it was an itsy bitsy teeny weeny. . .

Chinese New Year was traditionally that one time of the year when people of my parents' generation would have new clothes, being financially-impoverished. My parents recount many stories of how they would look forward to more food on the table, their yearly treat of soft drinks and everything a child would love. Today we have much more to the point of excessiveness; nevertheless, new clothes are still purchased (some even make sure they have brand new undergarments and socks!), whether to mark a new year or as an excuse for more. As for me, CNY is a time of togetherness and tapping into my roots, and a time of gratitude. The obsessiveness with excuses for new clothes that I used to have is no longer around. This was the only new piece I bought for the occasion, because I decided to stop getting caught up with reasons and excuses. I saw this dress on massive sale at the Oasis website, and purchased it. Upon confirming my tickets home, I decided this would be for the New Year. My mother fell in love with the dress, so I left it back in Singapore for her :)

It was an itsy-bitsy teeny weeny yellow-polkadot bikini. Gosh, I can still remember myself dancing around as I blasted the tape on the cassette recorder and sang that song (a little of a tongue-twister that liner is, isn't it!) as a wee toddler, and then my brother doing that six years later with the same tape. These yellow-and-white polka dotted shoes always make me think of that song and those memories. . . and of course I love the silver heels :)

I realise that in Singapore do I hardly ever use lip colour. It's only upon being in winter climes and looking at pallid complexion do I do that. And possibly how I started really falling in love with red lipstick and discovering my Showgirl side ;)

These photographs were taken in my back garden-- do I miss that jungle so much! Over the months as I dig out old shots of Singapore will you probably see loads of it too. .

Oasis dress; Pleaser shoes; YSL clutch; Diva leopard cuff; Diva ring; m)phosis belt.

________________________

Whilst I was in Singapore, my mother informed me that two pieces had been rendered unwearable. Which is really saddening. I was telling her my fantasies of wearing a particular top with a certain skirt, and she was laughing at me for having my wardrobe planned out in my mind already, but that's how you don't overpack! Here's some memories of They Who Have Since Died. . . as well as some snippets of Singapore across the past few years. Looking at these also make me realise how much my style has changed. . .

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

how to make everyone drool over your winter coat

 original images via here and here

I used to fantasise about winter coats all the time. The Best Friend and I would nip into Zara, try on all sorts of coats and drool. Whilst knowing that my limit would be buying sharp workwear when I was a student, or fuzzy cardigans in tropical Singapore, it would be massively insane for me to splurge on trench coats. Not even for vacations. Perhaps just a simple coat or a puffer jacket. Then in the dizzying chain of events between March and October 2009 where I received my acceptance letter and subsequently prepared to ship myself off, I assembled a 'starter kit' of trench coats. That collection, of course, expanded in the first two months when I landed in the UK. One year later, I think I am slightly wiser about Dressing Up The Winter Coat-- THE piece de resistance of your outfit. Because sometimes, you never remove it, nobody really gets to see what's beneath. So, puff up your shiny plume, dress yourself up and amp out the outer beauty ;) 

original images via here, here and here

Not all coats fit properly. Sometimes we find such irresistibly-beautiful ones in thrift stores or via other miscellaneous sources online but they might be that tad too big. Here's the belt to the rescue-- for a nipped waist, and a more flattering fit. Besides, not all of us look good in straight-cut clothes so the belt feels like sweet salvation. The best belts for coats, to me, are chain belts. They hook on and off easily, rather than having to deal with buckles. For a starter kit, a gold one and a silver one would suffice to match colour palettes and jewelry. And, the best thing about these belts is that they can be found easily in vintage or charity stores.

foxtrot in my blooming rose garden

The cousin I grew up with is getting married this weekend and I will not be back home for it. It is rather surreal on both counts. As a child I loved making cards. Growing up, I sketched alot, wanting to become a fashion designer even though I have no sense of 3D perspective whatsoever. But the practical realities of instrumentally rational Singapore bit into me, and I never went that route. I befriended a classmate in junior college who took the same bus as I did-- she used to do fashion as an art elective and we exchanged notes with each other's old sketches, and I remember her encouraging me to follow my dream. She was uber-hardworking but really fun, and we would walk instead of run during physical education lessons-- a girl after my own heart-, before she took off to America to study two months later.  I then made friends with a designer, who inspired me to start sketching properly-- i.e. buy a hugeassed sketchbook, and create large drawings with all sorts of colours, textures and materials. He made me a birthday card. It'd been ages since anyone made me a proper card! Feeling a frisson of excitement, I began illustrating and making cards since then, for certain people in my life. And then this weekend, I was wondering just what to do for MQ, besides the present that is being shipped over as I blog. I wanted something heartfelt for her, and for a wedding card, I had to do something big. Something fully-coloured. Can I do it, I asked myself, as I took up a pen and started to sketch, sitting on my bed at 1am on Saturday night. 

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.

to all the shoes i've loved before

Julio Iglesias crooned, "To all the girls I've loved before" in his sensual Latino way. My multi-love, wandering nature has been better reserved for shoes, where love is multiplied rather than divided. If like me, you've been gladly afflicted with the devilishly pleasurable trinity of love/lust/like with shoes for years, I'm inviting you to take a look at your archives of photographs and track your shoe evolution across the months, years, or even decades! I love 'longitudinal studies' like these, spanning across the years. .and hey, if you have a whole archive for photographs of shoes, this is the best time to showcase them proudly. You need no excuse to do that!

Some questions that are burning within me
1. How has your shoe taste changed over the years (heel height, type, brand, price range).
2. Are you ever torn between 'ostentatious decadent shoes' and 'more practical, everyday-looking shoes?'
3. Shoes or new apparel or ___? What wins out. Do spill!
4. Funniest shoe story?
5. How do you store your shoes?
6. Do you start dressing based on a pair of shoes? If so, how often do you find yourself doing that.
7. Who are the Shoe Influences in your life?

Do reply, whether as comments, or in your own blog posts. Vary these if you've answered similar questions (as have I in my post here) and tell it in your OWN narrative. Drop me a note, let me know, and link back. . and I will link you too! And here goes seven years of shoes. . .

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. 

remembering undergraduate life & a tribute to the amazing ones

I'd initially wanted to do a post on the weekend (or the 492042914 posts that I have yet to catch up with) but Lulu reminded me it was Teacher's Day as she left a few messages on the walls of our Sociology professors and tutors. I remember it being a little odd as we gave some of them Teacher's Day presents during our last year of undergraduate life since they were technically 'professors' rather than 'teachers' but it was a great opportunity to express gratitude all the same. Three of them, in particular, stood out. I read Sociology as my second major and it would be a blatant understatement to say it changed my life. Lulu and I were both Psychology majors who deepened our friendship during Sociology lessons. As the number of Psych|Soci double majors dwindled whilst many dropped out to pursue only one, Lulu and I ended up taking more than the prerequisite number of credits and sitting in extra classes. It wasn't just because of Lulu that made this time stand out but because of three amazing people whom we christened as Sage, JLo and Mafia.