and summer puts you under its spell. . .

Summer is approaching and the beaches are filled with people. Brighton is bustling, the flowers are blossoming and it is teeming with life everywhere as the sun starts to shine brighter, the days get longer, and life gets a little warmer. In the meantime, I have been holding my breath and crossing my fingers and toes till they start to spasm, going through rounds of interviews in the fight for two (or maybe one) places, and having a high fever and bad cold on the day of the final round itself. . and finally got word that I got into the course of my choice! This autumn marks the beginning of my last three years of studies. D keeps calling me Dr P prematurely now, and we have a mighty good laugh about it. . and I think I can finally start to blog properly now that the suspense and stress is over, whilst remembering that I still do have loads of winter shots swimming around in my hard disk.  Some pictures over the weeks. .

The day I got my offer letter-- I guess I will forever remember 20 April 2011. . I remember how I was fretting non-stop when I was awaiting the outcome of my Masters applications back in 2009. And here came another round of fretting, to be finally broken into a smile. .

H&M striped dress; Dolce & Gabanna shoes; vintage snake cuff and Warehouse cuff; vintage navy leather belt; vintage earrings

  

And of course, the amazing D will always convince me to be able to have breakfast even if it's 10 more minutes to me going off to work :)

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Stark contrast to the more proper-looking outfit above. The sort of things (i.e. clothes that have been worn previously for a couple of hours) you throw together on a lazy, sunny Sunday afternoon when you're about to walk to the supermarket at 5pm only to realise that all the shops are closed. . . Eccentric shades complete the look.

Charlotte Russe dress; Zara Men denim shirt; Diva bangle; vintage green leather handbag; Accessorize necklace; Aldo shades; vintage clip-on earrings

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The Rambling Red Rose seems to be a staple. Whether on cold nights or warm evenings, whether eyes are lined with colours or shaded in a style slightly inspired by racoons. . 

 Superdrug red fabric rose; vintage faux fur coat

 

Primark floral dress

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I am somewhat guilty about how much I am The Flower Destroyer. I.e. of buds languishing in vases in pubs and restaurants. I cannot help but 'help them to bloom' before making art out of them. I remember watching the man in Art Attack make his ingenious mosaics, and perhaps here's me trying my hands at it.

When the weather warms up, The Chocolate Robber visits less. Clearly, all she wants is a warm sofa. Biatch! Here's her quite happily having leaves fall atop her. I always tell D cats are the best creatures to learn from-- all you have to do is display yourself somewhere and people will fuss over you. .

One of my student's mother baked me an amazing fresh cream cake with fruits studded in the sponge. .  Needless to say we devoured it in two evenings. . . 

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My favourite human being and myself. . enjoying the sunshine as it streams into the flat. The one who has been rooting for me, supporting my mad decisions, and telling me to stop fretting for the past few weeks. And the one who patiently escorted me to London for my last round of interviews when I was down with fever and a cold. . 

Discovering that jackfruit is available here in tins! Gosh, I love its flavour. Tropical fruits (durians, rambutans, lychees, jackfruits) have got such a deep flavour and are so satiating that I can never have enough. I will always be a tropical girl at heart. .

Whilst teaching I discovered this gorgeous place with amazing grand buildings, and overlooking a magnificent park and the sea. Plus their bathrooms are twice the size of my living room-- it got me fantasising a huge chrome bathtub, loads of plants, a dedicated makeup counter, a hugeass sofa, and ornate mirrors leaning against the walls. I am officially jealous and am now plotting to get a place there. . You see, the building even comes with those ancient lifts with doors you have to twist open yourself and a metal gate you have to push with all your might and strength to enter-- charming! Perhaps I sound mad now, but I remember how the first (and only other) time I came across these lifts was in some old building in Cambridge with June. We were half-afraid it wouldn't work. . and then we vowed to return for photos, but never did.

Blooming daffodils. . .

And gorgeous Brighton/Hove. Have a lovely Easter weekend everyone! :)

the devil is a teeze, and the lady is a vamp

 It's been a little break I've taken from Devilishly Pleasurable, the clocks have adjusted, and in the thick of an extremely busy week leading up to a huge make-or-break event for me, I have fallen sick. My head is in the clouds and everything is dancing. Which is really bad news. Once every few days, the devil standing on my left shoulder whispers into my ear, "Blog! Those shoes!" and then the angel standing on the other coos, "Blog! Those shoes!". And so I've caved in while sniffing away. So yes, Those Shoes. Bordello Teeze in red and white polkadots. The most comfortable six-inches I have ever worn-- after all they are made for dancers (whilst I pretend that I am one).

One Thursday night D told me about some event called Lock In At The Rock Inn and I said, "ooh I can dress up!".

