POSTCARD: The Made-for-TV Tribe
ARUSHA, Tanzania—The Maasai chick shoved three beaded bracelets in my face, “sister, look at my bracelets. Consumable price, good price.” When she saw me looking at her rather than of at the jewelry, at her red cloak, shaved head and brightly colored hoop necklace, she changed her chip in a attack. “1000 for a bracelet and a picture, sister, 1000. Take a envisage with me.”
The Maasai are a Tanzanian tribe noted for their steadfast adherence to their traditions. Men are most identified by the purple and red cloaked attire and their wooden walking sticks; the women often also erode cloaks, have bare heads and wear dangly beaded-and-spangled earrings from a enthralling at the top of their ear. Most still live in simple huts or houses and herd bullocks for a living. Many Maasai choose this low-cost lifestyle consciously, not because of a deficit of money. Upon seeing a teenaged Maasai drive an mediocre-sized herd of around 20 cattle across a rural highway, I asked a state friend how much one of the cows was worth. He estimated 400,000 Shillings, or $266; the typical annual income in Tanzania is $564. When I visited a top gynecological clinic in Arusha, over half the patrons were Maasai women.
The contrast between the Maasai’s wealth and lifestyle has made them a locus for casing attention. A majority of tourist paintings, postcards, and other souvenirs high point images of Maasai, even though they make up only 1.3 percent of the civil population. One could argue that all this external attention is excessive at kindest and patronizing at worst. Of course “wazungu,” as foreigners are called here, would be obsessed with a Tanzanian ethnic band that fits their superficial stereotype of the backward, tribal African. When I first came here I felt bad that the Maasai were at the mercy of to such insidious curiosity about why they chose to live in a decidedly “unmodern” way.
Art of stone
Since he rupture on to the scene in the early 1960s, Kenneth Jay Lane has bedecked some of the fraternitys most glamorous women with fake jewels that are more beautiful, more brilliant and more opulent than the real thing. His fabulous necklaces, rings, brooches and cuffs have been frazzled by Elizabeth Taylor, Jacqueline Onassis, the Duchess of Windsor and, more recently, Sienna Miller and the Olsen twins.
The Duchess of Windsor is rumoured to have been buried in one of his jewelled belts, and Princess Diana cast-off to pop into his Knightsbridge shop to buy a pair of earrings after a bowl of spaghetti in San Lorenzo, across the track. The American jewellery designer has almost single-handedly made garments jewellery cool.
The indefatigable Lane, now 80 and on a shortened visit to London, is holding court on a hot summers day in the St James Concourse showroom of the leading London jewellery dealer Harry Fane. Lane is evidently very well connected: a steady stream of visitors pay calls, including the missus of the former Nizam of Hyderabad, while Princess Michael of Kent is expected any two shakes of a lamb's tail log. A couple of marchionesses have dropped by, but, he says, no duchesses. Patently, this is unusual.
The jewellery designer cuts a dapper suppose in a mustard-coloured suit with blue shirt and tie, loafers without socks. I never be in socks in summer,



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