So much class! So much panache!

                                            
Lawson crescent is some sort of wisteria lane in its own way, pretty suburban in outlook, with no picket white fence though but well cultivated lawns sandwiched between well trimmed shrubs and colourful flowers adorn frontage of most houses, nice flashy cars crisscross the streets, superficial and vain housewives who gather at the curve of the crescent every weekend while throwing out trash gossip about other wives who are career women or in my Mom's case, a busy, independent career woman chatter for minutes on end. The break of dawn sees exercise and workout enthusiasts puffing and panting down the street with music flooding their ears from earpieces plugged into their earlobes whilst jugging away, drenched in sweat every morning trying to score a sizzling rack clock on the miles and with cute, well planned structures lining the street, you are awash daily with the ever smiling, mind-your-business residents giving off an air of perfection and happiness in their lives with their well combined expensive wardrobes, plush cars et al whilst stepping out of their houses but behind their persian curtains lie their foul-smelling, retch -inducing dirty laundries worthy of a national scandal sashay their way into the world running their lives. Somewhere on this crescent is where the Adagiris reside, welcome to my street.


It isn't  often people pack away from our street as most houses were bought or built by their occupants and very few are rented apartments but when such occasion happens where a new resident moves in, everyone wants to know about their newest neighbor afterall, for all we know, they might be serial killers or the satellite wife and kids of a senator hence most residents' pokenosing is so justified.

The day the adebowales were moving in was a busy tuesday morning, I was hurrying out at about past 8 in the morning with the early morning sun pouring its stinging rays on the city with a vengeance, buzz of human activity agog as everyone go about getting their proverbial daily bread.

 Super late for work, I hurried along the roadside pavement while their huge, grey steel haulage van shipping in their belongings drove past me, I couldn't be bothered as all I wanted at that moment was to be at work before 9 am and the thought of the snarly traffic I would encounter on the way made me very irritable. Joining a large crowd of office goers at the bus stop shoving and pushing each other to get a cab in that maddening rush hour, I maneuvered my way in between them and soon got a cab whose driver was a worker like myself and as with most of the other occupants who boarded the car  but taking advantage of the mad rush  to make some few coins on the way while we the occupants  were hoping somehow we could fly over the traffic to get to work, so just like the rest of us, the driver was eager to get to his place of work so naturally, his inner james bond trickled in  then suddenly, he started meandering through the traffic, his deft hands turning and swerving at the steering wheel expertly as his golf car, thankfully small, trickled in past cars and driving by the edge of the lane making our way through, it was quite fun playing with fire but trying not to get burnt with officers of the road safety corp who were on hand to mann traffic as none of us passengers complained about his driving even though we knew he was wrong. I got to work some few minutes to 9 am heaving a sigh of relief at being almost late, signed in my incoming register whilst dabbing with a handkerchief at the beads of sweat already formed on my brow and on getting to my desk, sank into my seat. I mumbled some prayers then started on the heap of files before  me.

Not long after, my phone rang and it was bisi, my street pal,

 "Hey Maj! Have you seen the newest chic in lawson?"

He rapped,

"Did you call me cos of that? Cos I just got to work and it's too early for this"

 I said firmly,

 "Chill man, wait till you see the curves on this shorty...wait, is that your bro am seeing already chyking her up?..".

 "Wait wah?...which of my brothers" I cut in,

 "I gotta go bro,talk to ya later",

 He sounded off as I yelled for him to wait but he was already gone, I redialed his number several times but he wouldn't pick up so with a shrug of resignation, I gave up and continued with my work. The day dragged along slowly and by midday, I'd begun to yawn tiredly, Vivian, my immediate boss kept asking if I was hungry but I said no.

 Finally, after what seemed like forever, it was closing time, I shut down my system and bolted out of the office. I hadn't settled down fully at home when Hamz started regaling me with simi adebowale's information which made me realise he was the brother bisi was talking about that morning already talking to her, I smiled, shaking my head sadly,

 " she schooled in britain, her family is loaded and she is a stylish lady who loves her designers", that's all I know for now so bro if you thinking of making a move, designers and schooled in britain is your cue to crush the thoughts, she's high maintenance, so don't even bother"

Hamz counseled, I shrugged indifferently and went about my home duties. Days passed and neither I nor Hamz could approach simi, she had the confidence of a queen, self assured and her fashion sense is effortlessly stylish, QT thought we were both silly competing between each other who would be the first to woo simi, quite frankly, I wasn't competing, I just have a thing for stylish women and had Hamz in my way.

Few days later, Bisi's elder brother was throwing a belated birthday party as he hadn't gathered enough money for the party on his birthday and while trying to be ingenious, he made his birthday invitation branded tank tops which he gave out to all his street buddies and trying to get simi and her siblings to feel welcomed and part of the community, he dropped some for them and they came. On the fateful day, Karl and QT chose not to attend, by 5pm that evening, loud music could be heard already blasting from bisi's compound, I showered, used my roll on and cologne and put on my tank top doubling as my gate pass, paired with a skinny jeans and my timberlands, with decorated wooden handbands on my wrists to take the attention off my skinny hands and I was set.

