La Dolce Vita

I couldn’t wait to attack the city of Firenze – a city that I had been longing to visit for the last few years and had not made it to as yet. A few days after I was done tweaking my vacation itinerary; I had to make a sudden decision: Monaco vs. Firence – and I had all of one day to confirm the change. I was truly torn. On one hand, I believed that Monaco was a chance opportunity - to go to a real ball, mingle with European royalty and feel like a modern day princess. So I accepted that offer, and convinced myself that I could visit good ol’ Florence any other time instead. With a heavy heart, I admitted to my mum, who was readying up to play my Florentine guide, that I had chosen otherwise and I told her I was canceling my Florence trip and that she ought to carry on with my little sister.

But something wouldn’t give. And as it unfolds, the Monaco Ball plan got dashed.

How was I lucky, you might wonder, given that I now had neither Monaco nor Florence?

Turns out – I had never gotten down to actually canceling my Florence trip – because I simply couldn’t get myself to do it! So I was extremely happy that Destiny had Her way and I was going to make it after all…

So here we were, super-cruised out, looking like first-time travellers, each with a suitcase larger than the other, in a continent, not known for porters or hired help. And in the sweltering sun, at the brink of summer heat, looking for a certain Palazzo Tolomei in Florence. Now thoroughly tired, thirsty, hungry and in desperate need of the bathroom, we found ourselves standing in a lovely (and lively) side street, trying to gracefully lug our beasts of burdens (or “hudpas” as we say in Marathi), off the cab and on to the side walk trying our best not to attract too many eyeballs. With no sign in place, we weren’t sure if we are the right address. We were booked to stay at Palazzo Tolomei, which wasn’t exactly a hotel, nor was it an inn, it was meant to be a converted Florentine home/city estate.

We enter the courtyard through the iron grill and are greeted by a tiny, young lady, who turns out to be the girl on the other side of the emails. “Ahh, so we are at the right place!” I thought. She looks at the 3 of us and breaks into her Italian-english, that she is Chiara, and is expecting us. I ask for a porter and gingerly eye the staircase, wondering if there isn’t an elevator, then taking these bad boys up a flight of old stone steps is definitely going to pose as at least one of the many problems! She jauntily tells us, that she is the help and we will manage the bags in smaller lots, AND there is an elevator, a modern one at that!

So great – lots of good things already and after the herculean task are complete – we walk through a corridor, then a room and then enter the “reception”.

Pause

Stare

Gasp

LO and BEHOLD! The reception is a wonderful, quaint salon, with a ceiling 20 ft high…the room has a beautiful marble fire place, a quaint bar stocked with all the right bottles for an Italian appertivo, a mini-library with books on Florence and Italy and my favourite nook - a tiny alcove with marvelous light – perfect to gather one’s thought or just flip through a newspaper! At this point, I actually started jumping and shouting in absolute delight and glee – hugging my mum and Chiara, as my sister watched me going crazy.

Enter: Daniela, the Lady of the house…she comes in, looks at the 3 of us and just jumps in for the group hug. It is amore at first sight. Daniela who owns this delightful pallazo, runs it almost single-handedly, I was tipped off on this jewel-esque property by my Mumbai buddy (thank you Saj!), who had lived in Florence, during his years as a student of jewelery manufacturing. But I had made the booking, going with a good gut feeling (not to mention, an acute shortage of time) and look how well it had turned out?

In a gush of love,Daniela announced that we could get to choose our room from the 8 rooms in the property and we were led into the first room.

And again:

“Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!” More gushing and gawking and gasping and squealing….”wow wow wow!” I had to pinch myself to believe that we really could stay in this magical pristine, white room on a gigantic four-poster bed, falling asleep under the watchful gaze of the heavenly angels depicted in the original 16^th century fresco that was on the ceiling above?

The room was really some thing out of one’s ralm of imagination – marble floors, fireplace, large windows, not to mention, all the tiny perfect details that Daniela had added to the room.

