Ms AUGUST 19, 2012
Inside en vogue Pret-ty as a picture
domestic goddess — Taste the smoothness
ISSUE NO. 9
hottie of the week -
What men really want you to wear page How one intern almost brought down a company
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Send your feedback to women@tribune.com.pk
Daniyal Mueenuddin
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Men Women
the buzz
What
Want to Wear
by Zurain Imam
A fashion journalist and social commentator who has contributed to various international publications including The Washington Times (Style Section), Harper’s Bazaar and The Seattle Times.
Ask most guys what they like to see on a woman, and they’ll probably joke: “Nothing!” But men are known to be the ‘visual gender’ and not only do they notice what women are wearing but also draw conclusions about you from how you dress. I think most men develop a life-long liking for a certain type of dressing in a woman after a seismically sartorial moment in their adolescence. It could be a boy who watched his mother apply scarlet lipstick and cat eyes in the 60s, or a teenager who caught a glimpse of a saree-clad siren. While I may prefer women in no-frills undies because they reveal a confident woman who knows how to let her body speak for itself (think Jennifer Aniston , Gisele and Kate Moss), some of my more testosterone-driven amigos salivate over Victoria’s Secret lingerie replete with frou-frou paraphernalia, towering heels and mini-dresses. Every man is different, and so are his preferences. Then what is it that men actually want to see women wearing? While women are inclined to cover up what they perceive as their less-than-perfect bodies, men don’t see women nearly as critically. Women may see a tummy and thighs they wish were firmer, but a man will see a woman that he’s crazy about! Apart from speaking to some high profile male designers and fashion industry wallahs, The Express Tribune also polled about a dozen men aged between 22 and 55. Unsurprisingly, all the men questioned had one thing in common — their fondness for clothing that accentuates the female shape, lines which complement the contours of a woman’s frame, revealing to the eye a truly feminine form.
What men like to see women wearing: ‘Fitted’ was a word generously used — with pencil skirts, tight jeans and bodyhugging dresses all favourites. Men like to see that there is a body under there, even if it’s not perfect. It all goes back to playing up one’s assets. Belted dresses and jumpsuits were also popular choices, while churidaar pajamas and tunics nipped at the waist were deemed appealing for the workplace.
All the men agreed that the classic ssic black dress ress — albeitt fitted — was a good choice.
What men DON’T want women to wear: Those massive androgynous us flip flops with toe wells and the oddly ly popular Gladiator sandals modeled after the ones worn by Biblical heroes.
Clothing that got the big ‘no no’ from our panel included smocks and tunics, anything that smacks of a muumuu and, in general, any long, unconstructed tent-like garment that hides, camouflages, or shrouds, which many men thought made a woman look pregnant.
Casualwear favourites were again figure-hugging with skinny jeans being popular — but only if they were coupled with heels or kneehigh boots. Simple vests were also a hit, while tops with necklines that reveal the décolletage were favoured — especially strapless, bandeau numbers V-necks. and V necks.
The footwear of choice was the high-heeled court shoe. Heels create height and, more importantly, a flattering wiggle to a woman’s walk. Toe shapes were a sensitive subject with the panel. Many of the men questioned were not in favour of the dangerously pointy stiletto-type shoe nor did they share any fondness for the round-toe shape of seasons past. A compromise between the two — which, in the fashion world, is regarded as the ‘almond’ toe — was favoured. Short skirts were also, unsurprisingly, a crowd pleaser. Some men cited seductive underwear as a party-pleaser. Some of the married men felt that the comforts of a long-term relationship had lulled their partners into giving up their lacy push-up bras for the comfort and support of stodgy undies. So go out and buy some fun lingerie and get a little gussied up every now and then; no one has to see it but your partner in the privacy of your own home.
THE EXPRESS TRIBUNE, AUGUST 19, 2012
I would add a smile to the equation. There’s nothing attractive about a scowling sourpuss, even if she is wearing a short skirt, a plunging neckline and high heels.
As far as jewellery goes, there were some clear favourites. Some men said they liked the wedding ring on their wives’ fingers, some of which matched their own. Artistic silver ankle bracelets or anklets were commonly considered sexy as were hoop earrings and delicate diametre necklaces of the type that sit very close to the top of the chest or bottom of the neck and are embellished with stones.
Oversized Jackie O shades were considered “ridiculous.”
