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The
view from Nabila's apartment is absolutely tranquil. Overlooking
the silently rippling sea, it's an oasis. In a nutshell this is
her life: peace rooted deep within the noise and chaos of Karachi.
She has surrounded herself with obsessions for the sun, water and
the orient. Nabila's life truly is 'inside out,' the one philosophy
that she works with and apparently lives by as well.
Stylist, beautician,
image consultant and more
there's no single word that can define
Nabila except for the fact that she makes everything she works on
look good, including herself. Known to be incorrigibly narcissistic,
Nabila's life is about Nabila, an inseparable part of herself and
her work. "I want to treat me well because I deserve it,"
she remarks. "I love myself." With this love comes the
need for well-being, and Nabila ensures that with a line-up of the
nation's best healers: a GP, a spiritual consultant, a psycho-therapist,
a hypno-therapist, a dentist or 'smile manager' as she calls him,
an aesthetician, cosmetic surgeon and yoga instructor. A date with
any one of them telephonically, or online is an essential part of
her morning regime. "These are not cures," she comments,
"but treats."
At nine a.m. she has already been up for ages, her day beginning
with coffee, a brief look at the day's mail and then work. Today,
as she's scheduled to shoot at 12 p.m., she gives herself three
sinfully long hours to prepare before leaving for the salon.
Nabila's signature style is low key glamour, an individual statement
which makes her such an icon. Spending time in a huge walk-in closet,
surrounded by over a hundred pairs of shoes and oodles of clothing,
she shows me a shalwar kameez. "I do think the shalwar kameez
is a very sexy garment if worn properly," she says, rejecting
the myth that she owns none. "I just find it professionally
paralysing. I'd freeze if I had to work in one."
Hardly ever getting a full night's sleep, using the quiet hours
to work on her creative projects, Nabila looks better than she has
in 20 years. Her skin glows, she's lost weight and there's a halo
of colour around her, definitely a new mood after years of her monochromatic
black and white phase. And she's honest enough to admit to working
hard to achieve perfection, whether starvation, Atkins, or regular
botox injections.
"I've fired the cook," she says, confessing to the secret
of her newly found slimness. "Several cups of this plastic
is all I'll have till dinner," she says referring to her cup
of decaf coffee. Dinner, by the way, is a religious seven p.m. delivery
from Barbeque Tonight. So she fires the cook, replaces the dining
table with a pool table and exchanges cook books with a laminated
collection of take-away menus from the most remote restaurants of
Karachi. This, of course, is for the convenience of her sons, for
whenever they're visiting. "They have not craved for home-cooked
meals so far," she says. "When they do, we'll find a cook.
Till then, why bother?"
With the cook gone and her manager cum driver confined to one corner
of her two-storey apartment, Nabila's home becomes her sanctuary,
void of human clutter. There are three dogs, of course, but that's
just to break the monotony. If there's one thing to avoid, it's
the crime of repetitive ennui. There's nothing worse than being
predictable. "There was a time I would only wear black and
white," she says. "I owned about a hundred white shirts
until I noticed that everyone around me had become a clone. I immediately
changed my look."
Unexpected washes of colour, an aqua wall, turquoise shoes or a
crimson duvet in an otherwise stark, plastered interior are all
moves towards her new look. But it's still the simplicity of white
walls, steel and wood that she likes to be surrounded with. No pictures,
no carpets, no curtains, no fuss. These days she wants a bit of
kitsch, but without compromising on the minimalism too much. The
constantly yelping Pekinese dogs lend life to the serenity, the
noise they make replaced by soothing jazz or Italian opera when
they sleep.
While simplicity is essential, luxury is always a priority. Appreciating
the finer things in life whether good food, wine or a Cuban Coheba,
Nabila surrounds herself with personal indulgences, the most recent
being a beautiful outdoor jacuzzi. "This is a birthday present
to myself," she confesses. "I am obsessed with sun and
water so why bother with vacations when I can enjoy them sitting
here? Of course it's also an easy way of getting a permanent tan."
With no one around, privacy poses no problem.
By three p.m. the shoot has been completed to her satisfaction,
precision and perfection guaranteed. She's not easily impressed.
Endless cups of black decaf have been consumed and countless Marlboro
menthols have been puffed away. For someone who's so particular
about well-being and looking good, it's amazing how unhealthy her
lifestyle apparently seems to be. "I can't bother worrying
with what'll happen 20 years later. I have to live for now. Look
good today." Does that explain the botox? "Absolutely.
I'd rather spend money on a great tan and a good smile than buying
jewellery. I am my jewellery."
Feeling good about herself is an indispensable part of a successful
day at work which involves clients, meetings, projects and shoots,
admin and PR work. There's always a celebrity to makeover, a newcomer
to give breakthrough imaging to: she balances assignments over a
weekly work sheet. Always on the move, constantly traveling around
the world, she lives a hectic life.
Today she's scheduled to cut and walks into her salon a little before
her first appointment at four p.m. Her clients greet her with unreserved
reverence. Hair consultations, skin checks, image makeovers, colour
appraisals, style management
meetings, Nabila guarantees smooth,
professional guidance to all. Two hours at the salon glide by with
the accuracy of a Swiss watch.
Her working life ends around six p.m. and she moves on to a regular
session of yoga. Once home, Nabila prefers to switch off her work
mode unless it's for an intellectual brainstorming of ideas. Society
and parties pose no attraction for her. "Life is too short
to spend doing meaningless things," she says and wards off
most invitations, choosing to spend a quiet evening with her father,
followed by an intimate session with close friends.
Late at night or early in the morning, as she returns home, she
admits to the necessity for solitude. "I am a loner,"
she confesses. "If I'm out for too long I miss myself."
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