Makeover

“I want to become a model.”

“You want to become a model?”

“Yes.”

“Do you own a mirror?”

“Yes…”

“Have you ever used it?”

A miffed look.

“What? I’m being practical.”

“I look great, George.”

“Sure. If you say so.”

A deep sigh.

“Well, what should I do?”

“Don’t look like you do. You won’t be able to get anywhere the way you look right now. You must understand, Kiran, that in this industry, hard work is not the key to success. Looks are. You need a makeover. Take your specs off.”

“Maybe I should. I wouldn’t be able to see your malevolent face then.”

“If you don’t want my help, why have you come to me?”

“You’re supposed to be my friend!”

“Yes… so I am trying to help you. You don’t seem to want it.”

“I do want it but…”

“Look. What do you want me to tell you? That you’re drop down gorgeous, and agencies will be dying to give you contracts? That you’ll soon be walking at the Met Gala?”

“Well, it would definitely boost my self-esteem.”

 “Yes. Being delusional does wonders to one’s self-esteem.”

An exasperated sigh.

“I’m telling you how it is. There’ll be people who’ll tell you in no uncertain terms what I’m telling you right now. And anyways, people better looking and more fashionable than you have found it hard to make it in this industry. The least you can do is take your specs off, do up your hair more fashionably and completely lose your identity. It’s a fair ask, according to me.”

Silence. The clock ticked on. The air conditioner hummed. The revolving chair creaked.

“So… what have you decided?”

“I have decided to give the fashion industry a makeover.”

“You have a knack for the dramatic. Maybe you should consider acting.”

“Maybe.”

“Wha – No! That’s not what I meant! Wait, where are you going…?”

The door had closed.

***

“Inclusivity is our motto. We try our best to apply it in every sphere of our work.”

“That’s great to hear! There are so few companies that actually practice what they preach.”

“Oh no! We have very strong ethics, and we mean to stick to them. Diversity is of utmost importance to us. All kinds of people should be given an equal chance, they should be seen and heard and included. Representation is the key to bringing a revolution in the industry. Otherwise, how will we, as a society evolve, right? We must fight to make the fashion industry more inclusive!”

“Precisely”

“After all, there’s no way to succeed in business without the highest ethical standards.”

“Absolutely!”

“As Henry Ford once said, ‘A business that makes nothing, but money is a poor kind of business.’ We’re not in this just to make money! We’re here to make a change!”

“Exactly” – said Kiran, in a voice brimming with tears.

“I have a feeling that our partnership is going to hit it off! Our company is always on the lookout for similar-minded and empathetic investors. I really must thank George for referring you to us.”

Confused silence.

“Investors?”

“Yes. As you know, the industry can be quite non-inclusive and discriminatory. And so can the investors. They usually prefer the ones that are more likely to make more money. Unfortunately, as a result of that, we get very few investors, and it has been quite difficult for our start-up to take off. So, you truly are an angel… erm… our angel investor…”

“Oh, but I’m no investor…”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not an investor. I am an aspiring model. George referred your company to me because he knows I valued high ethics.”

“Oh… but you have specs.”

“Excuse me?”

“You want to become a model?”

“Yes.”

“But you have specs, you’re fat and you look like an investor from Bangalore.”

“Wha – “

“Why didn’t you tell me before I started talking that you aren’t an investor?!”

“I – I did say it but…”

“Ugh! It’s those specs. They’re so distractingly investor-like. They got my investor senses tingling. Take them off please. They remind me of all those investors I have lost over the past seven years.”

Subdued sniffling.

A cleared throat.

“My specs are fine. I’m not fat. This is what a normal, healthy body looks like and -“

Uproarious laughter.

“You are not fat?! Well, then, why can’t I see your bones?”

Mutinous silence.

“Aren’t you supposed to be inclusive?”

“Well, yes, we are very inclusive of the people who will get us money.”

“How thoughtful.”

“Do I smell sarcasm?”

“Oh, do you? Funny. Because I’m getting a whiff of hypocrisy.”

“How dare you accuse me of – “

The door had closed.

***

The yellow light bulb flickered as Kiran stared into the bathroom mirror, for a long time.

“I would be a great model. I have the confidence and the style and the personality…”

But do you? – said self-doubt.

“Oh please! Shut up! I didn’t ask you. The last thing I need is you pulling me down.”

I’m being honest.

Deep sigh.

“Look what does one need to be successful? The will to do something, the ability to work hard with honesty and of course, a love for that thing. I mean… check, check, double check!”

I think you should write a book on productivity. You seem to be good at that. Or maybe, give a shot at giving Ted talks? I don’t know… the opportunities are endless, you see?

“But…”

Silence.

“But… I really want to be a model… it’s the only thing I’d be happy doing… I can’t see myself anywhere else…”

Silence.

“Fashion is a means to express myself. It’s a passion, why don’t you understand?!”

Silence.

I do. They won’t.

Kiran silently took off the investor-like specs and reached for a change of identity in the massive cupboard that stood in the corner of the room.

The cupboard door wouldn’t budge. Kiran pulled hard. Yet, it remained stoically wooden. Then, all of a sudden, it gave way.

It didn’t take much time for Kiran to change into the new outfit and put in contact lenses.

After having bumped into several things, Kiran finally located the phone and dialled a number.

“Hello?”

“Hello. Welcome to TruDiet Diet Clinic – your one-stop solution for weight loss. How may I help you?”

“Hi, I’m Kiran and I’d like to know which juice cleanse is the best for weight loss.”

***

“I want to be a model.”, announced Kiran, after having bumped into the squeaky-clean glass door of George’s office.

“Great! Here’s your contract.”, said George.

***