"That's what I told the friend who recommended me, 'The girl would be so excited to dress up!' ". And dress up I did. This beautiful vintage dress I got from Cambridge but had never worn thus far got belted up with my mom's awesome soft red leather belt. But prior to that, I had wandered into a shop and found a black bob wig which looks a little like the pink one Denise wore for Halloween. And I danced around the flat pretending to look like Catherine Zeta-Jones in Chicago, stuffing my thick crown of hair into it. Recently, too, we stumbled upon this brand of feather eyelashes called Stargazer. If you thought that my previous feather eyelash exploits were mad enough, this brand carries those with enough flamboyance to end all flamboyance. Although the base is a little flimsy, the lashes are SO huge I feel like there's a glamorous arachnid on my eyelids, flanked by sparkly gold tips. Funnily enough, the extra-large eyes as a result, coupled with the bob makes me look so much younger, and friendlier for a change. .  With yet another new face, I told the lucky devil he had a new girlfriend for the night. Normally he calls me P44124, P92738 (kinda like Stargate planet addresses haha) and then that night we reverted to my real name, for a change.

 

 

 

Strangely enough, the contrasting Flower Of Life pattern tights from Pamela Mann (which he picked out) worked wickedly with the shoes. It was an experiment-- as was the contrasting of the blue with the red-- and I accessorised with some diamond stud earrings, a large gold necklace and a red Diva fabric rose ring, before slipping on a red trench coat and a quilted Chanel handbag. Off and ready for the night! Unfortunately, the event was extremely bizarre and it was slightly discomforting when people started asking me, "Are you going up to perform?". Still, we had a good time chatting over drinks after the event, and then headed back into Brighton town proper for some live music. . And of course, D had taken me more amazing photographs I was drooling over. .

 

Meanwhile in some underground bar, some girl came over and asked to take photographs of my legs/shoes because she was rather amazed by it. Actually the whole night, I was approached by many girls regarding my shoes/tights/wig (shiny hair!)/feather eyelashes, and I had to explain that I went to some event earlier on. And that I don't normally walk around looking like that (even if that isn't necessarily a bad thing). So she happily snapped away, and took some for D and myself. Following which I became trigger-happy documenting my shoes too. .

 "This is like some CSI crime scene shot with a disembodied leg"-- D. Hah!

And of course I have to thank D for helping me decide on the colour of the shoes. I was having a tussle between black/white and red/white, where this Rational Practical Self keeps telling me I need practical shoes (or at least practical colours) because once in a while do I look at all my shoes and realise I have no practical ones save for knee-high walking boots. And he convinced me to accept my Real Love for the red/white pair. . which I keep prancing about it indoors. Hey, it's my first pair of new shoes in more than half a year. . and also a reward for an entire week of non-stop hard work earlier this month :)

I hope to be able to drop by your sites when the mayhem of this week (and the illness) blows over. . Have a glorious week ahead xxx

i saw three ships come sailing by

 

I'm just about to fly back to Singapore and this is a timed post. I'm guessing that by now, I've taken the 2-hour ride to Heathrow, checked in three hours early, and then am waiting to sit on the 13-hour flight back. My second leg of the return ticket was expiring soon, and after the ordeal last December, I finally got the passport back and stopped feeling like an alien. So one more big expenditure (why are flights so expensive!) but I'll be home for Chinese New Year-- a time of warmth and festivities, and not to mention awesome food. 2009/10 was the first time I spent CNY and Christmas away from home, so I'm really glad to go back this time. Presents were bought on Monday (I think they're all gonna love it) as compared to the last round when it was hasty and I didn't buy things for many people. Funny how being caught in a sort of financial bind can make you slightly more generous, but it's for the people I love. These pictures were taken on my last trip back in April-- a 1.5 week trip that I extended to 3+ weeks because my students were sweet enough to ask me to teach them despite the brevity of the vacation. As usual, Lulu was the mastermind behind these gorgeous shots, taken on the beach near her sister's seaside house which we stayed over at, with many fond memories of us studying for our political sociology paper there, a PJ party and loads of camwhoring. The dress was new, purchased when us four went on an impromptu shopping trip after a Rice Table session and slightly traumatised by lecherous-looking people who took our photos without permission at dinner; but we picked up pretty summer dresses after that before embarking on a mad Durian Fest by the roadside and a crazy night of non-stop yakking. Lulu and I were left by the next day after lunch and threading, and I can't wait to see her again. It was a little strange how my hair was oddly straight that morning, and I did not pack a belt into my overnighter bag, making the look a little not me, and what Lulu called "Pocahontas".

I hope I'll be able to blog from Singapore, or at least put in a few filler posts in the meantime! See you soon xxx

happy rufflicious twenty eleven!

