#207 Enjoy this moment – In true Jozi style flags fly proudly off electric fences, the sound of vuvuzelas (singly, that of a wounded bull elephant, in large groups – more like angry hornets) rings out wherever you are – from Melrose Arch to Braamfontein, Sandton to the Soweto no matter what time of day. Fashion trends hold no sway as most people are intent on showing their team colours. I have succumbed. This city is yellow and green, in love with this time, this place, and this nation. Continue reading
#206 Nothing to do in Joburg besides become a fan – of football, Bafana Bafana, the diski, the flag, the colours, the people, the spirit, the music and even the vuvuzela (I have my earplugs ready for the opening game at Soccer City tomorrow night). It’s hard not to. Yesterday in Sandton the streets filled with thousands (they say around 185 000 to be more precise) — and even the actuaries and accountants and a few oddly dressed people that could only have come from some corporate IT department joined the throngs Continue reading
#174. Wonder why in the fashion world three or four days constitutes a week and why this hasn’t caught on in the world of work. Actually in the fashion world three or four days constitute a universe in which a front row seat is your ticket to beyond-mere-mortaldom (ask Sonia Booth, wife of South Africa’s most famous white soccer player, Matthew – and I mean that in the nicest possible way. For the full story on former first princess Sonia read this from TimesLive), you no longer kiss people on the cheek (it’s all in the air dahling) and you hoik up your skirt so short that if your grandmammy was still alive she would be chasing you around the house with a dishcloth trying to cover up what G-d gave you (oy! She left home without her pants). And then there’s the heels, darling. So high this year as to give even the casual observer vertigo.
As for the fashion models, well they’ve mastered walking by sending their legs far out in front of them (the rest of me will be there in a minute darling). Continue reading
#154. Go to the airport and collect someone. And it took more than an hour for them to make it from the plane to international arrivals this morning. No complaints here though as it gave me extra time to find OR Tambo International’s best kept secret – a brand new super-cool Woolworths store. (Score one goal for the brand) But not just any store — the kind of store that would have made the Tom Hanks character in Terminal, a happy man. Continue reading
#125. Feel the love. And so we sat, on the edge of our seats, our eyes mostly glued to the pitch (which by last night was starting to show some wear). Mostly glued because the game was utterly captivating, nail-biting, excruciatingly suspense-filled. (The other few minutes had me glued to Twitter #confedcup). Around 48 000 of us packed Ellis Park along with about 47 000 vuvuzelas. Continue reading
#119. Watch soccer, even if the home team wasn’t sure what to do with the ball once they got it. Last night’s opening ceremony and game at Ellis Park has been endlessly dissected in hundreds of column inches so for my part – I was in the stands nicely placed behind the goalposts that sadly didn’t get much action from Bafana Bafana or Iraq, the sound of thousands of vuvuzelas like a swarm of very angry wasps buzzing in my ears.