We saw the other free rooms, each one, so very special, but stuck to the first on this one, on account of its sheer grandness (and proximity to the elevator!)

Daniela’s palazzo continued to delight and surprise…as I continued to venture through the various staircases and inquisitively open all the heavy doors that came my way – I found:

~A dance studio which must have been the original ballroom,

~A fully-functional gym, with all the machines of a normal modern gym – just that here the treadmill was placed near a magnicent David-like marble statue. (Does a girl need more motivation to burn calories now!?)

~A little pantry with the old heavy brass pots and pans,

~A common bathroom, which was the original community toilet for the house staff

To add to the experience, Daniela and my mum turned out to be soul sorelles (soul sisters) and to mark their union, Daniela even organized a special “gift”. It was a boat ride down the Arno, in the traditional riverboat. We saw all of Florence, glittering in the gold light of the setting sun. We listened to Lorenzo, who earnestly translated his father’s (the boatman who was rowing us) words to us the various wonderful structures along the river, whilst sharing little secrets of their marvelous city.

             

As we floated down the river that magical evening, I couldn’t help but be thankful. It was the perfect moment, with the perfect sunset in the perfect city.

Ciao Florence, I shall visit you again…arrividerci. 

In the mood for Love

....and he played the piano.

She listened.
He watched.
She soothed.
He played.
She healed.

They loved.

And what about moi?

I devoured.

And continue to feel warm and flushed, with goosebumps and I tingle at the very thought of the scene from Madonna's movie, W.E, that I watched on board my flight. The scene I was particularly moved by, was when the Russian (dream boat - Oscar Isaac) plays the piano for the tormented and wounded woman, sitting in front of him.
It gives a girl hope (and also lets her build a dream) that this Man does exist. A man who will be there for her to watch her and to protect her. A Man of Honour.

W.E is such a deeply romantic and wonderful movie that simply transported me out of my present reality to another world. I often have to fight myself because I am very old fashioned when it comes to matters of the heart. I shout at myself for this simply because I have to learn that the times have changed and an old-school romance doesn't exist. There is no courtship. The gentleman doesn't waltz with the lady, unless of course, it is right into the bedroom!

Madonna is so, so talented and the world refuses to give this creative force her due credit. This movie directed and co-written by her is another one of her masterpieces and the critical and commercial world slammed to bits. I wonder why it didn't do well commercially as the subject (Duke and Duchess of Windsor) and the theme (romance/drama) is of universal interest. From start to finish, there is not a detail out of place...Madonna-the-perfectionist has spared no means to ensure the styling, the makeup, the sets, the vehicles, the locations, the outfits and the jewelery are perfect. So perfect in fact, that she made sure that the Duchess's renowned collection of jewels (and crucifix charms) were not costume and the legendary jeweler Cartier, re-made them for the movie. (Only to be promptly destroyed, to preserve the value of the originals)

Even the outfits were re-created by fashion houses like Dior and Chanel. The Duchess of Windsor was a great patron of couture and Madonna insisted, along with her award-winning costume director, Arianna Phillips, that there would be no compromise.

All of these efforts would have been redundant, if it were lost on a poor starcast. And wouldn't that have been a shame?

The best part of the movie was the brilliant cast and I would owe this to Madonna herself once again, who made rather astute and bold choices of casting (rather unknown) English actors Andrea Riseborough and James D'Arcy as the lead couple. Not to mention, the smoldering Oscar Isaac (The Russian) and Abbie Cornish (Modern day Wallis) who just became the characters they were playing.

The movie alternates between 2 periods and 2 realities of 2 bright and ambitious American women. In the year 1998, Wallis, a desperately neglected and lonely Manhattan house wife, seems some what crazed and possessed by an important auction held by Sotheby's in New York featuring the prized and precious possessions of the world's most famous romantics. 
King Edward VII, renounced the throne of the British Empire, to marry the woman he loved - Wallis Simpson. A woman loathed and despised by the world for her apparent lack of morals and sly ways to ensnare the world's most desirable and powerful bachelor into her evil trap.