 On bouncing into the sitting room, my brothers took one glance at me and all dissolved into gales of giggles, I was embarrassed as I quickly assessed myself to see what fashion faux I'd committed but wasn't sure I did any wrong, Karl was the one who was the first to recover, laughing intermittently through his sentence, said I looked like a female model competing for america's next top model with my slim frame and leggy legs the skinny jeans gave me, my lips fell apart in horror as I dashed upstairs to take a second look at myself, the tank top was too fitted which I thought was cool, I didn't understand why my brothers were laughing but if they all unconsciously laughed the way they did, they were probably right so I took off my skinny jeans and raided my basket of discarded clothes to see what I could mix with the tank top as most of my trousers were fitted skinny jeans except my office pants which obviously isn't suitable for the occasion, so I picked up my school of hard knocks designer baggy jeans from way back in high school and put it on. I bounced courageously downstairs and my brothers nodded with approval with QT giving a thumbs up which I perceived to be fishy, hoping to God I don't get humiliated at the party but because my sense of ego wouldn't allow me submit myself to more scrutiny from my brothers, I went with my apparel before they saw something terrible about my get up whilst willing myself to fate, I sauntered out of the house while Hamz trudged slowly along behind me, perhaps too embarrassed to walk with me I thought.

The party started in earnest, with spirits and vodkas gulped freely and bodies gliding together in mesmerity of the beautiful sounds blasting from the speakers, I looked around, hoping to get sight of simi so I stay far away from her sight so she won't see me in my old school trousers and probably make fun of me, thinking so little of me and thus ruining any chance of me ever getting to talk to her someday, walking backwards while surreptitiously looking around for the sight of her when I felt myself bump into a tall stool with spikes from a jacket poking me all over, I turned around sharply to quickly apologised and saw an irritated face of simi looking up at me and at her spilled drink, shock mixed with fright at the same time at seeing her, I began to apologise profusely, she nodded and said it was ok before she took a quick head to toe glance  at me and bursted out laughing, asking what bad taste individual's closet I'd  raided to have gotten my baggy jeans from, my mouth went dry with humiliation at the thought of the exact scenario I was trying to avoid falling steeply at my feet, I burped uneasily, before exclaiming

 "Oh! My baggy jeans? It's vintage, trust me, they cost a fortune"

 I said, nodding continuously as if to emphasize my point, she  laughed hysterically, telling me she loved the angle I took and the humour therein,

 "It's cool, guys should rock "vintage" once in a while as a fashion statement, not only during old school week in university"

She enthused,

"I couldn't agree more...am Maj, I live..."

I tried to introduce myself as she cuts in

 "yea next house after the ndubisis, I know"

I nodded with a look of surprise which she caught and sent her giggling, she tried to explain,

"This street is something else, everyone knows a little something about everybody so some busybodies were less busy enough to fill  my mom in on everyone's 411"

 I mouthed an inaudible "Oh" with a nod,

 "I hope what they said about us was good?"

 I forced a smile,

 "Pretty much",

She also forced a smile, leaving a rather awkward silence between us,

 "Oh I love your jacket, it's...chic"

I managed to find the suitable word for it, her face suddenly lit up,

 "Oh it's balmain"

And with a heavy cloud of being unsure registered on her brow, she asked,

 "You do know balmain right? A designer label"

Thankfully I'd been keeping up with my fashion, else I would have taken up the usual cliche of being a man and with no much clue about fashion but girls love it when you have atleast some basic  knowledge about their stuff, from high end to the average joes..or is it janes, I cleared my throat,

"Sure, why wouldn't I know balmain, I don't live under a rock na,"

 I smiled, continuing in other to cement my impression,

" French design with olivier rousteing as its creative director, he does great pieces for women, the kardashian girls are proof of it"

With her mouth wide open in surprise, her palm slowly moving upwards instinctively to cover them, she recovered and snapped out of it, telling me she was impressed, I went on,

 "You must be one super stylish and rich girl to get your hands on a balmain "

 I quipped,

"I use to part-time as a stylist while schooling abroad, I got lucky to tend to quite an exclusive clientele whilst working for a top rate fashion house in britain, reality stars, socialites, etc so hence getting my hands on a lot of top designers and getting some for myself, I also have other designers like zimmerman, katie ermilio, tom ford, givenchy, I can go on",

 I smiled quite impressed, she downed the rest of her drink as her phone began to ring, it was her mother, asking her to get back home, she stood up to leave as I shook her hands,

 "It was nice to meet you simi"

 I said, she smiled,

 " I wish I could say the same after you almost injured me when you bumped into me but you got me at "vintage"

We both cracked with laughter,

 "See you around!"

She said and with a nod from me, she left and far off across the yard, I saw Hamz giving me a nod wearing a blank facial expression, I knew he was pained, so I just laughed, digging some dance moves as I tried to get into the party mood and as the party gradually winded to a close, I looked around for Hamz, pulling him away then threw my arm around his neck, trying to calm him down as we tottered out of the party venue.

 "I wanted that simi girl, you know that right? I spoke to her first"

Hamz said, I grinned mischievously,

 "It wasn't my fault we sorta hit it up on our first meet"



I responded,

 " You're a fucking b*tch!"

 He exclaimed and with a side eye and a mischievous smirk creeping into my lips, I whispered,

 "I know!"

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