Lakme Fashion Week: A glamourous circus

So Lakme Fashion Week is finally over and I have heaved my sighs of relief, had my long-overdue weekend and returned to work, glad that it doesn’t involve another designer outfit or impossibly perfect model.

I can also now look back at the excesses that I was buried under during those five days and take stock of some of the ironies I’ve seen.

One of them is always the model-craze. People seem to think that models are drop-dead gorgeous, sexy, and often, snobs. What I saw, however, was a total contradiction to this theory. Most of them are downright ugly, having lost their youth to too many cigarettes and too much makeup, bony and skinny, and far too attention-seeking to be snobbish. There will always be the leaders of the pack, the ones who are so high up in the pecking order that they can afford to toss their pretty, empty heads at the world and take another dainty sip for their wine glasses (but just one, dah-link…and of course no beer!).
But these are few and far between. Far more common are the lesser known faces who make up for their anonymity with the tiniest of shorts and plunging necklines, making sure their tinkling laughter is heard by all those in the vicinity, and hovering around anyone who has a media card. While they are too proud to ask to be interviewed, their intentions are more than clear when suddenly develop an interest in you after seeing you interview another model.

Then there are the celebrities that never fail to make an appearance at the Fashion Week. Perfectly made up faces that reveal very real flaws when you see them up-close scream out their status of being a has-been. But the media, oblivious to the obvious, will scamper up to them, begging for a sound bite, falling over themselves and other media persons in the hope of that perfect smile, delivered charmingly with a one-liner. Of course, these celebs are at an advantage, having rehearsed most of their lines at home, right from the origins of their outfits, to the state of Indian politics.
On the fringes of this activity, side-lined by the commotion and chaos these stars of the yesteryears are creating, are who should have been the real stars of the day. The young models, many of whom are walking for Lakme Fashion Week for the first time. Fresh-faced young ‘uns who haven’t lost their looks yet, enthusiastic, eager to do their best, with heads that aren’t yet swollen with a misplaced sense of importance . But nobody pays them any attention- after all; they haven’t carved a name for themselves yet.
Fair enough- but need we fawn over those who should have retired ten years ago either? So while these young girls and boys watch from the periphery of the action, we choose to pay homage to Preity Zinta’s huge dark circles (that even a kilo of concealer fails to hide) and flabby arms, or Naomi Campbell’s most unremarkable looks, instead of the young lissome lady with never-ending legs standing right beside them.
Ah, it’s the tussle between fame and beauty again- and guess who wins every time!

And then there are the fashion shows themselves. A total flood of outfits, enough to clothe the average young women for a lifetime! Most of them ugly, nearly all unwearable. And the bigger the designer, the more flamboyant his designs, the less wearable his creations, and the more outrageously priced. That’s the privilege of an established designer. He can create a dress made entirely out of feathers, with a huge butterfly perched upon the model’s breast, finished with light bulbs twinkling all over her- and the audience will hoot and applaud loudly, though none of the women clapping would be caught dead in such a hideous number!

While we all enjoy the flamboyance, we are forced to ask, isn’t the point of fashion to create something people can actually wear, and be seen in? Isn’t the point of a fashion show to showcase creations that actually make you want to buy them? Isn’t the point of a model to be, first and foremost, pretty, before all other things? And isn’t the point of getting new talent on the ramp to discover them?

Ah, well, the Lakme Fashion Week has earned itself a reputation- who are we to question it?
Ours is simply to watch and take with a pinch of salt the circus we see.