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

do you hear the people sing

D and I found this pair of Wartime Secretary Pants during the Zara sale and I had to try it on because it was so cheap. It fit like a glove so I bought it, but unfortunately they ran of sizes for the matching jacket. We then discussed a French Resistance look-- I think he gets the kicks out of all the different looks that I like playing around with. And I remembered I have a green beret, bought years ago from ASOS, that I knew I would wear someday, and lo and behold, it's gone one full circle and has been used in the UK itself.

My mother's gorgeous red pussybow top was kidnapped by me. . and I've worn it quite a few times over here. It's so soft and silky, and it fits very well-- I love its classic look. Of course you'll need more red here, so on goes Chanel Passion slicked on the lips, and the red Dolce & Gabanna pumps which I wear everywhere. Other items are: vintage gold earrings (Mom's); Diva ring; long black satin gloves; green Miu Miu bag; green ASOS wool beret.

 

 

And somehow everytime I think of Revolution or Resistance, I think of El Che and his fighting spirit (I named my cat after him, unfortunately he turned out to be a bit Sissy-ish, so I now call him Ernesto Che not-Guevara) and how sexy he looked smoking his pipe. Someone used to laugh at me for 'liking dead men' but I think he was just jealous. Lol. I think of The Boxer Rebellion. I also think of May 1968 even though I was only born in '86. And then I also have the song Do You Hear The People Sing from Les Miserables blasting in my head, getting all roused up. That's one of my favourite songs, I think I once shocked my mom one night when she came downstairs to see me all engrossed in that song which I play on some nights. If you have seen how Alex DeLarge looks all musically-intoxicated everytime he listens to Ludwig van in A Clockwork Orange, that's the effect Do You Hear has on me. One day I really must go watch Les Miserables, having read Hugo's amazing piece many times over, crippled my fingers practicing the pieces on my piano when I was much younger, God I love the story and music.

Have a fabulous weekend! x

morphing chameleon

I think I experienced some metamorphosis of sorts at the end of 2002. Since then I have always been told that my face is always changing, which I never realised until I started taking photographs with a vengeance. D says he gets confused sometimes, "It's like you come out of somewhere and you become another person altogether", swearing that even my mouth changes when I so much as remove my glasses." Sometimes he makes it sound like I have an assortment of facial parts that I can remove and wear at will like false eyelashes. It is quite hilarious, and he'll label each look "Girlfriend 75", "Girlfriend 483", etcetera. I actually enjoy this constant change in the face, and play it up with makeup. Here's eight faces in the last three weeks. .

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The Assassin, of which the word's etymology is derived from "Hashashin", a Nizari branch active in Iran from the 8th to 14th centuries. I've met at least ten people who've told me unanimously I look  like an assassin, especially when I'm in my Spygirl getup of tight black jeans and long black top, complete with boots with shiny buckles. Someday if I ever write a novel inspired by my days as a private investigator, that will be the cover look. Even D's friend thinks I look like a ninja assassin. There are two assassin looks though, even if both have a general uniform of black-- one has hair bunned into a high ballerina knot, an evil stare and nude lips. In that look, I remember how when I used to tutor or handle animal adoptions, suddenly my student/client would burst out, "Miss do you know who is Tomb Raider? I think you look like Tomb Raider". This one requires bold red lips, hair let down, fake bangs, and loads of mascara.

Photo taken on a Saturday night during an Italian dinner following which two mad drunk women were making a ruckus and were hauled out. Drama for that night.

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What I do best-- The Cheeky Face. Probably how I look like on most days-- hair messily knotted up, lips au naturel, and a light wash of eye shadow. Complete with The Most Vocal Cat In The World who loves to scream in photographs. God I miss her!

