Dressing the devil

Recently I watched the "boss-from-hell-whips-ugly-duckling-into-swan" film - "the devil wears prada". Unheeding dire warnings of an imminent chick-flick, we gobbled much-delayed tomato-basil-mozzarella sandwiches(our mouths thanking us for not choosing the hot soup) and were in the darkness of the theatre before the bored teen at the door could point an uninterested finger and mumble "its to your left". The cheap-perfumed, musty air reeked of chick-flick. Oh dear. All the good seats were taken by fashion afficionados in narrow-leg jeans and their squeezes in fleece. We slid by popcorn, twizzlers, goobers and an errant straw (Ouch!) and dropped into our seats in the 5th row and looked up as the film-man custodian of amc theaters loomed ahead; raising an avuncular finger to his lips and shaking his head at all of us chomping, munching, cell-phone-texting naughtys. After endless trailers that boded well for future savings, the feature began.

Here is the general storyline: Miranda Priestly [The Awesome Meryl Streep] is a super successful, iconic fashion magazine editor who enjoys assistant-toast for breakfast every morning. Andrea(Andy) Sachs [Anne Hathaway] plays the new toast. She is the ex-editor of her college magazine and dreams of being a journalist and writer. In true fantasy style, the improbable candidate (bad fashion sense, clueless about the industry and a this-is-just-a-job-so-I-can-get-a-break attitude) lands the much-coveted ("a million girls would kill for this job") position of Ms.Priestly's second assistant because the trendsetting editor wants to hire the "smart, fat girl" for a change. Size-6-Andy starts work at the center-for-the-4-and-less. After having designer coats hurled at her every morning, cirque-de-soleil with the starbucks orders and barbs aplenty, Andy decides to trade in her comfortable shoes for chanel boots with help from the magazine's fashion director Nigel[Stanely Tucci]. She goes on to perform wonderfully (magic!!!) and displaces Emily[Emily Blunt], the first assistant, to become "the new Emily" - Miranda's right hand person. The endless hours and the ever-ringing cell phone result in the estrangement and ultimate breakup of Andy and her boyfriend (cliched setting of not being able to attend the boyfriend's birthday dinner; like it were life-altering surgery). Andy is chosen to go to Paris in place of Emily who has been starving herself for that opportunity ("I'm on this new diet where I don't eat... and then when I feel like I'm about to faint, I have a cube of cheese"). In Paris, amidst a high-fashion extravaganza, a makeup-less Miranda tells Andy about her impending divorce. Later in the same trip, a strategical move by Miranda to save the magazine shatters Nigel's future dreams. Andy believes that she could never do that to a friend- but Miranda is quick to point out that she has already done it - to the first assistant Emily! Something within Andy snaps and she leaves abruptly (knowing fully well that Miranda needs Andy to back her up at all times and is paying her for it and often throws in barely used designerwear - a tad unprofessional ya think? She could always quit after the trip!), after symbolically throwing a perfectly good blackberry into a beautiful french fountain. Back in NY, she changes back into her grunge-wear and armed with a renewed soul, interviews for a job at a newspaper. She is surprised to find out that Miranda has written her a glowing recommendation. The film ends with Andy and Miranda locking glances for a brief moment from afar before they go in opposite directions.

The film was very entertaining, well acted with the humour laced aesthetically with quirks of the fashion world. It also left me with some questions and uneasiness. The two main characters, both women, were portrayed as being passionate about their careers and in the process, losing their significant others. The unclear message of the film irked me. It seemed to have an unpleasant veneer; a cautionary tale - "Beware of being passionate about your work for it might cost you everything else that you might hold dear in life". I wonder if things would have been different if Miranda and/or Andy had been a man.

Gender issues aside, is it really so wrong to be passionate about something - so much so that it is an all-consuming undercurrent that never does ebb? Does shutting off or forgetting the world to focus on creativity really mean the end of personal life and relationships? Does one really have to be alone to be unconditionally, undividedly involved in one's passion? Is it really a bad idea to push one's abilities to the limits and discover more? At what point does one step over the line from "striving for perfection" to "unreasonable obsession"?

I am unable to decide.

