Before the snow started to fall, I had uncovered loads of clothes that I stored away in boxes for the past year. Excitedly, I drew up a few image sets and decided to execute them, with the aid of tights, some scarves and big coats to keep myself warm. Because last year was supposed to be the worst winter in the past twenty years or so of British history, and I survived extraordinarily well wearing summer clothes inside. I had no idea just why-- in about 24 degree celsius air-conditioned rooms in Singapore, I would freeze, tremble and practically reverberate, and everyone would sympathetically lend their jackets to me. Australian winters were hell to me, and I always piled up. But I found the British winter strangely comforting, even when native Brits were having their teeth chattering, I thought it a little odd-- maybe I had somewhat turned mutant! So I stupidly thought this year would be no kick. And then the snows rained down, the temperatures plummeted-- alright, living by the coast does have fierce winters. Tights will not suffice. This was my very last execution of my beautiful plans that have since witnessed their evanescence. .
When I first brought this bronzey/gold cardigan back from the jumble sale at SPCA (Singapore), my mother thought I was a little crazy. Sure, its quality was not pristine, with a little thread running at the end, but with such a beautiful colour, a rather luxurious texture, and a 20p price tag, I thought, why not. My mother loves to point out that I have a lot of impractical nonsense that I might only wear once, declaring all proudly that I wore something 'twice!' but the point is, somedays when you wake up and you feel like a certain look, you know you have that something to pull out, even if it only gets worn about 2 years later. In my opinion, it is better to have worn everything in your closet rather than let them pile up still with their price tags because you 1. don't 'dare' to wear them 2. don't 'dare' to spoil them. That sounds rather nonsensical-- I buy my clothes to wear them! So, two years, a journey in a cardboard box across the oceans later and a trip from Cambridge to Brighton later, this cardigan found its way into a wire basket where my knits are. From the start when I first set eyes on it, I knew it had to go with red. The perfect pop of colour in winter. Well, who am I kidding, it is the perfect pop of colour anytime. On my lips, on my bed, on my legs, everywhere.
I awoke abnormally early that Sunday and decided to listen to my body for once and climb out of my comfortable bed. You see, when you have lived for a year on a threadbare-thin single mattress with its springs poking out menacingly in a dorm room, and with the cleaner throwing clean sheets on the bare floor outside (and not putting them on a plastic sheet!), and you finally buy a king-sized memory foam bed complete with luxurious sheets, you want to spend every moment in bed. Although D will just tell you I love to sleep and am talking shite. Ran some errands, took a long luxurious bath, and then proceeded to get dressed. The red dress beneath is really a thin cotton-blend bell-sleeved dress from Nichii (Singapore) that I keep wearing all the time, and the soft leather belt is my mother's. Sometimes I think I was a Christmas tree in the past life the way I pile 'decorations' on myself, so this round I put on a black sequin choker from Diva, python-print tights from Elle, long lace gloves, and popped a gorgeous black vintage velvet hat I got from some charity shop in Brighton a week ago. I slipped my feet into black suede Faith boots with a patent front and heels (we probably need better photos of that) and put on a Tivoli faux fur coat (last seen here). Waiting for D, I turned on Photobooth, channeled my inner snake courtesy of my python legs, and slithered away taking photographs.
He Who Calls Me Vain (and tells me he needs more flamboyant clothes at the same time), of course, joined in. And I realised we both looked like two retro people. Nice.
We walked around central Brighton,then found Giggling Squid. Its lunchtime menu seemed awesome-- an appetizer and a main for between £5 to £6.50 per head. Wow. It was about 430pm and we thought we were too late, but why not go in. The owner went immediately, "Even though it's a little late, we'll still give you our lunchtime special" and proceeded to pass us the menus. D looked at me later, saying, "How did he know?!". So I simply said, "He's got a Singaporean accent. He knows people like to make their money's worth", trying to simplify the concept of 'kiasu' for him. Turns out, that man really was from Singapore, and from my neighbourhood no less!
And the food was beyond awesome. Most definitely were fresh Thai herbs used. I had dumplings and a cashew chicken stir fry, whilst he had vegetable tempura and prawn Tom Yum. And for that price? I'd give them 4.8/5.
a.k.a "One more photo, please". .
Pretty Brighton all lit up. . this is the main street, and tucked into lanes here and there are loads of treasures. I think they are somewhat like labyrinths-- you wander it, get lost, and everytime you go you discover something new.