I'm An Insta-Girl, In An Insta-World - Part 2

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Sunday, 4 December 2017

What a wasted Sunday! Sarah Shafi’s Harvey Nichols brunch? More like Debenham’s, frankly. Nisa — bloody pithoo —  claims Sarah spent forty bloody lakhs putting the whole bloody debacle together. Itni lut and no dessert table, no imported flowers, no giveaways even!? That could only mean one of three things — a) Sarah is a kanjoos makhichoos, b) Nisa is a total chaddoo, or c) Sarah was seriously swindled. My money’s on A and B, but I need to know what Mona and Mani think first. 

I just wish I hadn’t worn my new Zozo Kakar jora. The husband suggested I wear it to Talia’s chai next week. Like, repeat the outfit. Wear. It. Again. As if that troll, Fatoo, and her oaf of a sister would ever let me live it down. I will not be outclassed by some corrupt minister ki churail betiyan — I am an industrialist’s son’s first wife!

Tuesday, 6 December 2017

OMG, Xaina just called. That little sneak snuck into Sakina’s cellphone, snapped screenshots of her super-highbrow Diamonds & Divas guest list, and sent them to our secret Whatsapp group. It’s only the first eight pages — Xaina’s always been a little slow — and our names are missing, but they’re probably just further down the list…I mean, shit, we did dance at the same wedding four years ago AND we’re in the same group photos…

Khair, I sent her a Facebook friend request last night. Let’s see what happens. 

Friday, 9 December 2017

Waisay, this city has seriously changed. Before social media, we were living in the stoned ages. Like, when Daddy bought me my first LV tote, these aaj kal ki “fashionistas” didn’t have a clue about brands. It was all about tacky low-rise jeans and behuda belts. Now? All of them act like Christian Louboutin is their saggi phuphi ka beta.

Good thing I’m not the competition type. Mein tou kehti hoon, wear your Sophia Webster jootis, wrap those claws around them Judith Lieber clutches, float around in those cavernous kaftans and, by all means, vacuum-pack your lothras into those Cavalli dresses. Just live and let die, yaar!

Sunday, 11 December 2017

Ufff, Amal is getting on my every nerves these days. Mismatched foundation, ghaas jaisay baal, Medora ki nail polish, lekin, suddenly, she’s all over Insta as some sort of blogger/ designer. I don’t know who buys those paindoo productions, but I’ve heard she’s dhara dhar minting money. FFS! Anyone can set up a darzi-adda operation in a servant quarter and hire karigars from Ichra to make birds and phool-bootas on synthetic chiffon.

Whatever. I’ve never had time for pettiness and now tou Im tied up to my ankles my own exclusive, high-end, luxury pret line of hand-cut, hand-stitched, hand-made, hand-packed hand-socks. “Gloves” just doesn’t sound glam enough — too much of a Punjab Club waiter vibe…

Wednesday, 14 December 2017

Uncle Pappoo, the one who does dum and istikhara type business for Mama and her friends, popped in for chai. What a remarkable man, waisay. Imagine, there was a time when he was just an ordinary palmist roaming Liberty Market. Qaboo-fying those jinns totally upped his game, though. Like, now, he only makes house calls. 

So, he was dropping off a new taweez for Mama to help control the nokars and her allergies — poor thing lost the last one trying to wrestle a Sialkoti bhains for a jora at some lawn sale. Obviously, it was caught on camera and splashed all over FB and she was absolutely mortified, but,let’s be real, she won that thing fair and square. And there’s no such thing as bad publicity. 

Khair, guess what he told Mama!

Aunty Farro hosted a dars yesterday and he saw her khuss-pussing with Aunty Gullo about Aunty Minnie calling off her daughter’s wedding with Aunty Choochi’s son! After the churi-mehndi, and Holi night, and the Sangeet, and the Principals & School Girls party. 

Word is, the boy’s passport isn’t as blue as they claimed. Poor git is still stuck with just a green card. I can't believe that materialistic meesni, Minnie, was actually offended that Choochi, the cheap churail, served her thandi chai in some horrendous Thailand ka bunna 
hua tea-set. 

Frankly, I always knew that jori was doomed, but I’m not one to gossip. I mean, korma is a bitch, right? 

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