Schmoozing

Out and about with the Queen

Well on wednesday night I had a few events to hang out with and rub shoulders with the who's who of Mumbai. As you do of course.
I attended the UTV Walk of Stars party at Olive which was packed with every B grade beauty in town. The paparazzi were out in fine fashion- to be honest it was very difficult to escape them. Once again I teetered around in my sky high Gucci wedges and those bloody pesky white pebbles in the outdoor patio became the bane of my existence! Olive why do you have those pebbles out there? When you know us Indian (or at least half) girls aren't Amazonian giants so we need our stiletto's at all times. It's just cruelty to have to slap on a forced smile and look casual and relaxed on the way to the loo when you're terrified of losing balance and wetting yourself in public! C'mon let's find a stiletto friendly solution darlings...

Annoyingly attractive ladies at Olive

Who was there? Well the usual suspects of course- once again I was reminded that Indian girls are a force not to be reckoned with. Their beauty is just mesmerizing at times. And they really take thin to the next level. I doubt a cheese naan has ever touched those bee stung lips.
After smoking far too many ciggies and slugging back even too many more cocktails- we high tailed it to Shiro bar (Lower Parel) for Arjun Rampals wedding anniversary that he and Rohit Bal appeared to be hosting. Of course not before a very classy like roadside toilet stop for the Queen- no fair those Mojito's caught up on me. On arrival we had to wrangle once again with the paparazzi who were even more aggressive and vocal on the way in. The place was pumping and oozing with diamonds, ego's the size of their Bentley's and of course (grumble grumble) more beautiful people. Rohit Bal was wearing a red velour blazer with his signature locks freshly dyed and by the time we arrived he definetly looked carefree- shall we say? The booth tables were filled with popcorn...don't ask me why? But definetly proved useful as a prop for stars photoshoots with the lucky paparazzi that were allowed inside. The music was good. I spent most of my time upstairs at the mezzanine level desperately gasping for air. Smoking was allowed downstairs- of course the stars and who's who didnt want to whip outside and get snapped fagging it up for tomorow's tabloids. Smoking is unhealthy. No seriously. It's also not the best thing when you wake up sounding like a male cross dresser the next day like moi. But luckily HRH loves me including all my flaws.

Shiro Bar Wednesday night

Anyhoo I'm moving house today. Thank bloody god. The house of horrors can be kissed goodbye. Life is good. Our feline friends look a little confused at all the boxes but the new place will have ample room for their sleeping and eating routine. What a life! I suppose I will be much the same when I get to their age. Poor darlings. Oh there's the doorbell so looks like we are off to our new abode. Have no fear the queen of the suburbs hasn't left the neighbourhood- nobody is taking that crown without a fight. And with a voice like mine you wouldn't want to meet me in a back alley any time soon :-)
Ciao darlings. Queenie x