She went on to reinvent herself as an international style icon with a love for haute couture, and famously coined the infamous phrase: 'You can never be too rich or too thin'.

 As tokens of their love and affection, the couple bestowed generous gifts upon another, commissioning what would result in a huge collection of jewels from the sought-after European jewellery houses such as Cartier and Van Cleef and Arpels. Jeanne Toussaint, Cartier's high jewellery director, produced several avant-garde designs for the Duchess such as the onyx and diamond panther bracelet, as well as a colourful flamingo brooch, made from rubies, sapphires, emeralds, citrines and diamonds, both of which are expected to sell for over £1 million each at the auction.

After renouncing the throne and marrying her, they lived in exile, mostly in the South of France. He only returned to his home in 1977, in a box - his coffin. And the only time the world acknowledged her as his wife, was when she was buried next to him in the year 1985.

Going back to 1998 - young Wallis is in a hapless and hopeless marriage and is drawn to this auction firstly because she was somewhat obsessed since birth by W.E; being named after her. She is at a point of deep melancholy in her life and by studying the antique pieces on display, Wallis is trying desperately to come to a conclusion about love and life.

During these long hours spent at the auction house, silent and strong, Evgeni (the Russian), meets her and for some unfathomable reason(lucky girl, I say!)  is drawn to her.

The movie slides through these 2 parallel love stories, often not very smoothly...drawing parallels in the lives and circumstances of these 2 women.

The movie is deeply romantic, as you can tell by my description, with a brilliantly haunting soundtrack composed by Abel Korzeniowski, is so lyrical and powerful in its ultimate message.

The movie tells the tale from the point of view of the Duchess, whose story has remained untold and unheard.

With the pitter-patter on your window pane, grab a cup of hot chocolate, or rather a tall glass of wine, and indulge your senses in this movie...

Lofty Aspirations

Ciao! Ciao!

My fingers are actually like jelly as I type this out...it has been long. Correction -  too long.

No excuse (as usual, you might roll your eyes), but kya karein, everyday I'm shuffling, with no time for blogging!

Imagine the inspirational ambience I have created to get this post out of me...the cure for "writer's block" is to for the troubled writer to seclude himself/herself in a paradisesque place. A beautiful setting, amidst lush green trees, chirping birds, soothing music in the background and with green tea and biscuits just an arm's length away.

That ought to do it.

Hmmm, I think I haven't quite reached this place just as yet. For i find myself at a bright and noisy airport terminal, sure i see the blue, ummm grey sky,in the distance, through the glass facade of the building. instead of birds chirping, I do remain distracted by the buzzing ( and often, squealing) of babies and kids. The laptop balances precariously on my knees and I hope to find a power source very soon before it dies at this blessed moment.

But hey - all is well! Swell in fact because I am on my way to a paradise like vacation...yay. First stop, Venezia for a quick over night stay, where I will be sure to throw in a gondola ride (or two) and a refreshing bevy at the much-herd about, Harry's Bar.

About this bar (thank you, wikipedia!)-

Harry's Bar was opened in 1931 by bartender Giuseppe Cipriani.According to the company history, Harry Pickering—a rich, young Bostonian--had been frequenting Hotel Europa in Venice, where Giuseppe Cipriani was a bartender.When Pickering suddenly stopped coming to the hotel bar, Cipriani asked him why. When Pickering explained that he was broke because his family found out his drinking habits and cut him off financially, Cipriani loaned him 10,000 lire (about $5,000 US).Two years later, Pickering returned to the hotel bar, ordered a drink, and gave Cipriani 50,000 lire in return. "Mr. Cipriani, thank you," he said, according to the Cipriani website. "Here's the money. And to show you my appreciation, here's 40,000 more, enough to open a bar. We will call it Harry's Bar."

