I’m not a very big fan of beauty contests and other such events, because what’s the use of drooling over a million beauties when, at the end of the day, you will still walk back home “empty handed” anyway? But January being a “dry” month on the social scene, and February being the official month of love, I somehow found myself drifting off to a few beauty and fashion related events during the nights when there were few options. The problem with fashion and beauty event organizers is that they do not serve solid food at their gigs. Rather, they do something they like to call nibbles. These are small-small bites served at fashion parties and beauty shows that are never enough unless you abduct the waitress and confiscate the entire nibbles tray from her. If it’s chicken, it won’t be those chicken thighs or wings as we know them. It will be chicken slices chopped down to the size of the pavlo and bitunguru that was used to spice it. If the nibbles happen to be brochettes, they could be small to the size of a maggi seasoning cube, not the brochettes we know that are served at the Primus-branded kabali near your home. Then the onions are cut in large chunks almost the size of the brochettes themselves. The brochettes at fashion events always have the biggest chunks of onions in between the meat. Because of this insanely large size, they are usually burnt at the edges and raw in the inside, which renders them completely useless. The eating itself is a very civil affair, and by civil, I mean intimidating. Well dressed young corporates munch delicately at their nyama, and what’s more, you have to juggle the chewing with small nice talk to those around your table. The guys generally act tame and chivalrous, while their female counter parts act coy and tender. At fashion events, everybody that turns up for the event does so wielding a smart phone. Okay; all the ladies show up with smart phones or at least gadgets that closely resemble (or function) like smart phones. So from the time of arrival, the smart phone goes to work. As they walk into the venue, they are typing away. As they walk into the security checkpoint, they are typing away. As they step into the crowd and exchange greetings with the first familiar faces, they are typing away on their smart phones. Interestingly, even those who travel by taxi moto also see reason to openly brandish their smart toys. I have always wondered how it is that some people can actually read a novel while on a speeding bus, even on rugged, pot holed roads; now imagine someone patched on a speeding moto, trying to locate the tiny digits on their phone. And what’s the point of rushing off to attend a fashion show, only for one to spend the entire evening filming the event on their smart phone?
