“You are going to be the show-stopper for this show.” The choreographer broke the news to me and my joy knew no bounds. I had walked the ramp on a few occasions but I never had got an opportunity to be a show-stopper. In the fashion business though the show-stopper is the costume and not the model, it has been a protocol to make the most successful model the show-stopper.
So in a way this was an acknowledgement of the fact that I had arrived on the Indian fashion scene. Since my teenage days my sartorial tastes were admired by many. Little had anyone thought I would take my passion to a professional level that too so successfully.
I decided to keep my excitement in control and concentrate on the steps I practised with all my colleagues. Fortunately for me we shared a good cameradie. There was no bitching or rivarly as is shown in movies and serials. We were a bunch of young men and women who were having fun and being paid for it!
The stage was set. This was going to be the happiest day in my life. The female models had already walked to the ramp and within a few minutes we men were going to join them.
As the assistants were busy helping us with our clothes, the designer took me into a corner.
“I really wished that you should have been the show-stopper.”
“I am going to me the show-stopper” I said disdainfully.
“You were going to be my dear, had it not been for your unkept beard rather stubble. Some how I feel that it does not go with the texture of the costume. Had you been clean shaven I was petty sure that you would have carried it with an elan. But not today with that stubble. You look good cleanshaven.”
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