Retail therapy time...

The good thing about living in a capital city is that whatever you need to buy, you can get it. The bad thing about living in a capital city as a VSO volunteer is that whatever you want to buy you can’t really afford. This weekend I indulged and headed off for a bit of retail therapy Delhi style…

Saturday was another blistering hot day, reaching a sizzling 43°c by lunchtime. I decided to hit Select Citywalk the swanky shopping mall because a) it’s got amazing air conditioning b) I managed to snap my sunglasses during some vomiting incident in Varanasi so was in dire need c) I really needed to start looking for a bridesmaid dress for my sister’s wedding in July. The first thing I needed to do was to decide what to wear to go shopping. You definitely know you are acclimatised when you decide to wear jeans. It sounds like madness but it’s actually a bit of a treat to go out in Western clothes, temporarily shed my volunteer skin and do what I like to call the ‘London Thing’. So off I headed (only mildly perspiring in the denim).

Entering into the mall there are strict security checks. I say strict, but you walk through a wooden scanner (which I swear is not even plugged in) and have your bag half heartedly poked at by a bored security guard. Inside its all magical sparkly lights, pristinely clean with serene piped piano music, deliciously frosty with random bits of modern art. So just like any other shopping mall in the world. It’s a little slice of Dubai in Delhi. There’s a smorgasbord of Western shops, including bizarrely an M&S. The mall was packed full of other Europeans and tottering gangs of groomed girls who were high on stilettos and serious about shopping. I decided to look for dresses first. It seemed my options were limited. Unless I fancied turning up to the wedding as a day-glo, pole dancing, blinged up Bollywood strumpet leaving not much to the imagination below my décollage and above my thighs, my options seemed limited. I gave up and decided to concentrate on the sunglasses.

I’ve finally worked out that there is a formula when it comes to customer service in India. Basically for every one salesperson required there are always three. Within seconds of hitting the cheapest sunglasses shop I could find, I had been surrounded like Jordan on a stag do. Having tried on a million pairs and bonded with Manoj who seemed the keenest to get his commission, I asked for his opinion. Manoj seemed unable to commit and just kept saying “‘Madam looks stylish”. I suspected he would have said that if I had come in dressed as a nun.

I finally made a decision, was pleased I had not spent too drastically and thought I would soak up some of the cooling AC before heading home. Wandering around without a mission was probably my downfall and made me vulnerable to attack from a preying Cosmetic Dolly. The Lancôme shop had decided to decamp to the centre of the mall to give facials and in true Pavlovian volunteer style when I heard the word “free” instantly agreed. Firstly I had to go through a skin check and felt quietly confident I would pass with flying colours, as Indian women are obsessed with getting paler skin to the point they buy whitening products (how ironic considering in Europe we are obsessed with getting darker skin). I was specifically asked about my “skin worries”. I realised I had none and instantly started to worry. Having identified my age the Cosmetic Dolly ticked the anti-ageing box. When I protested she then said surely anti-ageing was a worry due to my “pigmentation marks”. Somewhat confused I asked her to clarify what “pigmentation marks” were, from her concerned face and dotting motion I realised she meant my freckles. I corrected her but she continued to refer to them as “pigmentation marks” and firmly inked it in the form despite my declaration that this was a sign of being an English Rose. She was having none of it.

I then slipped into a not so private booth – the three tiers of the mall had full visibility of my “pigmentation marks” being exfoliated. I shut my eyes and realised that the piped piano music was now rather aptly playing ‘Bridge over Troubled Water’ and tried to relax. With my “pigmentation marks” still intact and my wallet marginally lighter I decided it was time to slip out back to the afternoon heat and dust that is Delhi as only mad dogs and Englishman do. It was sweaty outside but at least it was reality...

Highlights: air conditioning – the world’s best invention, I can now finally sleep at night, our new office – it’s so swish and has AC, finding out our monthly allowance has been increased by Rs1,000 (£13.33) – must restrain from using this for further retail therapy, being back in the land of living – it’s so nice to be eating again and the joy of having my first beer in a longtime – when it’s 43° outside Kingfisher is always your friend.