On the short flight here (DXB), I started watching W.E and was immersed in it completely...lyrical, poetic, stylish, romantic, great performances...Madonna sure tells the story well. Can't wait to get onto the plane again and finish the rest of the movie.

In other news, I have been deeply moved by the most gorgeous pre and post rain shower skies, Mumbai is experiencing. Last 2 weeks have been divine....here are some of my favorite pictures, courtesy the extremely handy iPhone:

Ok bellas and boys...finally, boarding call. I guess that's me! 

More updates as soon as I can...and this is an order from me to me!

Fantastique

I am one of those lame people, who pretends to be uber healthy - lending the impression of being very selective and particular in my choice of foods. I love to say, "I just had a great run" or "Can you pass me a bag of pumpkin seeds?" and "I am craving a soya tofu burger" .

All of the above is true indeed. I honestly do love things that are bottled, packaged, labeled "ORGANIC" and "BIO". They are usually sold in a recycled material package and look raw and (un)appealing to most! The problem with me is my robust appetite, I eat a lot of the stuff when I eat. Thus kicking away any of the healthy benefits!
But hey - its the endeavor that counts, right?And in some way, I feel like I am doing a good thing not just for my self, but for society at large, by making a healthier choice.

So in keeping with this lifestyle choice, I am a huge proponent of ORGANIC LIVING. Marketers for organic food stuff would have a field day with me, being such a soft target for their wares.
Internationally, organic food has been around a while, and it became fashionable, cool and moralistic to consume some where around 2004. I remember visiting California in 2005 and getting introduced to organic food stuff..There is particularly trendy cafe in L.A called the Urth Cafe that was (and still is) the place to be. Every one around me was perfectly slim, perfectly tan and perfectly blonde - sipping on their ice lattes and organic grain muffins.

I was there for other reasons however - star struck and hopeful (hopeless, more like it!) with the idea of bumping into Vinnie or one of his entourage boys there!

Adrian Grenier celebrating his b'day at the Urth Cafe

Over the years, I have found several hood halls, super markets and street markets that are a real mecca for o-foods. One of my top fav's is the Whole Foods Market...a trip to NYC a few summers ago was had with a daily pit-stop at WF. I ending up spending a lot of  my "shopping money" on quinoa, barley, soy milk shakes, organic strawberries; instead of on  soho fashion delights.
In my time spent in Dubai, no weekend was complete without a mug of the house coffee with carrot cake and Abhijay at the Organic Cafe in Jumeirah. It was a sacred ritual that I miss very often!

When I was working in Paris, I was in an office filled with incredibly tall, skinny and well-heeled fashionistas and if you wanted to make a lunch plan with them, you had to be prepared for a no-salt, no-fuss, bio lunch chez Cojean. (www.cojean.fr)

It was hilarious because the company we worked for had over 2000 employees and a tiny little cafeteria that served hot, good food. Given the supply/demand crisis, the cafeteria was always very full unless you went very early or very late. Instead, we were given restaurant tickets to lunch elsewhere...The 9 euro coupon bought you a few grains of this and a few leaves of that at Cojean versus the 4 course hearty meal one would get at the cafeteria in under 5 euros! Initially, all the tick-tock ladies would be storming towards Cojean but come the harsh winter, those very ladies would be in line, smoking away furiously waiting to enter the humble cafeteria!


In Bombay, I don't get the choice as is available abroad, the concept is still very new and it isn't very interesting for the retailers either. The products are too expensive and the consumers don't have sufficient knowledge to make the organic choice when making a trip to the grocery store. There are some note worthy initiatives like Kavita Mukhi's line of products under the brand, Conscious Foods. She also organises a Famers Market of Fresh Produce in Bandra/Race Course every sunday. This initiative puts the farmers in direct contact with the consumers and eliminates the ruthless middlemen. I think we have already missed the last market for the season, but you can find Conscious Foods products at any big grocery store. (www.farmersmarket.co.in)

 This weekend, I went wild gorging on the yummiest new organic treat - the organic chocolates by Fantasie, Chocolates - Zeba Kohli. I found them to be reminiscent of chocolates by this Swiss chocolatier, Tristan, who specialises in hand made chocolates which people just die for. Operating from one location- a tiny village outside Geneva called Bougy-Villars, the chocolatier is well-known and celebrated amongst the cacoa connoseirs and those "who know". So I was rather pleasantly surprised with Zeba's new offering which was so much like the Tristans in look and taste.

