happy women's day.

In honor of this past weekend's commercial holiday (say what you will about them; I, for one, savor the opp to shop), Women's Day, I happily patronized a masseuse, a patisserie and a lingerie boudoir in rapid succession. Feeling languid of limb, sated of sweet-tooth and buoyant of bust, I returned to embark upon‘Where are the Customer's Yachts?', which Christopher had thoughtfully lent me when I told him I was starting work in finance. (It was very entertaining, but unfortunately not so informative.) Christopher additionally recommended that I feel comfortable making blanket statements about China and Shanghai. He, older and wiser than I, said that each passing year has been accompanied by more confidence in his own tastes and distastes. (The latter category, to my knowledge, includes exercise, Edinburgh, limp mattresses, and South America) For him I present 3 things, under observation, that Shanghainese women love:

1. The beauty industry. According to my masseuse, the weekly beauty regimen for a young lady in Shanghai includes a facial, a manicure, a foot massage and pedicure, and a full-body rub-down. It sounds excessive, but I'm not altogether sure it is, given that Shanghai is a filthy city and every jaunt outdoors invites a toxic brew of smog, cigarette and halitosis to coat unprotected pores and fingernails.
2. Bling. It's fair to say that Shanghai fashion is a bit gaudy. I rather headache each time I behold shopping mall windows, which boast the latest pastel tracksuits, teal slouched boots and oversized, scrunched handbags – all emblazoned with monograms and hyperactive, senseless catchphrases like 'FREEDOM TO JOY!' spelt out in glitter, sequins and rhinestones. The Chinese love souping up their cellular phones, daybooks, office supplies and iPods as well, plastering busy, sparkly sticker spreads and jeweled appliqués on all and any surfaces so unlucky as to have been bare. Every so often, I'll decide that I'm going to take the leap and start dressing more fashionably, but I'll inevitably chicken out. It offends about every aesthetic sensibility in my book.
3. Jay Chou. There is one celebrity in China. He's the face of China Mobile, Pepsi, Motorola, Nokia, Lays, Panasonic, Meters Bonwe Sportswear and Guarda Fashion, off the top of my head. He's got a commercial presence so overbearing, that I forget he's a Taiwanese pop star, and not just a ubiquitous pair of giant ears and sloppy hair . . . until I ask anybody in Shanghai who their favorite band-artist-or-movies-star is. I read this morning that he was offered a Performing Arts professorship at Shanghai's prestigious FuDan University, which he accepted. This seems like a bit much to me, as I recently saw his latest film 'Kung Fu Dunk', in which he plays an orphaned martial arts student-turned-professional-basketball-star.

. . . and then 3 things that, under observation, Shanghainese women hate:

1. The cold. This can be said for the Chinese in general. Our cardiovascular systems seem work under-time, slowly and inefficiently populating our extremities with an insufficient quantity of blood. Hence the abundance of gloves and gloves-variants (finger-mittens, arm-skins, driving gloves), socks and sock-variants (stockings, legwarmers, leggings), coat-makers, coats, hot beverage vendors (see above) and heated floor boards and car seats.
2. Exercise. It's not immediately obvious, because everybody is so trim and there are so many gyms, and all dutifully packed with petite girls in (sequined) sports bras and yoga pants. Upon closer examination, though, you see that the women are engaged in the slowest, most sedate of physical activity: strolling at a leisurely pace on a treadmill, gently rolling a medicine ball in circles, sitting quietly on an unmoving stationary bicycle. Watching an episode of 'Top Model: China' confirms my suspicion that standards of physical beauty are quite different here. They like their women soft, unsculpted, and, as Kim eloquently summed up, 'not like those American King Kong Barbies'.
3. The sun. My mother sometimes says that the best part of my leaving California for college is the positive effect indoor swimming had on my skin. That is to say that some time ago, I lost the enviable golden brown hue I'd always thought was my natural coloring, and became sallow and yellow. My mother and her friends thought this was a vast improvement; I obstinately caught every rare ray in New English in opposition. Women in Shanghai take special means to keep their skin out of the sun (despite tanning so well!). Daily sun block and even parasols emerge on warmer days - despite any sunshine having to penetrate a Fort Knox wall of smog to inflict any harm.