anatomy of a wicked summer picnic

Oh, summer! The sun is shining comfortingly, the grass is lusciously inviting, and everywhere you feel life teeming voluptuously. So why not picnics? I love picnics. . unfortunately I only remember having a few in my childhood and never any more later, with no idea just why. So inspired by The Best Friend's picnic photos, I declared to D we must have a picnic, with work and general distractions seeing the months pass by, before eventually materialising in a very greedy, spontaneous affair up on the Tor in June. The Best Friend and her boyfriend were planning to visit Brighton for my birthday weekend, so like two happy chirpy girls, we decided that a picnic (and loads of photographs!) would be on the agenda. Within a mad flurry of messages exchanged via Facebook, we racked our brains for a theme-- and the excuse for a dress-- and like the vintage-lovin' girl that I am, suggested the 50's era. To say it was a wonderful picnic would be a massive understatement-- our amazing other-halves cooked a storm, provided delightful company and took us fantastic photographs-- here's to fantabulous picnics in the future, and here's how

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Pick a theme, and a dress!

Our theme was vintage. More specifically, 50s. Easy-peasy, with the number of 50s dresses available online, in the markets and in my wardrobe. . Denise was really excited about it, telling me that she immediately went to Ebay to scout for her dress. I was intending to wear this playful red-and-white polka-dotted dress when D presented me with this gorgeous floral dress on my birthday complete with a crinoline, telling me "You can wear this for the picnic!". . and it would be rude not to* ;)

And on a sidenote, I love crinolines since I was a little girl, always wanting to "steal" them off brides before the wonders of Ebay and Amazon made shopping internationally convenient, the prohibitively-high shipping costs notwithstanding. Living in the UK, however, I'd always end up buying other stuff other than crinolines, so D has been so sweet to get me one. Our dresses in place, Denise was quite upset that she forgot to pack her crinoline to Brighton. On Saturday, I happily quipped, "Why not buy one here?" and she went, "No, P! I'm not going to waste any money buying more crinolines". On Sunday, however, she told me, "P, let's rush down to town and grab a crinoline". Wahoo! It'd be the two of us bulldozing down the flat in our ethereally-light crinolines. .

So yes, pick a theme, and pick your dress. Execute a detailed plan on what you are planning to accessorise your look with the night before with your friend, and let your friend talk you into carrying a Chanel handbag for a picnic, because you just feel like being a little decadent. Nevermind if the men are not going to participate in the theme, even if D deadpans, "Shall we both be naked and in dicky-bows" because . . you know they're going to love the dresses and The Look. After all, it's that which adds to the fun and bonding with gurlfriends. . . 

The dress and crinoline are by Hell Bunny; shoes from Dolce & Gabanna; handbag by Chanel; headpiece by Accessorize; and pearl necklace worn as bracelet by Diva.

*"It would be rude not to"-- as what D always says. It would thus be rude not to quote him. 

A gorgeous picnic hamper-- with everything strapped in

I panicked a little when I realised that we had no wicker basket or anything pretty to put our food in. A cursory Google search revealed so many awesome picnic baskets, and then I found Fine Food Stores, thinking to myself that if an empty basket from them would set me back by about £60, why not top up £30 to get loads of luxury food. Denise replied me, "I thought a picnic was frugal! Like sandwiches!" and that ricocheted me back to earth. Oh.

No more caviar and smoked venison then.

Maybe I should get a regular wicker basket, I thought. Denise went to hunt for one but with no joy, and by Wednesday I had found a pretty cute and simple one at Bert's whilst I went shopping for kitchen organisation. Then D came home from his own kitchenware hunt and told me excitedly, "There was this shop, and this amazing lined picnic basket. Proper posh. I'll take you there tomorrow. You're gonna love it".  Brighton really has the most amazing stores, I may never want to leave. Lined in mint-green cloth, its beautiful utensils, porcelain plates and wine glasses were lovingly strapped in leather. And there was a salt-and-pepper shaker. And a utility knife. I fell in love. It went home with us on Friday, where I gleefully unveiled it to Denise, who went, "P I thought it was meant to be frugal?" but she fell in love too.

As I told D, I had no idea picnic baskets are so cool. He explained that the British take their picnics seriously, and hence everything is beautifully strapped up. 

Verdict: This beautiful and utilitarian (best of every world!) piece from England At Home is worth every penny. A picnic basket, is, afterall reusable.

Cook up a storm

Whilst Denise and I raced down various parts of Brighton to grab her crinoline and other groceries, the boys whipped up a storm in the kitchen, and we stepped back into a gastronomically-tantalising world that took over the flat. A failsafe food plan for picnics would include sandwiches, salads, cupcakes, dried and fresh fruits, chocolates, boiled eggs, and olives. Also, remember to bring lime and lemon for your drinks.

Part of our 'search' for food began the day before at the Brighton Saturday markets, where we hauled home biltong, fresh walnut bread, pretty cupcakes, chocolate truffles; whilst D proudly unveiled king prawn rings earlier that morning.

Otherwise, this guide provides you with 101 picnic recipes prepared under 20 minutes. 

Throw in your favourite drinks-- wine, juice, ginger beer-- and even a canister or two of coffee and tea.

 Essential notes

Cool bags (easily available from the 99p store, no matter how ugly) and non-leak tupperware are musts for storing your foodstuffs.

As are plastic bags for wrapping up the dirty cutlery and crockery-- you don't want them to dirty your beautiful picnic basket. Of course, never forget napkins and wet tissues. For the latter, a big packet of baby wipes are highly economical. Just in case.

