Pet Peeves

Enough with the politics. I think it is time we sorted out some of the more fundamental problems with the world in Kenya today - women who have let themselves go. And boy, am I in a bad mood. Nairobi is a dangerous gauntlet to walk - the number of badly dressed, overweight birds on the street will make you weep in despair. I have no problem with women dessing as if they came from the same cookie cutter; I draw the line, however, when the style they are all adopting is patently unsuitable for a greater number of these fashionistas.

When it comes to cellulose and flab, the less that is seen the better it is. What is so wrong in hiding all your nasty bits until you have hoodwinked the poor fool into bed? At that time, he is so greatful for having you in his bed, he doesn't care that you run a close second to a rhino in girth and skin texture. It should be made a cardinal rule that when a woman starts to resemble the Michelin Man, all figure-hugging items of clothing in her closet should be incinerated.

Men, today more than at any other time in history, are allegedly in short supply - especially the marrying-material, take-home-to-mama kind. But, with so much flab being flashed about so crudely, I would argue that it is not marriageable men who are in short supply, but women. An old African saying holds that there are no ugly women, only lazy ones. This is so very true when you watch all these otherwise personable babes dressing and behaving as if they are God's gift simply by being alive. Men should start drawing a very firm line when it comes to hair in unwanted places, spare wheels on anything but cars, trouser cuffs that have accumulated half the filth in Nairobi, cracked heels, et al.

Personal grooming only becomes a dark art when one behaves like a pig searching for truffles. The level of sartorial inelegance being displayed by women straight out of campus makes me wish that they did away with feminine university education altogether - it has failed to instil any sense of style in these poor dears. Worse, it is now spilling over onto our TV screens. Watching the evening news when presented by some of the over made-up women in suits a size too small spotting beer-guts to rival that of the famed Oloi Tip Tip, is a study in willpower. With the exception of some of the more established names like Kate Kasavuli and Beatrice Marshall and, my personal fave, Julie Gichuru, the rest are slowly scraping the bottom of the barrel when it come to what not to wear on TV. There was this woman who was interviewing the US ambassador in jeans and a rumpled blouse. Professional dressing is definitely not in their lexicon.

I despair for Kenya. The politics sucks and the eye-candy ain't sweet. Time for reform in more than one area, ama?