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Tuesday's face. I woke up looking a bit Oriental, which doesn't always happen. Since I was 17, I realise a rather annoying pick-up line is, "Are you mixed. No you can't be Chinese". Some even fought with me insisting that I'm not, which gets me really upset because I know what I am, thank you very much. Then from University onwards, I got accosted by "Hello, are you foreigner" and had to insist that I am born and bred in Singapore-- as though I would lie about that! It got so bad that I started biting back, "have you ever seen a foreigner in your life?", I can't help having a Question Mark Ethnic Face. My father has really tiny eyes with a single eyelid (and no eyelashes, as I like to tease him) and my mother has thick double eyelids. Somehow I came out with thin double eyelids and long lower eyelashes (that's from my maternal grandmother) but the biggest eyes in the family. In fact they even used to bulge a little probably due to early myopia my father would joke that if I kept progressing towards looking like a goldfish he'd put me in a tank, which scared the hell out of me. Lol. On some days my eyes look smaller than usual, so I play them down even more. All that's needed is pale eyeshadow, a thick line of liquid eyeliner with a Cleopatra flick, two coats of mascara, some blush, and nude lips. And maybe a pearl earring.

Looking a bit Oriental does scare me a little here at times. You walk down the streets and people go in some odd sing-song voice, "Heeeello, Orieeental", and then they think you can't speak English at all. Or worse would be people calling you "Suki", telling you "Mushi mushi" or "You're the first Japanese I've seen all day" which really makes my blood boil because no, I'm not Japanese. I even remembered arguing with some guy in Melbourne who insisted I am Japanese and kept asking me about cherry blossoms when I kept insisting I'm from Singapore and am ethnically Chinese. I speak three Chinese languages-- as though I wouldn't know what I am. Pffft. As you can probably guess, I have strange encounters with people, including having to insist on what my ethnicity is.

 

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Wednesday's face. Looking a bit more like my regular face again, i.e. the face I know and see most of the time. Although D would tell you there is no such thing, I insist there is. One slight wash of eyeshadow, and clear lipbalm, and I'm no longer the girl I was yesterday. With this face I get less people accosting me for reasons of playing Guess Your Ethnicity game. Really, sometimes I think people are too free. But I will shut up now. Not going to complain about people too much. 

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The deceptive faux sweet girl face a.k.a. butter wouldn't melt in your mouth. That name also made up by D, whenever I insist I look innocent. Taken in Singapore, based on this post. Makeup here requires loads of dark washes of eyeshadow blended meticulously together, some liquid eyeliner, three coats of mascara on the curled-to-death upper and lower lashes, NARS blush, and nude lipgloss. Sometimes I am amazed at how friendly I can look, because I like to insist there is not a single sweet bone in me.

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Bold lips from my Polesque Cabaret night. The general look here is red/maroon lips (or purple if I want to look like a Demonness or Vampiress), loads of dark washes of eyeshadow and boldy-lined eyes, and highlighter on my cheekbones. Generally involves feather eyelashes too. Also one of my favourite looks,  and a little like my Vintage Pin Up Girl look.

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This would be the Cyber Gamergirl look, where I feel like I've just emerged from a computer game. I love computer games, except that the moment I start playing I won't stop until I reach the highest levels or break my old records, which translates to a most almighty waste of time. The look here is nude matt lips, cheekbone highlighter, high hair and fake bangs. Eyes are done with loads of gold and Mermaid shades of teal, green, aqua, and sea foam, before lining them very boldly with a mixture of liquid and gel eyeliner. Accessorised here with the Upper Echelons necklace that I made

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Another nude matte lips look, with colourful eyes, involving shades of gold, green, blue and purple, many coats of mascara, and kohl eyeliner. Complete with blusher. Colourful eyes always make me feel like a peacock (although technically peahens are plain), and I love this t-shirt with a rather naughty-looking girl illustrated on it.

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 Hope you're having an awesome midweek so far, and thanks for all the sweet comments on the previous post! xxx

burlesque and cabaret by the brighton pier

 

I often like to muse aloud that I'm living in Kinky Brighton. Besides its reputation for being The Happiest Place In The UK, other things it's known for range from Gay Capital of The UK to Place Where Bosses Would Take Their Secretaries To For 'Meetings'; even the gorgeous Royal Pavilion was built by the Prince Regent for affairs with his mistress who was a married woman. Slightly risque dressing is therefore a-ok over here, much to my delight. In line with how much I love the Burlesque style and channel my inner Vintage Girl sometimes, whilst drooling like crazy at the sheer array of artsy vintage delights over here, tonight we went for Sirens, a burlesque-meets-poledancing cabaret show. And hence that cheeky opening shot ;)

Fans, feathers, poles, tulles, chocolates and ribbons and loads of happy people channeling their inner Showgirl/boy personality. . .

