03 July 2009 @ 11:43 am


          It sometimes puzzles me to be asked if I enjoy my work — work, I think, is a term to suggest little pleasure may be derived from the task at hand. No, God forbid, I do not enjoy my work; I suppose I could exult in the diligence and the drive to improve that working demands from me, but I do not enjoy my work. What I do enjoy is the work environment, the unpretentious friendliness of the people, the glorious scenery. Between breaks in working, my eyes will sought the soothing presence of the Merlion fountain in the distance, or a colleague will say something funny that will send the whole room laughing — and this, my friend, is what makes me enjoy going to work, which is not quite the same as enjoying my work.



          With such a laid back atmosphere as this it is easy to feel satisfied, and I daresay I am almost content with such an existence; I question myself, how lucky does one often get in finding employment in a firm with such agreeable colleagues, such a wonderful environment? But I have dreams, and although of late ambition has been idling in one corner, and my flesh weak from the poison of procrastination and cowardice, I only know too well that this is not how I will like to pass the rest of my life.
 
 
24 May 2009 @ 05:59 pm
147  
13 January 2009— Nearly half a year ago, I was on my first thrifting expedition around Singapore when I came upon this treasure of a dress, flatteringly cut and dainty in its pastel yellow and Basque waistline. A further peek at the label tag sealed my resolve of becoming the proud owner of such a dress — it was only $5, and that was $5 well spent.


scarf of map of New Zealand - Mum's, a present from an Aunt
yellow shift with a Basque waistline - thrifted from Praisehaven Family Store
tan messenger bag last carried here - Italy
brown bow hairclip last worn here - gift from Fourth Aunt
portrait of a girl ring last worn here - Ocean Launa
ivory jazz shoes last worn here - South Korea via EarlGreyParty



In spite of all my eagerness to wear my latest acquisition out, I was nevertheless at some pains to procure the right shoes to match it. The hemline of the dress was exceedingly high, and only showed full well the stockiness of my legs. Moreover I couldn't, at the same time, bind my poor feet in skyscraper heels; to behave like an invalid in school was simply out of the question, especially when there was a great deal of walking to be done. At length, however, I settled on the following: in choosing my footwear I went for sensibly flat jazz shoes instead of heels, because I wanted to tamper the scanty effect of so short a dress with a little more decency and respectability. Accordingly I have set out to add more classy elements like a scarf around my neck and with my choice of shoes, introduced a sporty air to my manner of dress — today my mini shift takes on an interpretation of chic tennis wear.



The scarf, perhaps, may not be a faithful portrayal of a tennis player after all — despite this, I wasn't sorry to have thought of including it; without the scarf, the outfit would have looked very bare. This piece you see ineptly tied around my neck is a souvenir from the lovely country of New Zealand. For yes, it will seem ironic but though I profess to love scarves so much, I always have problems trying to knot them up satisfactorily..



My choice of ring, like my scarf, was a piece of article that gave some variation of pattern and colour to my pretty but very plain dress. It wasn't quite a safe choice however, as later in the day I accidentally cut myself with the sharp spikes on the filigree setting, a fairly nasty wound that smarted and involuntarily brought tears to my eyes.



Gracing my feet, as I've said before, were my ivory jazz shoes, which had miraculously expanded one size after some wears; they no longer hurt me as much as they did before. (To give you a little background of these shoes, here's a brief account of their history: I had very unfortunately and foolishly bought them one size smaller than the size of my feet. The ill-conceived purchase was owing to my ignorance of korean shoe sizing. I had not known that korean sizes ran small.)



