Nostalgic Reflections

Recently, I received an interview call by a San Francisco based skincare brand to potentially join their research and brand strategy team. On the onset, I looked at the job very practically, trying to align my skills with how I could contribute to the firm. Everything was going rather smoothly and quickly, until I was asked to research the skincare category for my last and final round. My research included a visit to Sephora in the Marina district of San Francisco. As I walked across different aisles studying skincare products and women in those aisles, I couldn’t help but feel less as a person, not having used one single product displayed there. Looking around, every woman in the store was predominantly white wearing Lulu Lemon or Athletica with a flawless skin. Looking at them and the number of products available, I felt terribly embarrassed of not having taken care of my skin like I should in my 30s. Perhaps I should have used skin enhancing products to tighten my sk

Radhika was 32 years old, married, mature, a perfectionist and in complete control of her immaculate home. Her kitchen could be a corner in an IKEA store - beautiful and utterly butterly delicious. Her day started with making sure that everything was in the right place – towels were in the right drawer and there was not a single fold or butt impression on her bedsheet. She also tried to better herself perpetually and meet others’ expectations. Pleasing other people was her thing -- it made her feel better about herself. When her husband complimented the B aingan Ka Bharta she cooked, she rejoiced for many days since she’d worked hard to perfect it. However, she was also very self-critical when she didn’t meet the high bar she’d set for herself. Sometimes, having too much fun provoked guilt. One time, she binge-watched four episodes of ‘Humsafar’ on Netflix and felt terrible to have wasted time - reading the newspaper or a book would have been an appropriate thing to do. An in

I’ve been living in the US for 10 years now and beginning to reach a saturation point. Living away from home can make you love and judge your country at the same time. You are privy to social and political differences every day and it is only human to compare them. As a Delhiite and curious about other peoples’ businesses, I’ve always compared social-cultural differences the most. Initially, I couldn’t help but notice the dress wear of other women – inevitably checking them out and staring. It was second nature to me and I just didn’t know how to hide my curiosity. As Indians, I think we wear our curiosity on our sleeves. It was only after a first few months that I realized it was rude to stare in the US. People checked you out through side glances or sun-glasses, and with polite smiles when caught red-handed. I mastered the skill of “hidden stares” and started to feel it was uncouth to stare openly like I used to. I judged my culture, and therefore, I judged the old me.  Th