After it was all over we walked in the drizzle by the pier, and took some photographs, before watching the sea roar majestically. .  Boy was it windy, but the fine mists drizzling down coupled with the waves crashing in the foggy moonlight felt amazing. You have to love an excellent elemental experience.

 

I wanted to go for a more elegant and classy look rather than simply tiny dresses and short hemlines, so the black woolen skirt with the silk sash that I wear for formal presentations came out. Because we were doing Sirens for the night, I thought, why not inject a teeny little bit of naughtiness with a sheer top, whilst covering it a little with my blue-and-gold Oriental print collar, which matched a beautiful clutch that I bought during the recent sales. And you'll always need more lace to finish it off-- blue lace floral stockings and black fingerless lace gloves, whilst wearing rings that just get bigger and bigger. . .

 

Since I've yet to own maroon lipstick, I mixed purple lipstick with red, inspired by how my mother always mixes her colours and paints them on carefully with a lip brush. And the feather eyelashes with the long tips at the side came out again . . .

vintage sheer polka-dotted top; Gemma Eve collar; Accessorize lace stockings; Charles & Keith signature pumps; Sara Sturgeon skirt; Accessorize clutch; vintage pearl earrings; Diva rings; Tivoli honey faux-fur coat

  

 

Have a glorious weekend everyone! :)

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.

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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. . .

celebrating sapiosexuality with a hint of film noir

 

You have to love Sarah not only for her elegant sense of aesthetics but also for the education you get from her. I learnt what 'sapiosexuality' is-- getting turned on by intelligence-- and finally felt at home knowing what I am. So I decided that Valentine's Day will be the day of celebrating sapiosexuality because up until things started kicking off with D, I always thought it was gimmicky and a grrrrrreat day to profit by selling goodies. Then came the day when my mother called me up whilst I was busy processing animal adoptions, telling me some anonymous bouquet of flowers with a cryptic alliterated message had shown up, and I knew it was D, because he was the only one I gave my address to (besides forms and gurlfriends). And who else would send such embedded messages.  Funny how things can take a different twist when you finally meet Your Match, whether in terms of cheekiness, Talking The Hind Legs Off A Donkey, speed, greed and way more. Then by a bout of cognitive dissonance or Übermensch-ism*, I decided that I would celebrate it for our own special meaning**, an excuse to perhaps receive presents***, a reason to dress up, and of course, an occasion for f-o-o-d. Oh, the joys of utter gluttony! And also because I can't be an ingrate, right? This year, we were dead busy rushing deadlines but he mentioned dinner, albeit a late one because he had tai chi classes and I wasn't even sure if I could make it for dinner, sitting away at my Mac firing my fingers and neurons away. Eventually, I finished at 830pm (time of his class), managed to convince the restauranteur to keep the table for 1015pm, and had exactly forty-five minutes to take an attenuated version of a Holy Bath**** and dress up. . .

* Nietzsche's Overman who destroys socially-constructed, taken-for-granted meanings, splices them, lives them, thinks them through and with a great force of conviction, creates his own meanings. A bit like Max Weber's impassioned "Here I stand, I can do no more".

**kinda like how Christmas means family and warmth rather than blind festivities which obscure religious syncretism borrowing from Horus' birthday, for starters.

***because I still find it strange accepting presents

****what my friend Lulu christens my long baths as

 

One amazing thing about D is how he always indulges my requests for 'take photos of my shoes!' :) Even if I have gorgeous shoes (if I say so myself lol), it takes guts to be taking them in public. Either that or he's given up on me. .

I had set the camera mode wrongly ('night portrait' doesn't like me!) and so the photographs turned out strange. Nevertheless, playing with extreme contrast and making them black-and-white imparted some kind of Film Noir feel, which I love. . 