As fate will have it, Edmund arrived at school that day wearing his white and yellow T-shirt (the design consists of a banana peeling open to reveal batteries). We (or I, rather) were delighted at our unexpected colour coordination, which coincidence so gladly gave. A closeup of his shirt may be found here.



clockwise from left to right: 1. I am a creature of habit, apparently. If one could observe me by the bags I carry day to day, one would very likely see that I tend to stick to one bag, once I have started my week with it. Just yesterday (see previous post), I was carrying the same tan messenger bag. Today it is my handy companion for my day at school again. 2. Closeup of my scarf in its entirety. Maps make good prints for scarves, don't they? I will love to have one with grid squares and contours all mapped out; it will be fairly interesting. In fact, why shouldn't the Singapore Tourism Board print selected pages of street directories (say, the Chinatown and City Hall haunts, which are popular amongst tourists) onto scarves? By this I mean classic detailed maps with streets, grid squares and contours. Now the map isn't just a piece of paper the tourist would put to use only for a mere few days — it's a souvenir he will wear over and over again.. long after leaving Singapore :) 3. & 4. My $5 find at the Praisehaven Family thrift store, a yellow mini shift dress with an amazing fit and cut, tagged Celia Loe. Here are clearer views on the seams and the lovely Basque waistline.
 
 
04 May 2009 @ 10:56 pm
12 January 2009— British India, that quiet, rustic loft I have come to associate with a certain busy corner at Ngee Ann City, has long impressed on me its distinct flavour of style, so uniquely British and Indian, and its incredulous price range, so exorbitantly high and out of reach.



As a university undergrad, it would be a miracle to say the least if I could afford threads from British India. One notes that at the same time however, the nature of today's highly mass produced market is such that similar pieces may often be gotten for much less. Here I have recreated the British India look with factory overruns and rejects of the Far East Plaza variety from Hong Kong's Cheung Sha Wan Road, all this without burning a hole in my pocket.



The peasant tunic, with a mandarin style collar and embroidery trimmings, had the topmost button almost falling off, as well as pleats at the chest panel that were matched very ill indeed. At a capital price of HK$20 (S$4 thereabouts), I wasn't going to complain however, and since the tunic was just a casual piece of cheap clothing, the ill-matching did not bother me half as much as it would for an office blouse. The button could always be mended, so long as I was lucky enough not to lose it on my journey home.



The beige pants with kangaroo pouch pockets is one that I have worn before (see here), with a blouse tucked in and the sash tied at the waist. The trousers, originally long and wide-legged, was a factory overrun I had bought for HK$35 (approximately S$7). My mother and I later altered the pants together to mid-calf, Ali Baba style. For this outfit I have tucked the sash into the pants, as I felt it would ruin the overall cohesiveness of the look otherwise.



Accessories accounted for the most expensive items in my recreation of British India, with footwear topping the bill at S$123. These golden faux reptile skin t-bar sandals (last worn here) are from River Island. They can channel Roman Greek, bohemian gypsy, or exotic India.





The tan messenger bag, last carried here, is my mother's, hailing from Italy many years ago at a roadside stall outside a museum. She cannot recall the price, but shares that it wasn't cheap. The bag has the old vintage "weathered" look, which I really like on my handbags. On my head is a grecian wooden leaf hairband, which cost a fairly reasonable sum of S$7 at a sale at Diva. Cutouts on hairbands are one of my favourite things, and the cutouts on these have fashioned a romantic garland of leaves, fairy-tale Narnian like and very beautiful indeed.



Friends know well that I have a decided penchant for rings. When it comes to picking a ring to go with this British India inspired ensemble though, I usually opt for none, believing that bare fingers complement the overall look much better. If I do wear a ring out however, I would slip on Jeanine Gabrielle's A Lion's Tale ring (left — last worn here), which cost me a goodly sum of S$18, for a Chinoisere-oriental-meets-Indian take, or Kiel Mead's Forget Me Knot ring (right), a birthday present from my dearest which cost US$54 (approximately S$85), for a much subtler, simpler touch.



clockwise from left to right: 1. Closeup of the embroidery on the shirt, and the mismatch of pleats at the chest panel — probably the reason why the blouse was thrown out as a factory reject. 2. Sandals from River Island, which I dearly love. 3. & 4. Wooden leaf hairband from Diva, which was love at first sight for a girl who hardly makes purchases at this jewelry chain.
 
 
01 May 2009 @ 10:37 pm
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In this day and age, one cannot escape the advance of modernity.
 
 
30 April 2009 @ 11:47 pm




Birthday, 28.04.09