Finally, a picnic mat where all of you can lounge on.

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Prime location and awesome weather

By the sea, in the park, in public gardens, on your roof garden, in a secret hideaway you discovered-- anywhere that catches your fancy.

D picked Hove Park, a sprawling beautiful expanse of greenery, and found us a shaded location under a few massive trees, away from boisterous children in other parts of the same park.

Set up your tripods!

Jason is an amazing photographer (who joked that he was invited for the weekend for his camera, which is not true!) and he came with his lenses and tripod, industriously snapping away, whilst D kept going, "We can eat first then take pictures later".

But,

(1) It is a sunny day and you don't want to wait for your makeup to melt in the sun
(2) Your lipstick will progressively fade away as you drink
(3) Capturing moments is what it's all about, too.

D shakes his head at the three cameras snapping photographs of everything, because the only other alternative would be to hire a photographer for the event, which would be less fun and more expensive and not to mention, over-the-top! I'm sure D is fast learning these principles. . .

♥

 

Food photography is mandatory

Because it helps you improve your photography skills. For a long time, I used to take horrendous pictures of everything, including framing a friend's shot so much so that her head looked like it was post-execution on a platter. My only saving graces were photographs of cats and food. Now after much practice with food photography, I think my people photography has improved by leaps and bounds. And of course, after picking up tips from friends and from D.

But that aside, food photography is mandatory because. .  you can trawl the pictures up in the middle of the night and drool. And, you know these pictures will always evoke lovely memories. 

Pictured: Salad with boiled eggs and Kettle Chips by D and Jason; D's Wicked Gourmet Sandwiches; pretty cupcakes purchased at below half-price (a.k.a. benefit of going to the market when it is about to close!); king prawn ring (we tucked into two); Crabbies' ginger beer.

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Feed the dogs

You know how in Mary Poppins, you are asked to Feed The Birds? Well, feed the dogs when you're picnicking! 

Denise accidentally dropped the rest of the biltong* onto her dress and the grass, so she threw some onto the grass, and the olfactory senses in Buster (the dog in the picture) and his girlfriend Betty immediately went into high alert. 

D took the whole packet and gave it to the owners, who joked if they could join our picnic. And four very happy dogs were wolfing down biltong. Karma Points for D!

*A type of cured meat from South Africa

Feed the humans 

Extra Karma Points for D! ;)

(My hair is only so beautiful because Denise is a genius!)

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Pose with your picnic basket

Hold on to the smart-looking strap to balance!

Take fun photographs 

The more WTF!?, the better. 

Celebrate friendship

It's one of the most beautiful blessings ever. What more when these memories are captured in picture-perfect moments, and in matching crinolines to boot.

Take beautiful portraits

It'd be criminal not to, when you're all dressed up. . 

Celebrate Love

Again, I secretly quipped to Denise, "I'm so happy we both found chefs". Although we do know it is beyond the Chef Factor :)

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Take a nap 

Loads of love

We could have done without the fanciness but not without the love. It's the company that maketh the difference. .

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 Have you had any picnics this summer? Do tell your experiences and your tips for the best picnics! x

celebrations

Hello! Hope you're having a fabulous weekend so far. It's my friend Lulu's wedding dinner tonight and so I drew her a card, depicting her as an Indian Goddess in a Chinese cheongsam because I always joke that she's my Chinese friend and I'm her Malay friend in terms of palate. Both their names start with 'Az' and I find it so cute! I was half-worried I wouldn't be able to deliver the card on time (rather than a speech that she asked me to record!) as I had pulled my muscle and felt like a handicapped unable to use my hands. Today, however, it is much better so I sat down to sketch and paint it digitally. My sketchbook is back in the UK but there was no space for art materials so all creations continue to be digital. I'm a little surprised at my 'digital abilities' and can only conclude that working on the blog design for Devilishly Pleasurable has taught me loads of things thus far :)

 

if love were liquid it would drown me. .

"Who knew heaven was in Singapore?" fellow fashion blogger Serene a.k.a. The Elegant Bohemian quipped in response to one of my responses about a chocolate buffet in my tag post here many weeks ago. Forgive my tardiness in posting it up-- there's hell alot of photographs since it's a monumental thing where your camera is saturated with shots everytime you go there. Yes, I have been there several times, the first time when I was eighteen with The Best Friend. Ever since then, I've always brought someone there for their first time, it's as though I am some sort of Chocolate Buffet Induction Extraordinaire a.k.a. I Who Lead Thee Into Chocolate And Vanity Temptation. This time, when I went back to Singapore for a holiday a few months back, I brought my very good friend Vee over for her virgin Chocolate Buffet Session. .

of secret societies and graduations

"It was bizarre. . like a Masonic ritual"

". . like a secret society"

". . Harry Potter-esque"

Let's take a break from shoes, away from the series of shoe posts. Last Saturday, I embarked on the 2+hr journey up to Cambridge for my graduation. Why am I telling you the journey time. . you'll understand later. It was an insane time, and so painfully ludicrous I cannot help but laugh.  

Characters of the day

Alright, we STILL are going to look at shoes. Can't help it. This was the first time D met Denise. . I was quite excited because this would be the first time D met any of my long-time friends, and this is my best friend. He was shaking his head in disbelief at us both dramatised and insane and taking photographs incessantly.

The Girl In The Red Cape; The Girl in the Leopard Print Coat; and The Man Channeling Oscar Wilde.

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. . .

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.