Baggy, androgynous trousers and denim were considered too masculine in many cases. Capri-pants looked stupid in a mistakenlyshrunk-in-the-wash way. Wearing too much makeup was cited as a huge mistake. We all know that woman who cakes it on — smoky eyes, red lips and bronzer all at the same time. And we all know what we think of her! A little bit of make-up goes a long way. Sure, even out the skin tone and use a little under-eye concealer, but really to cover your face in paint just seems unreasonable. No man I’ve ever met would prefer a woman with a tonne of make-up. In fact, many say women are at their most attractive when they’re a bit undone.
A man likes a woman to look hot if she is his girlfriend; cute if she is his sister; graceful if she is his mother and sultry if she is his wife. Men know best how a woman needs to dress because men fantasise about women all the time! — Anonymous 45-year-old educationist and retired Army Major
THE EXPRESS TRIBUNE, AUGUST 19, 2012
What’s on a man’s mind?
WHAT A WOMAN’S OUTFIT REALLY SAYS TO MEMBERS OF THE VISUALLY-DRIVEN AND NOT-SO-FASHION-SAVVY SEX (MEN!)
In my mind, logo overload screams: “Let’s go shopping!” Many women carry their LV totes, Hermès Birkins or Chanel chain-bags like part of their anatomy. But there is nothing less appealing than having an oversized designer name splayed across your chest or hooked pretentiously on your arm. Men interpret a woman’s need to announce the ‘fabulousness’ of her stuff as “insecurity or plain ugly shallowness”. “If labels are a woman’s priority, she’s completely lost me,” says Aamir, 22. “When I notice designer tags on a woman, I personally worry about my credit card balance should we actually get together. If the only gift I can afford from her favourite label is a key chain, her birthday isn’t going to be any fun for either of us.”
Most men believe that skyhigh heels suggest a woman is “high-maintenance”. Women tell me that stilettos make them feel powerful and emboldened. But when you teeter on your tiptoes with only a thin six-inch bar to balance on, it begs the question: How much fun can you be having standing in one place looking, yes, va-va-voom — but precariously balanced? Tariq, 29, agrees: “The entire time my wife is walking, I’m thinking: Is she going to twist her ankle, and am I going to have to spend all night with her in the emergency room?”
Revealing clothes announce to me that a woman might wear sequin capris to my dadi’s funeral! Don’t get me wrong, I find sexy clothes appealing — but the milieu and context is all-important. If a prospective date dresses in a Pampers-sized mini for a GT with my work colleagues, I would wonder about her judgment and imagine myself needing to cover her up at a prospective Eid dinner with my family. Yes, that vamp in the Guess ads looks hot in her cropped cowboy shirt and super-tight jeans. But she also looks like she might run off with the photographer!
Clothes say a lot about a woman’s exposure, lifestyle and confidence. The way she wears her hair and make-up says a lot about her sense of style and sophistication. Her choice of fragrance and pair of heels say a lot about her personality and taste. These days, everyone has a ‘designer bag’, original or fake — so big deal! — Usman Dittu, womenswear designer
I love to see women wearing blazer suits and a button-down shirt. I think there’s just something extremely hot about a woman who knows how to carry ‘power dressing’ in a feminine way. I also like to see a woman wearing a man’s dress shirt or T-shirt. The clothes that I like to see women wearing represent power, authority, and elegance, yet still maintain an air of femininity and seduction. These women are subtle in their moves and extremely smart. They know how to command any situation or milieu without being in your face. — Munib Nawaz, menswear designer
Red lipstick signals a woman who is self-assured and empowered. Red lips are a sign of strength, prowess and assertion. Consider Jean Harlow’s red pout in the 1930s, Veronica Lake’s in the 1940s and Marilyn Monroe’s in the 1950s. None of these actresses was known for playing the girlish ingénue. They were women with overtly feminine power. They were knowing. Dressing your lips in red draws people’s attention to you, especially your mouth, and subsequently, the words that come out of it.
In conclusion, when I like a woman I like every inch of her. I also want her to like herself. So if she wears a cluster of fabric that obscures her shape, I worry that she may be ashamed of herself — her beautiful, natural, perfectly flawed self. Former Vogue Paris editor Carine Roitfeld has said that she hates perfection and, when casting for fashion editorials always looked for models with some flaw. Twenty-two year-old Aamir is with me on this one as well. “The most beautiful thing about a woman is her body, its silhouette and lines,” he says. “Don’t put a sack over them!” Having said that, one woman can wear a slinky halter-dress and look self-conscious in it, and another can totally rock a voluminous trapeze dress like it’s her second skin. At the end of the day, a woman is going to look her best in something she feels good in, which is the most important point of all: If you’re comfortable in your skin, in your body, you’re on a winning streak. Any messages I or any man might read into your clothes can be superseded by a smile, an inner glow, a canny coolness and poise that says, “I don’t really care what you think, Zurain, I love this outfit.” Chances are then, I probably will as well…
I like to see women in high heels but a maximum of 4 inches; anything over that looks weird! Backless and sleeveless clothes are adventurous options, but I prefer an elegant silhouette with minimalist design. A perfect formfitted gown is a big turnon for me. I hate women in jumpsuits although they are on-trend these days! Minimal make-up with lighter shades of lipstick and a bit of contouring does it for me. Excessive foundation and overly experimental hairstyles on women are major turnoffs. Less is more! —Arsalan Iqbal of Arsalan & Yahseer, fashion designer
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funny business
THE EXPRESS TRIBUNE, AUGUST 19, 2012
Redefining Stupid by Employee of the Month
A fresh graduate’s initiation into the corporate world
Warning: Portion of this article may cause readers to experience severe urges to facepalm themselves. To avoid bruising and/or concussions, please do not continue reading.