Happiness is best enjoyed when shared. Involvement in an endeavour that is as much a part of one's living as breathing, generates happiness and satisfaction. It provides a reason to want to get up in the morning. What would be the point if there was nobody to share that happiness with?

Conversely, if one is holding oneself back in a conscious effort to not neglect the people in one's life and making (entirely voluntary) concessions in order to see them smile - is it true kindling of the creative spirit?

Somewhere between those two questions lies the ever-alive, ever-agog, ever-torn mind of the creative person; defining and redefining happiness and contentment; trying to achieve that elusive balance.

Going back to the film, I would have liked to see/hear a reference that Miranda's husband was, atleast at some point in the past, proud of her work. It would have been nice (and very 21st century) if the boyfriend had picked up take-out and shown up at Andy's workplace if he really wanted to share his birthday with her. But that would have made for less drama and the film is, eventually, a result of many choices made by the creative team behind it. Clearly the intent of this film was not to make a politically correct, balanced representation of humanity. It is the story of two individuals with specific incidents in their life orchestrated in order to create drama and humour for two hours. Just as any other film, fiction or theater production. One is to accept it for what it is.

Perhaps I am affected by my own apparitions of these characters - peering between the pixels; looking for evidence that these clearly creative personalities are not all about the pumps and purses. Perhaps they really are selfish, thoughtless and blinded by the speed to keep up in the rat race; devouring before being devoured.

But they certainly did it in style.

So..I am now a blogger

Yes. I succumbed to the lure of the blog after being mock-indifferent to the idea for a while. I suddenly have a sense of home-ownership without the mortgage payment. This is my space dammit! I can write about anything - from the most profound to the literary equivalent of vacuuming naked.

Finding a blog name was more difficult than I expected. MyName.blogspot was long gone and so were other obvious associations. I was skeptical about delving deep into the "natya shastra"(yet was much amused that "shikara", "mushti" and some other hand gestures from the Bharatanatyam vocabulary were taken). Hardly user friendly. I would like to be found. And read. It would be blogger's suicide if I identified myself as something that might never show up on google!

Moving onto favourite flowers and food. 'Quinoa', my current food fascination - simply fascination considering I have not eaten it yet - was taken. I was all set to be "Avocado", but someone else had taken a bite at it. "Lotus", "Hibiscus","Spinach", "Broccoli", "Arugula" were all gone.

Fine! Reaching beyond the mundane now, I revisit my life from "What is it that I like to do". A whole bunch of things surface. I dance and choreograph. I am a software engineer. I am a musician. I am an artist - been doodling since I could hold a crayon. I am a graphic designer - self taught photoshop junkie. I have recently begun trying to write - hello blog! I am beginning to learn the right way to do stage lighting. I am trying to convince a friend who writes poems to let me read and illustrate them - just because I have not done that before. I have conned another friend into believing that the decor of his new house would be safest in my experimenting hands [say NO to valances]. I am researching unusual angles in Indian literature and mythology to find new interpretations for future productions and making amazon.com richer by hunting and buying obscure translations that might not have left academic circles in a long time, if ever.

I am one person who does, and likes to do, many creative things and enjoys all of them and I have had a fair degree of success in all...well, the pineapple upside down cake which had neither an upside nor a down might beg to differ....but I digress...

Alright. The blogname hunt continues with a new focus. "jackofAlltrades","masterofnone","manyhats" - all adopted by other folks with multiple interests and abilities!

Frustrating.

Then, by sheer stroke of luck (google rules!), I came upon the term "hybrid artist". Many cyber accounts of folks who had discovered their many creative talents and identified as being a "hybrid artist" and were, very simply, happy with creating something or other. There was a guy who was a gemcutter/programmer/sailor/bassplayer/painter/mechanic/sculptor/animator. Another was a veterinary-radiologist/painter/writer/chef/photographer. And these were only some things that they had tried and found themselves to be talented enough to identify as one who does that "thing". A common note in all their voices/words was the urge to try anything creative. The clincher was a post about "hybrid artists" on one of the forums I visited. It said "Creative people tend to create stuff in different areas to keep their sanity". That did it. "Hybrid artist" shall be my blog name.

Oh...and I drive a Toyota Prius Hybrid. And I do not vacuum naked..