On Sunday, I was trying to explain to my friends just how awesome these chocolates were and my explanation to them went some thing like this, "guys, you got to try these new chocolates by Fantasie. You know the store at Kemps Corner? They have just launched a line or organic chocolates and they're really good....when you open the box and you have them, they are soooo good." They looked at one another and then at me, expecting I had something more to say. Did the story go anywhere? All I could muster was, "They are good. Verrrry Good"
Sure enough,  I was ridiculed for my lack of articulation and clearly didn't successfully sell them the chocs. To my defense, these chocolates are just very yummy. So very yummy, that I am unable to describe them. So go grab yourself a box soon!

Ok, that's all for me, it is tea time now....Tulsi organic green tea, what else?

Project Common Bond

Project Common Bond will be held in Boston July 12th to 20th. All expenses paid for by American Govt. Kids from all over the world. 2 kids needed from India. Only requirement : any member of immediate family to have been a victim of a terror attack.
The only objective is Collective Healing.

As we would need to organise visas and travel arrangements, we need to identify these 2 individuals ASAP!


Please contact me arundhatide@gmail.com for details

100 ka chutta nahi milenga...

 100

That's the number that all of India seems to be pretty fixated with at the moment. Well, if not the entire nation, then Mumbai is, for sure...Following Sachin's 100th 100, two weeks ago - all forms of the media have gone absolutely berserk commemorating the Man. In usual Indian style, we have decided that the Little Master may now officially exit ODI's and continue to rake it in through all the other means.Gladly, Sachin has been vocal in establishing the contrary to this thought by assuring the masses that as of now, he shall continue professional cricket.

But a rather interesting development (since I began writing this post, 5 days ago!) is that Sachin has elegantly stepped down as the captain for Mumbai Indians and has neatly handed this gift to Bhajji.
Arey aila - hey kai Sachin? IPL cha chaska side varoon honar? (translation- "oh mother! Whats this Sachin? Ready to enjoy the IPL from the side line?")


Meanwhile Harbhajjan and his various chickitas must be going wild, doing the balle balle with several patiala pegs being had! Bhajji says,

"Sachin bhai spoke to me a few days back and told me about his decision. It's a great honour for me to lead Mumbai Indians in such a big tournament," said Harbhajan. "I would like to thank Nita (Ambani) bhabi and Sachin paaji for giving me this responsibility and showing faith in me. It was a difficult moment when Sachin expressed his desire to quit captaincy. But we all believe that he is the best person to take the final call on such matters." 

For a non-IPL person (notice, I didn't say "fan") like me; who remains fairly indifferent to all the tamaasha surrounding this sporting event - I am sure, that it will be another season of great glamour, excitement, entertainment and controversy!!

SO, LET THE GAMES BEGIN!



Chulo, now you tell me, what can we get in Rs. 100 nowadays?
Go on, scratch your head...

Many of us (sadly and shockingly) might draw a blank. Our lives have gotten tres cheres...we are living in Grand times.
This is quite true. Take your average entertainment costs that have sky rocketed! One movie trip burns a sizzling Rs. 500 debt in an individual's pocket, if you are going to a city multiplex. Petrol up, khaana up, peena up, cigarette up, sleeping bhi up...we should value the rare, free moments that life brings us.

This year was my first year filing my taxes. I spent several hours in the last few weeks of March getting my salary and bank balance in order. I was shocked by how much I "owed" the government. "Over and above all the indirect taxes we dish out with out some times realizing, we are condemned to pay yet some more at the end of each year?!