a r e u a r e LLAA u o o yy
I wouldn’t define myself as ‘stupid’ but recent events have forced me to question my claims of sanity and consider the idea of stamping the word across my face. After graduation, I wisely opted to wiggle my toes in faded oversized pink bunny slippers while my fellow graduates strutted around in kitten heels (monkey suits for the boys). I was quite content dreaming the dream, rather than living it. However, a call from my university’s nosy placement office on a lazy Tuesday afternoon seemed like the sound of the first domino falling. My university wanted to ensure that unemployed-disappointments knew (and verbally admitted) that they were a waste of space. As if this message wasn’t reinforced every day. Now the nightmare of ending up at school in your underwear was quickly replaced by one where I ended up at the graduation without a job. The defense mechanism kicked in and the CV spammer in me rose to the occasion. While a few companies wrote back annoyed e-mails, others simply exercised their blocking rights. Fate, or whatever equivalent we soul-less materialists believe in, finally led me to a small cubicle in an even smaller company — as an intern. But that last detail was conveniently left out. My professional ambition in life, at least for those six weeks was to make it to my desk before my boss the ‘Drama Queen’ made it to hers — which was mostly around noon. I managed to make it the entire first week but with time, the task became harder and the snooze button easier to press. The five-minute drive to work was then spent engaged in intense prayers and promises that were forgotten at the sight of her empty parking spot. I tried. Caffeine, hidden alarm clocks and a screaming mother. All failed and all I was left with were new definitions and degrees of stupid. Here they are:
E!!!!!! TTE
Smart: What you think of yourself as you crawl back into bed at 7am after gulping down a big mug of coffee convinced that the caffeine will work its magic and effortlessly pull you out of bed fifteen minutes later. (See: Clever)
Smart-ass: What you realise you really are when the caffeine finally kicks in at 11am. (Also see: Super late) Just plain stupid: Dozing off while waiting for your wake up beverage to cool down a bit. (See: reflection in mirror)
But my bright ideas aside, human resources seemed to have a better one. They installed a face recognition attendance system which not only told me I was late but also captured how horrible I looked every morning. Hoping to gain some sympathy from my own mother, I whined about cruel labour laws, the 9-5 timings, and the harsh no-La-Z-Boy-chair working conditions. Things didn’t go exactly as planned. My mother’s sympathy was restricted. Her sense of humour — not so much. “Just be careful, sweetheart,” she chuckled. “If you actually show up at work with your face washed and hair brushed,
THE EXPRESS TRIBUNE, AUGUST 19, 2012
they might refuse to let you in.” I learnt a couple of other things over the span of the next six weeks apart from the fact that my mother had been right. The guard had to let me in, the day I washed my face, but not before I insisted I worked there and managed to pull out a crumpled business card. Other skills I picked up included implementing Dilbert’s look-busy expertise and tab-switching that would put a Ninja to shame. I soon realised that my corporate future and my boss’s sanity hung by a thread that was endangered by my new found blondness. Here is my trininity of work boo-boos:
Strike 1 — Setting up a meeting in the wrong city. Now clueless coworker should be partially blamed for this one but here’s how the conversation went: Client: “So we’ll see you at ten?” Smart me: “Yes. We’ll be there. You’ll be at the II Chundrigar branch?” Client: “No. Gulberg. You’ve seen Pizza Hut next to the Chowrangi?” Not-So-Smart-Anymore-Me: “Yes, yes. Of course, I have!” *slightly confused but confident that Google maps and coworkers will help me out* Client: “Great, it’s the grey building on the tenth floor.” Me: “We’ll see you in 30 minutes!” So I turned around to the clueless coworker and asked him if he knew where Gulberg was — to which he replied “That’s really far. We should leave right now if we want to be there on time.” In retrospect, his answers always make me feel like the smart one and do function as instant ego-boosters. Annoyed-smart me: “Yes, but do you know where it is?” Clueless coworker: “Even further away from Nazimabad. We should Google it.” Our Googling skills told us that Gulberg was in a completely different city altogether.
