The Sweetest Escape

You know you've been in and around fashion for too long when...

2008-03-19T21:44:00.002+08:00

...It's perfectly normal for a pair of shoes to cost $800
It's decent for a dress to cost $800
It's cheap when a bag costs $800

P.s. This is for Grace, cos you asked so nicely. lol.

No more bags for you!

2008-01-16T21:49:00.000+08:00

Here is my newest addition to my collection, the Balenciaga city bag in bubble gum pink.

I like how the sweet pink contrasts with the tough and somewhat punky design of the bag.
I like the fact that this bag weighs close to nothing, especially in comparison to my Stam bag, which while unequivocally gorgeous, happens to weigh quite a bit, even when it is empty.
I like how I probably will not be able to carry this bag around by the time I'm thirty because it will make me appear like an unfortunate mutton trying to dress as a lamb, hence making each time I carry this bag all the more precious.

P.S. All that fabric in the background are actually my dresses. This pink bag is certainly more versatile than one would initially imagine it to be, isn't it?

P.P.S. For some reason, Blogger is not posing high-res images on the blog. To get a much better quality photo (I promise), click on the picture to enlarge it. You can even see the distressed texture of the bag.

Conquering Constantinople I

2008-01-14T21:38:00.000+08:00

Instead of a usual lengthy post written in prose and covering every single aspect of Istanbul, I thought it would be speedier and simpler for me to write a series of posts organized loosely by category.

I shall start off with a favorite topic of mine - food

- Turkish street food is pretty awesome. There's nothing quite like a plate of freshly grilled doner (sliced) kebab served over a bed of pilaf rice to get the tastebuds watering. Especially in the middle of winter.

- Quick vocabulary lesson:
Kebab = grilled meat
Doner = sliced
Shish = skewered

And now you're ready to order street food like a local.

- Traditional deserts like baklava and Turkish delight are ridiculously sweet. I'd recommend a strong cup of Turkish tea to go with desert.

- Liquor is taxable in Turkey, so refrain from ordering imported liquor as much as possible. Instead, try the local beer or wine.

- McDonald's does not serve breakfast in Turkey. Burger King is not even open in time for breakfast.

- My comfort food in Turkey was tellingly enough, pasta. No craving for Chinese noodles or hamburgers. All I wanted was pasta.

- Eat at a fish restaurant. The fish is freshly caught from the Black Sea and the Bosphorus. Pictured on the bottom left is grilled turbot.

- For modern cuisine with a Turkish twist, try Mikla, whose chef is a rising Turkish superstar. Best overheard conversation came at the entrance to the restaurant, located at the top of the Marmara Pera Hotel.
Maitre'd to couple with baby in buggy: Babies are not allowed to dine at the restaurant.
Male half of couple: Can we have a drink at the bar then?
Maitre'd: Yes, but without the baby.
Couple (retreating to the lift and pressing the elevator button): Oh.

- In general, be prepared to have food that is extremely well seasoned with all sorts of different spices. You really shouldn't expect less from a city that bridges Asia and Europe.

First post of the year

2008-01-09T14:27:00.000+08:00

A (rather belated) Happy New Year.

It has been a pretty good start to 2008.
I welcomed 2008 on the rooftop of my hotel in Istanbul, teeth chattering with cold as fireworks went off all over the city.
I bought myself two gorgeous pairs of shoes a couple days later, all better to walk over people standing in my way with.
And best of all, I finally passed my practical driving exam. No more taking ridiculously expensive driving lessons or rushing to the school for lessons.

It's gonna be a great year, and I wish the same to one and all.

P.s. Vacation pictures will follow, hopefully soon.

OMG!

2007-12-07T01:49:00.000+08:00

Just when I've decided I will die happy (figure of speech, people) the day I get my hands on a classic Chanel 2.55 bag, the label has to one up the stakes.
Look at this.
A 2.55 in crocodile skin! Leave it to the Bag Snobs to sniff this bag out.

