BUSHY TALES

She hadn’t done it in months. Her friend was on the same boat. Both were undeniably bushy but with still a bit of form although not well sculpted forms like the other ladies, but they weren’t particularly bothered about their bushes.  It’s not like there hadn’t been cases of bushiness before.

She remembered an old friend who had long relocated to Ireland after heeding the call of a much greener pasture than the Garden City could offer. N’s colleague then tactlessly remarked how one shouldn’t be caught dead with a bush and wagged his finger at her. It went on for days, this badgering, until my dear old friend went for a trim to a put a stop to the droning in her ear. Trust a closet queen to be overly concerned with bushes! There was another former friend – she was a fair weather friend – who was also slightly self-conscious and would have sooner placed a paper bag on her head. She was bushy! How ghastly is that?!!?

But a bush can always be pared down to achieve a sense of aesthetic order. The tragedy lies in the startling aftereffect of the pared bush. She noticed this one mid-morning as she cooled her heels on a comfy seat at Marvelous Cream, savoring every bit of her Chocó Ban Mille.  Through the glass panel, one beautifully made up woman glanced her way haughtily as she sauntered out of the mall.

“Jeez, someone got off the wrong side of the bed today,” she mumbled under her breath.

Another made like a ramp model at the entrance of 313@Somerset – her mien slightly different from the first one. She looked miffed, hungry and bored. Then the two women she walked passed by in front of Grand Hyatt earlier in the morning – thick foundation contrasting greatly with their true complexions – strutted across her mind. Same salon look, different bearings though. One had a permanent scowl on her forehead while the other was more forlorn, almost catatonic as she stomped on the pavement around 8ish in the morning.

Scooping the last her chocolaty treat, another figure walked by the glass panel. Trimmed and tweaked, this one looked like she had gazed into Medusa’s eyes.

They – she and a friend – had something that trumped a well-manicured bush although it is, undeniably, a plus point if it’s trimmed and tweaked. Dancing eyes, shining eyes never fail to light up the face compared to dull, blank and glassy eyes under perfectly shaped eyebrows.  It’s really all a matter of aesthetic balance: flawlessly threaded eyebrows go well with a vivacious and glowing expression.

“Thank the universe for the adroit ladies of Rupini’s!” she told herself.  “Now, Japanese or Italian for lunch? Hmmm…”

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