Tatler ---and its monkeys

Ever since I got back home from State, I discovered many new things which I find still rather interesting and somewhat can developed into a series of newborn desires and ambitions.

One among those that I discovered was Tatler Magazine and its competitior, the Prestige Magazine. These magazines are the magazines of those so-called THE social ELITES or Socialites - AKA The JAKARTANS or The JAKS or the bourgeois of Jakarta - OR..THE MONKEYS.

Yes, The monkeys. Nothing demeaning. I'm not trying to or about to "de-mean" the socialites pictured in the magazine. I am only quoting what my friend's father referred to those who are often show up in those magazines. He call them as such even though he knew most of them.
Come to think of it. It's funny that I didn't even object to that notion.

I must admit. I am not a big fan of the magazine. As often as I roll the pages, each time on every once a while, I would be sitting in a hair salon and reading them, I would see some familiar faces constantly pictured there. Quite unfortunate, these familiar faces are those that I also knew.

However, I salute to the idea that by now, there has seems to be more people whose existence want to be seen in the magazines than ever. The extreme notion seems to point that if your picture was there among all those so-called Monkeys, you would be considered THE PERSON. It proves a point, which one of them from business stand point,that they are definitely making a very profitable business.

Anyway, the reason why I dislike it, is simply because, somehow, I couldn't stand seeing all those apologetic faces whose females' look are the same, from hair to toes, from side shoulder to another, horizontally or vertically--- makes you wonder most time if they have actually gone to the same make-up artist or hair salon. Then, you would see the familiar faces of your peers (from back in State) being interviewed, photographed, model-like touched-up, and a whole other nine yards of fashion bliss because they are happen to be the children of the already-so-important officials or businessmen in the city.

Oops..one can argue. That is the whole point of being in that magazine. You don't need to achieve something to have your picture taken. You don't need to be a prime minister (not that we have any), The sultan, or other head of state for your profile to be covered as a headline. You as a matter of fact don't need to be anything else...but..extremely rich and famous! Then, you will be all set.

It aggravates me literally to the heart also that the events covered were mostly have nothing to do with charity events -- as you would probably see in socialites' magazines abroad.

Maybe, I have looked into a totally different magazine.

or Maybe, I have seen it as it is. A magazine that would depict the upscale of the elites and for people to actually see what or how people can reach UP to their level. They are portrayed, profiled and perhaps, to the extend, paraded around for people to see. So that most people can see the kind of euphoria they are having. How woo-ing it can get to be at their comforts.

One way or another, I feel as I have been dragged into the notion that irregardless of how ridiculous these monkeys look, it would be amazing to have my profile portrayed in the magazine. Strangely enough, I feel as if I wanted to be in there for a definite time. As if all of these hard work can be measured on how many times I can see myself in there. It's a one scary thought slowly creeping into my ordinary humble sense that has turned me into an ambition towards vanity.

Monkeys can climb high and climb back down. They can swing from one side to the other, one tree to another. They also can gather up and make the best of their performances. Whether people (human) are watching,or laughing at them, they don't care. As is probably what the monkey is saying, "..I can learn like you, walk like you, and do other things you normally do, but can you jump and swing as fast as I could?...."

Amazing..

Have I slowly turned myself into a monkey?