Ah well, since I am on the topic of dreaming as I dutifully fill up my piggy bank with spare change* in the hopes that one day I will be able to sashay into a Chanel store and order my own 2.55, even if it may not necessarily be a croc-skinned one, here are the red shoes of my dreams.

Marc by Marc Jacobs (as always), $485

Perfectly retro and, I think, so me.

* I felt the need to clarify that I do not actually own a piggy bank where I painstakingly channel every spare penny into. I simply have a mental bag fund where all the money I do NOT spend on other random stuff is placed. Consider it, uh, my idea of saving.

Things that make me go

2007-11-28T02:35:00.000+08:00

:-)

Project Runway. H&M. friendly salespeople. Barneys Coop. plain cheese pizza from the pizzeria. red lipstick. Christmas carols. grey knee high socks. lattes and cappucinos. House season 4. Muji's city in a bag. Heidi Klum. sleeping in. Rai Rai Ken. The Killers. Brendan Flowers too. bags, shoes and dresses. American apple pie and vanilla ice cream.

:-(

bad service. Club 21. green-colored food. bumpy, noisy rides in stuffy minibuses. working on weekends. working at night. working. Crocs, the footwear. taxis that do not stop. regressive conservatives. lousy sales. Tory Burch ballet flats.

:-&

boring stories in the papers. Google ads. Target international designers. the flu bug. opera. online shopping. those Little Miss whatever t-shirts.

This is the first in what may turn out to be a long long series of round robin posts. The original is here. Write down your own and link it back to this!

This too, shall pass

2007-11-27T14:52:00.000+08:00

So I've ranted and that is the end of the story, for now. I am not a person who likes to dwell on negative emotions for extended periods of time, even though I do fall into fits of melancholy and misery ever so often.
Moving on...

I decided to indulge in a little Black Friday shopping just for the fun of it. Not that there's Black Friday sales here, but it was the first day of Club 21's sales and so I had to go take a look. Let it be said that i deplore Club 21 because they seriously overprice everything they bring in. A pet peeve is the Marc by Marc Jacobs store, which is a total monstrosity compared to the ones on Bleecker St. Not only are clothes almost 50% more than the retail prices in New York, the store itself is like any other Club 21 store - snobbish and judgmental. But beggars cannot be choosers. Hence I hopped onto a bus to Orchard Road check out the sales.

After half a day of shopping, I did walk away with a decent amount of loot.

1. Diesel Liv jeans in dark indigo. The only two types of jeans I wear these days are the Livs and H&M's Sqin, both of which are straight leg, skinny jeans. This will be my third pair of Livs after the previous two in black and a black/grey wash. It is a little boring to wear the same cut all the time, but these do fit so amazingly well (I actually look like I have an ass!) and are so comfortable I can't keep them off me.
2. Diesel dress. Ok, I'm having trouble describing this one because it looks so much nicer when worn than when I talk about it.
3. CK Calvin Klein draped navy jersey dress. This was a tough choice because I was deciding between the dress and a pair of red wedges from Marc. Obviously this won out eventually. Plus, I am almost certain the price of the wedges will be further reduced. Shopper's intuition, I say. For now, I am just obsessed with the idea of wearing the dress with a beautiful jeweled cuff bracelet but first, I'd have to purchase said bracelet. (And I really shouldn't be doing any more shopping because I am saving up for my new year's trip before I really have to eat kebabs for the entire vacation)

I know I ought to post photographs but I'm too lazy. When I do wear them, I'll post the photos.

In other news, it has been thunderstorming over the last couple days. It won't exactly be a white Christmas, but this cool weather has definitely put me in the mood for some holiday cheer. I think it is time to bust out my Xmas mix and start humming along to it for the rest of the month!

