Pimp Our Jeremy

WARNING: The following entry contains some facetious and/or satirical remarks regarding my ‘sexiness’ and related subject matter. The nature of these remarks should be apparent to those who know me, but in the interest of staving off interpretations of me as a self-absorbed Narcissus, here’s your disclaimer.

A few of my young female colleagues took an interest in pimping out my wardrobe fairly early on. For those of you who may be unfamiliar with the expression, it basically means an overhaul or makeover of sorts to make the thing to be pimped out more flashy, visually pleasing, and sexy. When I went to the happenin’ birthday party of Genna, an effervescent and delightfully British colleague of mine in the English department, she and Christine, another of my English department friends, decided to take up the cause as well. Unleash my God-given potential of being even more of a looker or something like that. Given, I got the numbers of two girls while at the party, so I wasn’t struggling too badly in that department. But I’m all for having girls dote on me, and in the interest of my fashion awareness and increasing the number of ladies gawking at me, I went along for the ride.

Our first payday was Wednesday, September 24. We were going to go to the mall that day, deemed by the girls as "Pimp Our Jeremy" day (a play on the MTV show "Pimp My Ride"), but there was a department meeting, and Genna had dinner plans, so we postponed it to Friday: an all-day affair. Alas, Asha, Rebecca, and Martine, other friends who wanted to help pimp me out, were unable to come on Friday, but they get me for subsequent rounds (actually, Asha already took me out to Karama, a knock-off bazaar kind of place here in Dubai, and both she and Rebecca got to give their opinions on clothes I bought in… but no, that’s another entry).

Friday. Genna, her husband Paul, Christine, and her boyfriend Morgan (also a teacher at our school; science) took me to the Mall of the Emirates. First stop: hairdresser’s. I had let my hair grow longish of late, not really sure what I wanted to do with it. The cut I got is similar to one I had for a while in the States, albeit spiked with hair wax. Already a hundred times better, the pimp-ers concurred. Then to the new digs. Tried on lots of clothes at different stores. Ultimately, I walked out with only one new outfit (it was rather expensive), but the jeans and shoes are nice staples that I’ve already built upon with other new (and decidedly less expensive) shirts, and I broadened my fashion horizons. The result? Lots of stares and wows. Seriously. Asha, Rebecca, and Martine were amazed. Asha actually stared at me for a full twenty seconds with her mouth wide open when she first saw the new look. Between that, the gym, and my increasingly adventurous spirit (see forthcoming entries on my Eid break travels), those ladies won’t stand a chance. I’m trying out my new look this weekend at the clubs (since they’ll be open for the first time since Ramadan). It may be October, but Dubai just got a little hotter.