My Baba and Paris!!!

Hello there! Been a while since we saw each other, right? Well, a lot has happened in my life since January 24, when I last published a blog post but I’m slowly getting back into the swing of things. On Feb 5th, I flew to Karachi, Pakistan, to bid a final farewell to my dearest Baba. There’s so much I can say about my father’s passing…. yet, nothing I put down in writing can or will sufficiently convey the magnitude of the loss my Ami, my sisters and I have suffered. Of course, we are not the first and only ones to have lost their father/husband. However, it is a deeply personal experience and each person’s grief as a result can manifest in uniquely different and surprising ways. Suffice it to say that I’m dealing with mine in the best possible manner I know, despite the fact that it hits me sideways when I least expect it. I don’t mean to get too heavy and emotional here, but given that I’m a pretty open book I thought I’d share this with you.

I decided to write this post about my father and along with it post pictures of a photoshoot from Paris, which brought me some level of serenity and calm despite the internal turmoil I was facing at the time. Hence, I’m dedicating this post to my Baba and to Paris and to our mutual love for this extraordinarily pretty city, where I always feel at home. And where, on this trip of mine (February 25 -March 5) I felt him around me on many occasions - looking over me, looking out for me and looking at Paris with me. I love you, Baba.

I was 16 and residing in Pakistan when I first visited Paris. Baba, who was very well traveled had tried to inculcate in my two sisters and I the love of the arts and music (opera being his favorite) from a very early age. He, very excitedly, planned the entire trip for us. Meanwhile, Ami forewarned us about the MANY museums that were part of his agenda. We sighed, rolled our eyes and decided we would somehow power through those museums just for Baba’s sake! Our first stop in Paris, was at Musée Rodin, dedicated to the works of the French sculptor, Auguste Rodin, to see The Kiss, The Thinker and The Gates of Hell among his other pieces. I’m not bullshitting you, but we all literally fell madly in love with Rodin’s work and the surrounding ambience of the magnificent gardens where his work is displayed. I’ve been there countless times now - with Nadir and the kids and by myself - in the 33 years that have since elapsed.

It was simultaneously befitting and nostalgic then that the first show at Paris Fashion Week I saw this year, on Feb 26, 2019 (three weeks after Baba had left us) was Dior at Musée Rodin. Honestly, before heading there with my girlfriends Farah and Sonya, I could not have anticipated my reaction. As we were walking in towards our seats we passed by The Kiss so, I asked Farah to take a picture of me next to the sculpture for Ami and my sisters. I stood in front of it in all my fashionable glory (yes, I did look rather nice and even got photographed by the paparazzi for one and a half pics till they saw a real celebrity and stormed off mid-pic:) and out of nowhere a full blown panic attack hit me, followed by a few tears that were subsequently followed by LOTS of tears. WTF was happening to me!!!!!

Farah looked at me with the sweetest concern and asked if I needed to step out with her. I turned around and told her in my unexpected state of hysteria (Thaaaaank God the mascara was waterproof) that Baba brought us here many moons ago and that I could feel him around me in that moment. Needless to say, my girlfriends did what girlfriends do best . They sandwiched me and lead me out to the courtyard where the light was just beautiful on this bright and sunny day in Paris. And we took pictures of each other. Lots of pictures. Lots and lots of pictures (after cleaning up my face, of course). Yes, my girls know how to make me feel better. And feel better I did.

The rest of Paris Fashion Week was a treat as always. We maintained our tradition of the three F’s (plus an additional F which, most definitely shall be eliminated next time) - Fashion Shows, Fries, Fun and … Fall:) Yes, I fell 3 days before leaving Paris, outside my hotel, and had to rush to the ER to get my knee stitched up. And no, it was not high heels that lead to my (down) fall. I was wearing these stunning beige (red soon after the fall #ew) wide legged pants that got caught under my shoe and I tripped over … and quite a trip it was!! I missed the Givenchy and Stella McCartney shows but I saw many other magnificent ones (Off-White, Dior, Alexander McQueen, Loewe, Elie Saab, Rochas, Guy Laroche, which was to die for, Thierry Mugler, Andrew Gn to name a few plus a showroom visit to see Wes Gordon at Carolina Herrera and a fabulous lunch hosted by Valentino and another by Chanel and a super chic cocktail party by Mcqueen) and finally limped my way to Chanel and became part of history as I witnessed the last collection designed by Karl Lagerfeld being modeled by Penelope Cruz among other models in a make believe ski resort (with the most real looking fake snow, ski chalets, chimneys emitting smoke and much more) created inside The Grand Palais - #success.

Will I not talk about trends, you ask? Hell yes, why do you think I’m here writing this post. Here are my favorites:

80's revival
Bold, exaggerated shoulders & puffed sleeves
Hair accessories - headbands, the bigger the better. Hair bows. Turbans
Feathers, Feathers, Feathers
Neutrals - ummm, some more beige please
Wide Legged Pants (let’s not all fall, ladies)
Over the knee boots
Platform heels
Jewel tones - Sapphire Blue, Ruby Red, Emerald Green
Suits (what I was wearing when I fell:((
Pleated lady-like skirts
Sequins and sparkles
Statement earrings - again the bigger the better
Patent faux leather/pleather
Did I mention an 80s Vibe overall? So put on some disco music and get down to some shopping now, girls!

Thank you for visiting & reading my blog post! Needless to say, this is an intensely personal one but I’m happy to share my vulnerabilities (most of them:) with you all. Lots and lots of love AND prayers from the stirrer;) Hugs, Sobia