I gave myself 30 more seconds of ogling and then tried to convince my mom that my wanting to buy the blue shirt was in no way influenced by his very manly shoulders.
I left the store without the shirt, at the side a very amused mother, and with the realization that a headless, bottomless statue had held me fancifully captive for a full fifteen minutes. Life was sometimes reminiscent of an Axe ad.
posted by A at 12:41 AM
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