Strike 2 — Messing up names and muffled giggles This really taught me the importance of caffeine on a Monday morning and practicing “This is Sara* calling from The Company” before calling up potential clients. Messing up the order (The Company calling from Sara) and muffled giggles doesn’t exactly sell it. And so I did what seemed to be the most reasonable thing at the time. I hung up. Fortunately, when the client called back to inquire, it wasn’t my boss but another superior he got through to. I spent the rest of the day in search of a paper bag and then resorted to hiding behind the junk that had piled up on my desk.
Strike 3 — Forgetting the name of ..... The worst incident was running into a college professor who I admired and looked up to and who, after that meeting, thought that I was the biggest and (to a good degree) the worst liar in the world. That, or I truly made him question the quality of graduates his school was producing. I introduced myself and told him I was a graduate of his school — the only smart thing I said throughout our conversation. Then, as any professor would, he asked if I was working somewhere? I managed to choke an inaudible “yes”. The next question was simple and yet my star-struck brain, couldn’t recall the company’s name I had been working at for the past six weeks. For 30 seconds, I just silently stared at him while my grey cells struggled to locate this precious piece of information. And then I said the dumbest thing ever. “Err… wait ... it’s at the back of my mind somewhere.” He smiled an awkward smile and took a step forward while I mentally smacked myself with a boot.
My first mistake was forgivable. But the second one almost cost the company a client. The third stole my dignity or whatever was left of it anyway. With the probation period coming to an end, I was due for a review. Turned out, I didn’t need a competitive backstabbing coworker to prove I wasn’t fit for the job; I was taking care of that myself. I tried to point out that I had single-handedly managed what was clearly a two-person job but they wouldn’t listen. The paper bag is yet to come off. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go tell the finance department to transfer my next paycheck directly to my therapist’s account.
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en vogue
THE EXPRESS TRIBUNE, AUGUST 19, 2012
Pret-ty as
a picture
Stylist: Ehtesham Photographer: Humayun @ Amean J Model: Amna Ilyas Brand: M Street by MP Available at: Shop no. 4, Ground floor, Lane 4, Shahbaz Commercial Area, Phase 6 Contact: Mishal Peshimam (03333785117)
domestic goddess 7
THE EXPRESS TRIBUNE, AUGUST 19, 2012
recipe
Mango smoothie ingredients For smoothie
Mango pulp 1/2 cup Peach pulp 1/2 cup Honey 1 tbsp Milk 1/2 cup Yoghurt 1/2 cup Ice cubes 05 For cherry puree
Cherries (black or red) 10 Honey 1 tsp
method
1. Blend mangoes, peaches, milk, sugar, yoghurt and ice cubes until smooth. 2. In a separate bowl, blend the cherry pulp and sugar together. 3. Pour cherry puree in glass and then pour smoothie carefully. 4. Garnish glass with peaches and cherries.
Chef Shabbir at the Royal Palm whips up a cool smooth drink for summer.
THE EXPRESS TRIBUNE, AUGUST 19, 2012
hottie of the week 8 Status Born
Married to Cecilie Brenden
United States
Birthday
1963
Face
80%
Who is he? With his salt and pepper hair and that intelligent half-smile; Mueenuddin looks like Richard Gere’s younger brother, but he has one of the most exciting voices in the current crop of Pakistani writers of English fiction. Born to a Pakistani father and an American mother, this short story writer lived in Pakistan till he was 13. And his experiences on his father’s family farm in South Punjab such as hunting ducks and partridges or frequenting Fort Derewar and Thar Desert formed much of the inspiration behind his Pulitzer Prize Finalist In Other Room, Other Wonders.
Body
70%
Why we’re crushing on him What’s not to love about a man who can express himself so eloquently and lyrically? We can only wonder what a love letter from this writer would read like. Mueenuddin happens to be a landlord ... but he’s no typical ‘saaien’. After he graduated from Dartmouth, his ailing father asked him to return to Pakistan and rescue the family farm. Like a true family man, this self-proclaimed “farm manager”, came back and revolutionised the system with bonuses and higher salaries for the farmers — and eventually got everything back on track.
What you didn’t know about him
Talent
85%
Total Package
78%
This Yale graduate is so committed to his art that he gave up his “unsatisfying” job as a corporate lawyer at a top notch NY firm and picked up the pen instead.
Daniyal Mueenuddin