Life has been a bit of a crazy whirlwind since Christmas eve. Loads of feasting of every sort, as well as my Come To UK And Be A Teetotaller Fantasy mocking at me and saying "kiss my arse". Nevertheless, it's the New Year already! Twenty Eleven. . what a fulfilling the last year has been, in a very different sense from all my other years, especially in making me more resilient and certain about the Leaps I take. Here's another long PhotoFest of a post-- saying goodbye to 2010, wrapped up in the ribbon bows of beautiful revelations and immense gratitude; and a hello to 2011.

baby steps to better blogging-- graduating to new heights!

The emergence of the blogosphere as a considerable force needs no introduction. It used to be the question, how to be a better person, that philosophers such as Epictetus, Balthasar Gracian and Marcus Aurelis would meditate upon-- a contemplation that remains even more relevant today. Hyperfragmentation in post-modernity, however, dictates that separate, distinct pigeonholes of categorisations, and guides on how to be a better (insert title) abound. And so it is for fashion bloggers in this week's Friend Friday, focusing on the blogging process and evolution, best encapsulated as 'Baby Steps to Better Blogging-- Graduating to New Heights!'

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tropical creatures reveling in boots and coats and capes

 

About a year ago before I left Sing, The Best Friend told me, "P I don't know how you can dare to leave your whole life and start a brand new life elsewhere". Because I wasn't intending to go back to live anytime soon. And because I'd never been to Europe before, much less England. Knew no one in England (D wasn't back in the country yet). Basically I was walking into unknown turf with a few luggages I was struggling with and five boxes of stuff to be shipped over (also because D said, "ship everything", but I shipped half). This February, Denise excitedly Skyped me about some scheme for work in England. Oh God. My best friend coming to live in England?? What could be better! March and April followed, she underwent interviews and called me up, "P I GOT THE JOB!". Mid-September came, and she landed in England for the first time too. About two weeks ago, I took a break from packing up my dorm room and boarded the train to Stevenage. It was certainly slightly surreal that we are both in the UK. "Why are you so dressed up?" she asked me "It's just the cape. And I'm meeting you I have to look good", I replied. "You know I was panicking because I was meeting you and my skirts are all being shipped over. I have to dress up to meet you too!" she laughed. And off we went for lunch and to celebrate her birthday with her colleague batch from Sing, before heading off to shop on our own and where I introduced her to English Cream Tea With Scones And Clotted Cream for the first time. As we walked to her temporary accommodation we were musing about how natural it felt that we were both on a foreign land and adjusted quickly. . and it just seemed very matter-of-factly that we were both here eight years since we've known each other. We then shopped online for furniture (since she's moving into her own first real place too!) and tried on each other's stuff laughing at how Becks & Suze it feels. You see, we both love the Shopaholic series, appealing to the vain frivolities in us, which we discovered when we were eighteen. Except we can never be sure who is really Becks and who is Suze-- perhaps a combination-- and I'm sure that neither of us want a Tarkie (although he looked surprisingly good in the movie).  She thinks D sounds exactly like Luke, which makes me laugh, and then I remembered reading something in Mini Shopaholic that sounds something like "Tarquin adores Suze so much [...] whilst Luke always looks at me with suspicion as though I am up to no good all the time. Which I am not." That sentence hit me hard. D always thinks I am up to no good-- I can't help having a cheeky face, it's been there since young!-- even when I'm just smiling whilst innocently shopping he'll tell his mom (who also thinks I'm cheeky. Oh God) I have something up my (non-existent) sleeves. We then proceeded to take loads of photographs, happy that we're both at last able to revel in coats and boots that we could only dream of and try for fun in Zara whilst living in tropical Singapore. . .

hello from brighton!

"i've had the time of my life. . ."

Moving, moving, whoosh!
Moving can be so fun and you can spend hours on end trawling through sites looking for the best bargains to suit your budget (I have sworn I will not go mad). I think I am at least 30% better in bargain-hunting now. Apart from 50-cents clothes and books I was always so proud of in Sing, or the occasional amazing sales haul, I think I am stupendously bad in thinking what a good bargain is. I would pick out something that is 50% cheaper than I thought it would be, present it proudly to my gurlfriends, who would in turn find something even cheaper and. . well, I give up. Maybe it's a Singaporean thang--they give you the best money-saving tips ever lol. Or so I discovered when I moved here and befriended a handful of fellow locals. So I've been too excited I cannot sleep. This is bad. I look for stuff and realise, oh no, it's 4am, so I lay down. But you know how when you're awake life can be so wonderful you don't want to go to sleep (and when you're asleep you enjoy it so much you don't want to wake up!), I get up half an hour later and do more! The day has begun and it is a rare day when I see the sun rise so I dress up and go out and pick up stuff. I move on Friday so I want to set up most of the house over the weekend and therefore have gotten a complete game plan of how and where to store what, and assembled an array of things to deliver over to my current place so I can get crackin' immediately. You know, things like towels, incense, wall hangings and satin sheets. Except that posting suddenly seems slower than I remember. Which is getting me slightly worried.