Streams of thought

2007-11-26T02:47:00.000+08:00

It was such a trivial incident, really. In fact, I should be used to it by now, because it happens so often. And yet, for some reason, when I came home at 230am and saw my white tank top hanging on a pole to dry, slowly stretching itself to unwearableness, instead of where I had left it lying flat on the chair, something snapped.
And in my anger, relentless waves of thoughts swept through me, never ceasing in their intensity and clarity.
And I was angry at having to live in a tiny four room HDB flat with three other people; where I would have to watch all my actions for fear of offending someone or crossing uncrossed lines. No more flitting through the apartment fresh from a shower in nothing more than a towel. No more performing all the varied household chores in my own time. Instead, everything has to be done based on someone elses schedule. No more leaving my room in my organized mess lest it offends someone elses eyes. The horror!
And I became angry, once again, at the thought of being in this country.
And I suddenly realized why I was so surprised when what seemed to be the entire country kicked up that huge fuss about the ministers getting hefty pay rises. Why, can't anybody see that money is the only way this country is able to get smart, talented men and women to stay here? For once, the old man got it right.
And I felt an intense anger towards the people who have told me, "You knew it you had to return the moment you signed your name on that contract".
To all these people, here is my response to you, "I knew it was coming, but you were not there with me four years ago when I signed my name on that contract. You do not know the circumstances that forced me to play my hand as such. Do not judge a situation you barely have any knowledge of."
And I felt a little sad that nobody ever asks me, "Why did you sign the contract?" because they presume there is only one answer - "My parents couldn't afford to send me abroad." Because, that, I believe, is hardly the answer. At 18, when faced with such stark choices, and without full knowledge of the consequences, what else could I do but put pen to paper?
And then I felt more than a little sad when I recalled what my father told me in those horrible days between my receiving the contract and my signing it. I had a week or so to get a couple of sureties/guarantors to cosign the contract to ensure I would not abscond after four years. My father was too old and I had to seek special permission so he could act as a guarantor. But after all that trouble, he told me, "Go see if you can find somebody else. What if your sister gets a scholarship in a couple years and I can't act as her guarantor because I've signed yours?"
And then, horrible me thought, "Just based on this statement, you have absolved me of all guilt should I actually disappear into the sunset before I have served out this bond."
And then I had a moment of self doubt, when I think I should not have gone abroad at all, because it is not possible to miss something I have not experienced.
But that thought goes away almost immediately because had I not done so, I would have become a narrow minded, insular, petty Singaporean with a deep rooted passion for hawker food and an unhealthy obsession with cellphones and property prices. Worse, I'd actually believe "Singapore is not that bad a place to live in, what."
Instead, I now see the huge divide between how the locals and the expats live. I see the countless old men and women sitting under the hot sun on Orchard Road peddling packets of tissue paper. I see what an artificial construct this country is because all its achievements - good education system, healthcare, strong economy - are products of a highly mechanized government. Tell me in what aspect have this country's people made good? Name me an actress, author, chef, dancer, sportsman, any individual actually, who has made it big, really big, in the international arena.
And suddenly, I am very tired. I will have to wake up some time in the morning, maybe the afternoon, and coax my unwilling self to my office for yet another day of mindless work. But I will still go through the motions because every day I bring myself to the office is another $230 less I have to pay the company should the need ever rise.
And I know, with all my heart and soul, the day this is over, in one way or another, will be the happiest day of my life.

Life in three-inch Miu Mius #2

2007-11-16T02:28:00.000+08:00

Last week, I attented a private party/opening ceremony of an exhibition/auction of a certain well-know pop artist's works.
Being the unrepentent shopaholic that I am, I had to enquire about the prices of some of the pieces that caught my eye. Turns out the average price of each print would be a neat six figure sum.
A few days later, I read in the papers that a similar print to one that was shown in the exhibition had just been auctioned off for millions of dollars.
Makes that 100 grand seem like such a bargain.

And also, expensive shoes and oodles of red lipstick have the ability to elevate a lazy white tank and black jeans to party-going status. Natch.

