It isn’t tough to pooh-pooh high-fashion in Manhattan if comfort tops the charts in your priority list
MANHATTAN IS a place that features in nearly every Karan Johar movie, at some time or the other. It’s either a melodramatic scene with the famous Brooklyn Bridge as backdrop, or a romantic song on the Manhattan Bridge, a sentimental journey under the skyscrapers, or the actors getting lost in the crowd of the city that never sleeps.
Sarang, my husband, never liked the place, but he never liked taking me around in Mussoorie (Uttarakhand), his hometown — and his favourite place in the world — either. But maybe that was because he was so used to living in these places. I got a chance to stay in Jersey City for six months, and later living in a Tri State Area and 90 minutes away from the New York City, a visit to brother-in-law’s place once a month made us roam about the most famous Time Square and get lost in the crowd from all over the world.
The first visit to Manhattan will mesmerise you and all you will do it walk, and walk some more to figure out the routes with a GPS or a map. (Did I also tell you this is the city where people walk and walk and walk?). The hustle-bustle, fashion parade, movie stars walking past, stretch limousines, diverse ethnicity, and the lights and the brightness will leave you overwhelmed. And soon, your parents, friends and siblings will get used to you gushing about the city and its many delights over the phone, through WhatsApp, Facebook, and what have you.
It will also remain you most cherished tourist experience. Things change when you start staying in or around the city and see it more closely, however. With time, your nose will rebel at the constant smell of urine at the Subway, and the hawkers and vendors on the streets selling fake handbags, or food items such as fruits, juices, kebabs, and pretzels will remind you of just another pavement market in India.
The pushy sales guy forcing you to buy tickets of some comedy show, and how can I not mention the ubiquitous yellow taxis of New York City, which always remind me of my reckless driving in India and how everybody else learns to drive like a cab-wala in India. The taxi drivers in New York seem to have spent some time of their lives in India for they drive as any Indian in India would.
Even average New Yorkers love to be considered fashionistas, and so, they do all they can to be called one. A slight drop in the temperature and out they come – stylish coats, scarves and fashionable boots. Not surprisingly, you get to see some skin even in sub-zero temperatures, if you happen to be at a place where your image would go down if you are not dressed as one of them. So what if your heels are killing your feet, and who cares if you have to walk several blocks in the City each way, and it’s all right if the cold threatens to give you pneumonia. It’s all fair when it comes to keeping and guarding the fashionista title.
Since all women love their hoops and loops, and pretty necklaces, they wear them even if they can’t carry them off well, or would look much, much nicer with a pair of studs, say. Accessories look great and I love to collect them, too, but somehow being comfortable for me now is more important than looking stylish — or foolish.
The city has its own charm, however. No matter how many times you have been here, but when you are back amidst the chaos after being away to a quiet, peaceful and green suburb, coming back home always makes you feel better. For many, this is the only place they would rather call home.
It’s a little different for us, though. My husband and I can only be occasional lovers of the noise, the people, the high fashion shows, the food and a great stroll at the Times Square. Most times, it only reminds me of Gurgaon back home, which I call the next Manhattan for its contrasting features — just like it is in Manhattan.