Feeling beaten and tiny, I left for home and stopped off for a pick-me-up work out at the Bombay Gymkhana. As I was leaving, I looked across the street as I always do, toward Fashion street. This evening, it seemed that the hawkers were really calling out to me. "I mustn't ignore them," I thought as I made my way to my favorite stall. I made sure to grab the very last note I had and fortunately it was Rs. 500 - Jackpot!

15 minutes of blissful haggling later, I jumped back into my car with a little bag of new summer wear. Not bad 1 dress and 2 blouses for half a grand...I felt rich.It was comforting to know that there were still some things that were delightful and yet accessible to my threadbare wallet!

That's the great thing though, we are known as "resourceful" Indians. And it is true - we are rather resourceful - we are completely capable of often pulling a rabbit out of a hat, if that is the need of the hour. But I wonder how long we can rely on our resourcefulness? I will not cease to have the utopian hope that one fine day we shall enjoy safe and sound governance. There will be an authority that will use our money to give us smooth roads, a safe metro to commute across the ever-expanding city, water bodies in place of gutter bodies, fragrances instead of stenches........this list could go on.


How about your 100ka100 list in the mean while?

Delhilicious

Another splendid time was had in Capital city. I went there this weekend for the first ever edition of the India Design Forum (www.indiadesignforum.com). The purpose of this 2 day forum was to look at the role of design as shaping our futures, and also the role that India plays in contributing to the world of design.

A very relevant initiative indeed, put together by Rajshree Pathy and her daughter, Aishwarya. The 2 day forum was organised as a series of discussions and talks given by imminent people from the world of design, art, architecture, fashion and industry; both from India as well as internationally. There were some really great speakers, such as Paola Antonelli, Senior Curator from the Department of Architecture and Design, Museum of Modern Art (MoMA; Karim Rashid Design Guru, Manish Arora, to name a few. It was a sincere effort that succeeded in marrying all these different world together at a common platform, to educate and to synergise the various disciplines that work together in the realm of design. There was a huge contingent of students who got access to these talks....access that they probably would not have been able to get normally.

To top it off, Architectural Digest, timed its launch with this event, and it was the icing on the cake for all. They pulled off a splendid launch in the lawns of the Aman. The setup they had created was really, top class! It was a real pity that one couldnt get to stay outdoors longer and enjoy the crisp Delhi air and the ambiance. The party was shifted indoors at 10.45 PM....Grrr to all our rules.

Cool or what!?

But what really and truly surprised and inspired me was the discovery of the lovely Hauz Khas Village.

o
m
g

Why have I ever not been do this little gem-like part of Delhi before? I went there imagining a quaint, fancy, up-scale hood; bubbling with fashion boutiques and cafes.
It was all  that and more. So much more! I have never been to Dilli as a tourist and every time I go there, I have my nose stuck to the window marveling at the wonderful buildings. Each time I drive past India Gate, my heart skips a beat with nationalistic fervor. The sight of the Qutab - just, right there - always humbles me. So when I found myself roaming through the tiny and dusty little gullis of hk, I was thinking, "here I am, shopping amidst fantastic ruins, there's a man made water body here, a tomb there, ahhh look at that amazing doorway. Where will it take me?!"  Although HK had more than just just reels of exposed wires and half-bulldozed buildings all over, there was beauty in every nook and corner. The stores there all carried such interesting and cool merchandise. There were the latest up and coming designers who had chosen this as the location for their premier flagship boutique. There were the hippest and most charming cafes and eateries....For sure, Gunpowder and Elma's bakery wins hands down. Go to Elma's for a charmed afternoon spent over chai and scones. DELISH!

When you're done with that, stop at the Hauz to watch the sun setting through the arches of the fort...

Come find me, for I plan on stealing several afternoons day dreaming away, snuggling in one of the many tiny nooks!

Vintage store

One man's junk; another man's art

Stairway down to heaven

A truly blissful hours were spent there.