The most widely-read India blogger was stumbling around SoHo last night trying to decipher the mystery of the two-thousand-dollar handbag. He’s up for a journalism prize about fiscal conservatism, and while his wife looked through the boutique, he was putting that principle into practice.

I shrugged helplessly. ‘It’s like electronics,’ I said. ‘You’ll never understand it, you just have to accept it.’ Half a block later we left the women at the curb while we looked at Kidrobot, a temple to collectibles and Japanese animation.

It would have been beautiful gender payback, except that they’re charging two hundred dollars for frickin’ action figures. We didn’t get that either. But an obscure M.I.A. remix was on the stereo, and we’d made snarky comments about feminine things, so I felt honor-bound to make vague gestures of enthusiasm visible to the sidewalk.

Tonight at the Bastiat Prize dinner, Amit finds out whether he goes home with a candlestick. But making the shortlist is itself a kind of infamy. Go Varma!

Update: Friday evening, SAJA is hosting a meetup with Amit, Sree et al at Leela Lounge in Manhattan. Do swing by.

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