When friends shade
We waited for over an hour for the phone to ding, signalling that our table at the local bar we had put our names down for was ready. It never did. Impatient, we decided to head out anyways. After about a 5 mins walk, we arrived at our location. A nondescript bar tucked away on the corner of Queen street in downtown Toronto.
The doorman was in conversation with two young men who we assumed were also looking for a table when we arrived. He let them in after a little while. We approached him about our table, wondering why we hadn’t been summoned as promised after our long wait. He provided no real explanation. It was clear at that time of night that they had long abandoned their call ahead list and were now catering to walk-ins. We waited for a few more minutes while he checked to see if he had anything available ready to explode if it turned out that he had given the last few spots to the walk-ins ahead of us. COVID-19 restrictions have made a night out to the bar a competitive affair.
Luckily it wasn’t that kind of night. He ushered us in and showed us to our seats in the middle of the bar next to a group of four. Friends or a double date? We couldn’t tell. We took our seats at the end of the high table, ordered some drinks and surveyed our surroundings. The bar was dimly lit giving the small space an intimate, cozy vibe. The ambience and late night food service at this particular location is part of its appeal. The crowd was the usual mismatch of casual cool hipsters and trendy fashionistas often spotted on the streets of the hip Queen street neighbourhood.
Our conversation soon turned to beauty. I shared that I wanted to have a CoolSculpting procedure done to get rid of the small sack of fat under my chin to improve my profile. My friends were appropriately horrified, reminding me of Eva Evangelista’s unfortunate experience with the procedure. “You don’t have a double chin, you look great!” they reassured me like good friends. I took in the compliments. Another friend, who looks remarkably young for her age, shared her botox secrets. “Oh wow! So you’re telling me all this isn’t natural?” I teased. This was met with silence. The conversation continued.
The group of four soon left and were replaced by a couple. The young fashionably dressed woman took a seat next to me and placed her designer bag on the table for all to observe. And observe we did but not without disdain. We soon launched into a conversation about the young Toronto woman and her relationship with designer fashion. Bags in particular. I listened to stories of girls maxing out their credit cards on elaborate purchases to enhance their street cred and of parents indulging their children because they didn’t want them associated with the poor immigrant lifestyle they had been raised with. My friend shared her obsession with designer fashion, recounting how long she had saved for her first designer purchase, a classic Louis Vuitton monogram satchel.
I was silent for most of the conversation. Towards the end, I declared that I had absolutely no interest in designer fashion, preferring to achieve the look for less. “Or maybe it’s because you can’t afford it” my youthful friend offered sweetly. Touché. We finished our second drinks and decided it was time to head to the next bar.
As I lay in bed the next morning I thought about how I had been shaded, perhaps deservingly so, and wondered how common this was in female friendships.
…
[Throw] Shade
: Shield from direct light; shadow
: To say a rude or slick comment towards another person with little or no one else catching the insult except who it was directed towards.
from Urban Dictionary