Walking down memory lane

2007-11-09T01:08:00.000+08:00

When I wake up tomorrow morning, the fashion world will be all atwitter over the launch of Roberto Cavalli's collection for H&M. I really wish I was there to partake in the usual mad rush on opening day. Not that I find his clothes particularly appealing in the way the last three designer's collections were, but because I simply enjoy the excitement and the pageantry of partaking in the frenzy.
At least, I can console myself with the knowledge that I was in the heart of the action last year, when Viktor and Rolf's collection was launched in New York. In fact, I even wrote an article about it for school. It was a blast being there talking to the shoppers in line and getting to walk into H&M before the shop opened so that I could photograph the shoppers running to the racks when the doors opened.
For old times' sake, I dug out the article I wrote for my basic reporting and writing class a year ago, and here it is:

November 10, 2006

From 10 to 10.20 am last Thursday, mayhem descended upon clothing store H&M at Herald Square. In what has become an annual affair, shoppers fought to get their hands on a newly released limited edition range of clothing. Some of these budget conscious fashionistas had been waiting in line outside this store since 7 am. Their aim: to get first pick of the clothes the moment the store opened.

At the stroke of ten, a security guard held open one of eight glass doors. Another security officer, Stuart Raffle, who was monitoring the line outside the store, told the crowd, "Two by two. Enter in twos." But his admonishments were largely in vain.

The shoppers were barely able to keep themselves from sprinting the ten feet distance to the clothes on display. Up for grabs were men’s and women’s clothing from an exclusive collaboration between H&M and Dutch duo, Viktor and Rolf. Retailing at the usual affordable H&M price range, the clothes cost a fraction compared to regular Viktor and Rolf pieces. For example, a Viktor and Rolf woman’s dress was selling for $99 at H&M. At online couture store, www.net-a-porter.com, a dress from the same label ranges from $735 to $1640.

Once in the store, shoppers both men and women alike began grabbing at clothes on the racks. Nobody stopped until their arms were laden with dresses, coats, jeans and anything else from the line they could lay their hands on. By twenty past ten, most of the clothing had been cleared off the racks, with the occasional hanger dangling on a bare rack. Some die-hards and those who had missed out on the initial rush hovered around the skeleton of a store display in the hopes of picking up cast-offs. Others made a beeline to the dressing rooms or to quieter corners of the store to sift through their spoils.

Overheard in separate but strikingly similar conversations throughout the store were people commenting on the chaos, "I've never seen anything quite like this," and "This is crazy." The very same people were also staggering under the loads of clothing they were hugging close to their chests.

According to store executives, a similar stampede swept through the other four selected H&M stores in Manhattan that had stocked the line. Globally, only 250 stores were chosen to carry the line. The same frenzy was reported at these stores on the launch date as well.

Viktor and Rolf are the third high end designers that the trendy Swedish chain store has collaborated with in as many years. In the fall of 2004, Karl Lagerfeld, chief executive of design at Chanel, kick started the craze at H&M for high fashion at low prices. Last year, Stella McCartney, designer for her own eponymous line and former designer for Chloe, also sold out her H&M collaboration. The appeal, according to fans, is the opportunity to purchase "discount designer" clothing.

"The clothes at H&M are really cheap," said Louisa Murray, 32, a freelance makeup artist. “And I think these ‘designer’ clothes are more well made and well designed than the usual basics I buy from here.”
Together with her friend Don Sumada, 39, a stylist, they were first in line at the H&M store on 34^th street and 7^th avenue, one avenue away from the one on Herald Square. Working as a team, Murray had gone to the store at 51^st street and 5^th avenue while Sumada made his way to this location at 8 am. On hearing that Sumada was first in line, Murray made her way over to join him.

But more than being affordably priced, it is the exclusivity of these designer collaborations that inspire people to spend hours waiting outside the store on the day of its release. According to the company’s media representative Stephen Lubomski, H&M does not plan to restock the Viktor and Rolf clothes once their current stock runs out. The same strategy was employed with the Lagerfeld and McCartney collections, which also sold out in record times.

Eve Caroline was third in line outside the Herald Square store, after arriving at 7.30 am. “I was late for the Stella (McCartney) collection and nearly couldn’t get what I wanted,” the 35-year-old yoga instructor said. “This time, I decided to come early so I can get the pieces I have my eye on.”