It is always with a mix of excitement, trepidation and flow as I happily kneel in front of my dresser mirror and rediscover what I have, dressing up spontaneously whilst wondering how the experiment will turn out. This time, I had brought my paper butterflies from Singapore, purchased from the Kids' Section, and decided to wear both in my hair. Bunned hair, simple mascara and red lips, rather than my flamboyant feather eyelashes because I wanted to go as P (if there is such a thing). I'm not sure if I've shown this stunning heavy wool vintage coat before, but it is a total beauty. Never in my wildest dreams would I think of full-length coats, imagining them to be frumpy (me eating my words again. Yum!) but this one flares out from a slight nip at the waist, dancing as I walk. Plus it keeps one most warm too. The classic cut and the fact that it fits like a glove makes me feel so lucky to own it. I'd also refrained from wearing those printed tights (from the same range as my snakeskin one here) because I always assumed the pattern would be hidden. Imagine my surprise when I finally wore them with the red pumps I am only too addicted to-- partly because you can wear those pumps and walk for hours in them despite the 5-inch heel. I'm also learning how much I love long-strapped handbags-- the sort that my mother always uses, that I used to think was a little old-fashioned as 'my time' was one where straps became short and bags were to be tucked under your armptis. In this overall look, I feel a little like Dita von Teese sashaying down the streets. Such are my delusions of grandeur ;)

 

 Us both looking slightly menacing in all-black. .

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And now, the part I know you all love ;) FOOD! I am such a Singaporean at heart, always talking about food. We greet each other with, "Have you eaten?" instead of "how are you". (Unless you are anorexic/dieting/missing out on life's pleasures). . .

Going through my wardrobe, I decided on this red halter-neck dress with happy flower prints. I know, I know, it's a little crazy to wear a halter-dress in the middle of winter, what more in chilly Brighton, but all's warm with the coat. I also wore a snake cuff (seen better here), one of my two 'snakes'. Snakes are such elegant creatures (I love them!) and represent wisdom and protection (e.g. in Greek mythology or Buddhist scripture), or even temptation (in the Abrahamic faiths) which gives another layer of charm and mystique to their invertebral elegance as they slither and hiss. Otherwise, consider me some kind of taxidermist with a twist, adorning myself with animal-inspired pieces. .

Mango dress; vintage wool coat; vintage snake cuff; Accessorize butterfly clips; vintage Elle tattooed stockings; Dolce & Gabanna pumps; Chanel handbag; Diva ring

We dined at Sahara, a North African/Moroccan/Arabic restaurant, with very reasonable prices. These were spicy potatoes and vine leaves starters. D was teasing me "I love to eat vegetables" when I asked him why he didn't order a meat starter, as usual in response to his horror that I don't buy vegetables. I told my mother (who eats veg with the fervour of a rabbit) that D strategises 'cooking vegetables in ways to make you eat them' and she sounded very happy. And he sounded even happier to know that she was happy about it.

Mains for myself was an awesome spiced rice with herby lamb and him, a mixed kebab. "Why didn't you order the mixed kebab?"/"I knew you would order it". And cardamon tea is so amazing, I had to risk being thought of as madder than I already am mixing cardamon tea with shiraz.

No matter how full you might be, there is always the Dessert Compartment. That is one lesson D has learned (or is still learning). I had a moist apple and cinnamon cake and he, the most amazing banoffee pie I've ever tasted, made with quality toffee and short, tropical bananas (i.e. my favourite type of bananas). Whilst we spent dinner laughing, camwhoring, and launching into all sorts of strange debates, it's amazing how time flies by when you're having a good time. I ordered another round of banoffee pie, and the head waiter thought I was joking at first. And then, by the time I ordered the fourth round, he was absolutely stunned but indulged us with a super-large portion. . . We walked home in the cold and stumbled into the door looking like two pregnant people with big bellies, which haven't subsided even though it's Friday morning at present.

 

 

Right now The Lair is undergoing some transformation of sorts-- not because I'm too free to keep redoing it. . but expect more photographs and the story soon! It's starting to look like some Grotto of an eccentric designer (which is what D is) cum Lair cum Opium Den and I just hope we've time this weekend to work on opening up all the boxes and putting things together. As well as put up loads of amazing artwork. And then for me to put together the photos from Singapore, and all the other older photos. Sometimes I wish I could blog via telepathy! Have a glorious weekend xxx