june's farewell

With every school I go to, there is always someone who makes it inevitably memorable, right from kindergarten when I knew a girl called Cindy. We were really close and being young (and naive hah), we pledged to be 'friends forever', but lost contact after a few years. The last time I saw her was during Speech Day where we both won prizes. In primary school, the person who stands out most would be Jane. Bound by a mutual love for Prince William, Backstreet Boys, blond guys and a few dreams, I remember cutting classes with her, her room full of posters and a series of photographs where we made fun of the statues at Madam Tussaud's when it came to Singapore. Shakespeare had a cellphone by his ear, and Prince Charles had his necktie in his mouth. Nuff said. Doing my O'Levels, I met Denise a.k.a. The Best Friend. We'd sketch, read magazines surreptitiously under our desks and were the only two absent from holiday physics lessons because. . we didn't even know that existed. As we grew up we became full-fledged shoe fiends, lending each other shoes as we were of the same size, and she'd help me smuggle shoes home; it'd be customary for us to hit Mango sales together and systematically trek through about seven branches, shortlisting pieces with an aching heart, before sitting down for coffee, cake and gossip in her dramatic fashion complete with insane gesticulations and wild tonalities. Vee came next, in junior college, where we'd muse about everything from the serious to the banal. We went on to different universities, but made it a point to meet and chat about everything from shoes to sociology (we both took that) over chocolate cake and Indian food. And of course, Lulu in university. Lulu noticed me early, telling her friend I was a bimbo probably because of my shoes (hah!) and then a semester later, our first interaction was over a tutorial swap. Months on, I received a strange text from a stranger (i.e. her) asking me advice on makeup brushes, which I did anyway. Classical sociological theory was instrumental in binding us as friends, from which she inducted me into the official echelons of camwhorism-- "P I have more photos of you than of anyone else"--and we'd be each other's company remotely over MSN during report season, whilst forging an alliance against Backstabbing Biatches. Somehow our friendship has gone stronger quite oddly ever since I left Singapore, where we drool at leather bags (her obsession) together over Skype and she tells me she has a newfound love for high heels (my lust), and furrow our brows over our 38-year old men that we met around the same time (is that scary or what?).

And so I packed off to Cam, wondering just who'd I meet next. First day of classes, I met June, a policewoman (!?) from South Korea. The first thing I thought was that she's really beautiful (I mean, I can't see people's personality and IQ from an initial glance, right?) and then I realised she loved shoes too ("no pain no gain!"). We'd bribe each other to wake up for classes during the cold winter by saying, "Okay we'll go for breakfast and shop after that" or text each other early in the morning for other reasons. And then I inducted her into the custom of eating cake, which she initially found 'too sweet' only to constantly tell me later on "Let's go for cake". Before long, we found ourselves in the same colour combinations unanimously and uncannily-- something that happens with close friends and myself. Whilst I continue to marvel at how on earth she stays so skinny if she drinks beer like water for hours weekly. We had no lessons for our last term, but continued to meet up regularly-- filled with insane laughter and her wry humour. What cracked me up was how we unanimously said, "This last term is a holiday! No classes! We will just have to write the thesis during the last month!" with no sense of shame. Oh well. I'm just too glad I met her. 

kidnapped to glastonbury

gold gladiators in the coptic gale

the dilemma behind shortlisting shoes

tales in turquoise

50s girl

derelict markets

There are some things that seem to last forever; and no, they don't have to be diamonds of which their alleged perpetuity really is part of a clever DeBeers marketing campaign back in the day. I remember this bangle which I had at 2-- set in Indian stones which I used to play dress-up with. It remains near and dear to me. The Mother's collection of belts, too, which probably are older than I am-- gorgeous vintage exquisite leather belts that I know I should purchase rather than my nonsensical knockoffs. I remember wearing pom-pom or anklet socks as a child too-- something that could be found at every shop in some housing estate in Singapore, but now only to be found in sex stores online. Or the choker I made from fabric roses in pots at home whilst studying for my A-Levels, thereby rendering all the fake flower pots bald during that period. Slightly less far back in memories would be this dress. One morning in Brisbane my cousin and I hopped onto a train to the factory outlet complex. A few hours and kebabs later I left satiated whilst wondering how I would fit everything to bring to Melbourne. This dress was one of the hauls. I even remember that it was only AUD$10. That's how happy I was with it.