By 9 am, the line outside the Herald Square store stretched all the way across two adjacent shops. Passer-bys gaped at the long line of oh-so-fashionably dressed people standing outside the store. On display were all of this season’s key trends, from opaque leggings to layered outfits and slouchy boots. At 7^th avenue, a similarly long line of equally stylish people, armed with Starbucks cups and cellphones glued to their ears had also congregated.

Most had already done their research at H&M’s website and knew exactly what they wanted to get from the collection. “Definitely the trench coat,” said Murray. “If you talk to the others in line, almost everybody will tell you the same thing.” She said she was getting two – one for herself and one for a friend. Other popular items on the shoppers’ wishlists were the dresses and men’s sweaters.

No wonder then, that with such dedicated shoppers, the collection was sold out within two hours of its release. It took employees only twenty minutes to empty out the store’s backroom of Viktor and Rolf clothing. Those who still wanted the clothes could only hope for rejects from the dressing room or to barter with other shoppers.

When this reporter idly picked up a pair of pink tights embossed with tiny hearts, she was immediately approached by another woman, who said, “I’ll trade you this pair of shoes for the tights.” She got the tights and kept the pair of shoes.

Others were not as lucky and had to leave the store empty handed. But even though H&M will not be bringing in fresh stock, there is always online auction site, eBay.

Ginnidi Carlo, 27, a fashion buyer from Canada was standing in line that Thursday morning when he heard about McCartney and Lagerfeld clothes being sold on eBay in previous years. He said, half in jest, “My budget just went up from $1,000 to $2,000. Maybe after selling off the excess, I’ll even make a profit!”

On clothes

2007-11-07T02:29:00.000+08:00

Those who know me are probably aware that this (hopefully) temporary job posting is causing me to go through wild mood swings.
There is nothing, I repeat and emphasize, nothing, I can say I like about what I am doing right now. In fact, this will probably be the one time in my life that I dare declare I am being overpaid for what I am doing. That is saying a lot since I cannot even afford to move out of my parent's home.
The situation is so miserable that the highlight of my day is usually the hour I take to get dressed for work.
Alright, I guess it is not so much of wild mood swings I go through on a daily basis. Because that would imply that I alternate between having insanely positive and negative feelings through the course of a day. To be more precise, what usually happens is that for this one hour, I actually feel a semblance of normalcy in my life. And for the rest of my waking hours, I am bored, angry and sad or all of it at the same time. Little wonder then that most of my energies are directed towards pondering upon and deciding on my attire, makeup and accessories.
Then, this afternoon, as I was indulging in my usual routine of getting dressed for work, a horrible thought suddenly slipped into my mind.
This little voice started nagging: Why the heck do you bother with what you wear? Your office is located smack in the middle of the HDB heartland. The only people looking at you are the old uncles and aunties who probably think you're a little off your rocker. A significant number of your colleagues probably think the same thing. Or else the only reason why they think you should dress up is because you are going out after work.
For a moment there, I began wondering why indeed. I could most definitely turn up at the office in a T-shirt, jeans and flip flops and I would fit right in. Coming to this realization just saddened me greatly, sort of the same way a kid feels upon finding out the tooth fairy, santa claus and the easter bunny doesn't exist.
Then, an even cooler realization dawned upon me: I dress up for nobody but myself.
And I really do think that this is the bottom line, at least for me.
Vanity is definitely a huge motivating factor. But, I do believe that even more so than wanting to look nice, diverting my energies towards pulling together a coherent outfit is about expressing creativity. Just like how this blog is for me to write about what I want to write, without having to deal with nonsensical energy-sapping issues such as editors who try to turn my writing into run-of-the-mill, style-less crap and boring stories I do not wish to deal with.
Besides, giving in to the standard dress code of super casual attire seems to be a bit of a cop-out especially when I conform to mediocrity just because people stare and ask dumb questions about what I am wearing.
Cos, you know, nothing screams fuck you more than clothes that nobody else understands.

