The Chasing Iamb

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It struck me last week that I have not had a girls' night out in five years. Bunch of girls... shopping... coffee shops... pure helium quality giggling? No, not in five years. And today straight out of nowhere, came a perfect specimen. L, the Princess of Bela-Rus and I went shoe-shopping. I bought three pairs and threatened to buy more.

Then we had a four-hour bitch session. All the while, I suspect, L, the Princess and I were each secretly wondering how the hell this had happened. We each are such tight-assed misanthropes in our own Delhi-hating way. It was incredible to lay off the irony and just have fun. I don't think I have felt this light in a year. Perhaps I don't only love gay men after all.

PS. All the time I was writing this post I continue to feel the terror of being girly. I hate Ms. Bradshaw for making this so difficult. But The Princess says that when she knew me at 21 I was super-girly. Really? I don't remember. Some degree of insanity I do remember. I went to college in Pune in the summer in just a orange, very brief cotton slip one sunny afternoon. I was very popular that day. It didn't occur to me for years that I must have been temporarily nuts.

But today, I bought a pair of high heels after years. Yes, yes they are pink. Diana Vreeland was right when she said pink is the navy blue of India. But she was even more right when she said narcissism was wrong and that vanity was wonderful. Yo, go out and buy a pair of pink high heels.