After lounging beach side all afternoon, the sun had robbed us of all energy. But Thai food hit the spot and we were suddenly recharged. The girls spent time primping themselves to go clubbing, while I decided on a quiet night in a place with soft music, low lights, excellent company, and senseless conversation.
Lindy, Kitty's Columbian/Bulgarian, 100-watt bulb, friend, said as they got dressed, "It takes so much effort--this prettifying thing--just to go out. The hair, the make-up, the everything. I'm tired already and we haven't even stepped out the door." Don't all women feel that way? Doesn't it truly take a village to make us look our best? Well, I know some women who need an entire country to get the job done but I'm not saying because they might shut down this site. Oh, okay, if you insist: Ms. Baby Arenas for one, don't you agree? What about the coiffured, coutured, powdered, and rouged women of Manila's social scene? How about Ivana Trump, or Dolly Parton, or Cindy McCain? Make me stop, please! I know you've got at least a dozen names on your mind right now. It feels so liberating to be naughty and plebeian and pedestrian like this. Chismis is the ultimate de-stresser.
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