| Monday, 16 October 2006 | |
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Cars: a girl's worst friend
I admit it. I don’t understand cars. I don’t drive them, and I don’t politicize them. I still have the old Honda City which I have retained from my modelling days. I have the same driver for a while, who I keep around because he has an admirable quality: patience. And when he isn’t around, I hop into an autorickshaw.Now this has never been a problem for me. However, it’s a serious problem for the boys in my life. Apparently, the minute you start a career in the movies, you have to buy yourself a big fat SUV that chars the environment every time you start it up. Apparently, the purpose of having a fancy brand of car is also to decorate the parking lot closest to the venue at any film function. Producers and event managers have a problem with the leading lady driving up in something ‘adequate’. So I went shopping for cars. I found one that I liked. It was eggshell white, spacious and had a cute snub nose. I bought it. John takes one look at the car and says, “You bought a Porsche Cayenne???”. This is why we like men so much. They recognize cars. The inflection in his voice said, 'This Is Important'. |
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