Windows are useful

2007-11-05T20:39:00.000+08:00

My bed is located right by a window. Usually, I find the placement of the bed somewhat annoying because the sun shines into my eyes in the morning, even with the curtains drawn closed. And no, I hardly get out of bed before noon, just because.
Anyway, I woke up on Saturday morning fully feeling the after effects of a night out and too much champagne. Even though I tried my darn best not to move, to not breathe even, so as to allow things to settle, my stomach wasn't obeying my orders.
So, I stuck my head out of said window, and pretty much got rid of all the nasty stuff that had been lurking in my alimentary system.
I guess the boyfriend was awoken by my retching because he kindly passed me kleenex when I croaked for it.
He mumbled something about feeling like shit too.
To return the favor, I very politely asked him, "Do you wanna come vomit out of the window too?"

Epilogue
He demurred, bless his heart.
In retrospect, it really does seem rather gross to throw up out of a window, now that I am no longer nursing one heck of a hangover.
However, it is definitely convenient to do so. Compare that to climbing out of bed, running across the room, opening the door, running into the bathroom and then doing the deed.
There was nobody under my window when I threw up. At least, I didn't hear anybody scream in disgust, so that is the only conclusion I can come to.

Beauty DIY

2007-10-29T01:56:00.000+08:00

The next time you are in need of a good exfoliation, but do not have a body scrub handy, try this:

1. Take a tablespoonful of sugar and place it somewhere within easy reach of your shower (But obviously away from the water or it will dissolve).
2. Pour some of your regular shower gel into your palm and mix the sugar in.
3. Scrub.

It's supremely easy and surprisingly effective.

Happy happy joy joy

2007-10-24T12:00:00.000+08:00

Nigella Feasts airs on Discovery Travel and Adventure at noon.
Do you know what this means?

Instead of watching Martha, who strikes me as a somewhat uptight housewife with her neat countertop and measuring cups, I get to work up an appetite as Nigella pours, splashes and chops away and, get this, eats the food she cooks.
Without a measuring cup in sight.

Somebody. Save. Me.

A new low

2007-10-23T17:39:00.000+08:00

Not only do I know that The Martha Stewart show airs on Ch 5 at noon daily, and Oprah is on Hallmark at 1pm, I actually watch both shows.
I have sunk to new depths.

Selected shots

2007-10-19T10:40:00.000+08:00

Iggy's
Regent Hotel

Wagyu carpaccio. Look at how beautifully marbled the beef is.

Charcoal noodles with scallop tartar and tomato jelly. No, the noodles do not taste like charcoal. They were, however, delightfully light and refreshing.

A very special dish created by chef Ignatius himself. On the bottom left is foie gras tempura over a slice of (extremely fresh) unagi. In the eggshell is an egg sauce with chopped peppers. Oh, and a baby spinach salad. I never knew spinach leaves looked like that.

To eat, simply pour the egg sauce over the tempura and unagi. Who ever said haute cuisine is complicated?

More noodles, this time pasta with mushrooms in yuzu sauce. It was my substitute from the vegetarian menu because I did not want to eat the shellfish dish on the regular menu.

Roasted lamb shoulder, all juicy and oozing just a little blood.

P.s. For those that are wondering, I suddenly recalled a nifty function available on my camera called "custom white balance". Hence, halfway through the meal, the photos became properly colored, instead of having that annoying yellowish tint.

Stella McCartney at Takashimaya

2007-10-15T19:01:00.000+08:00

Stella McCartney has opened it's first standalone boutique in Singapore today.

Of course, all her creations are crazily overpriced (a silk tunic dress costs $2400, after which I did not dare to peek at the price tags anymore), but they're beautiful to just gawk at. Take in her fall collection of coats, slouchy sweaters and girly separates in her signature muted palatte of greys and pinks. Also available are a small collection of bags and shoes, which I think are made of non-leather materials like vinyl, because McCartney is an environmentally conscious vegan. Go see for yourself at Takashimaya, second floor.

In other news, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that Isetan at Wisma Atria has an inhouse boutique for Theory, which specializes in elegant, well-designed clothes for work and play.

I especially love the fit of their pants - I bought two pairs at a sample sale in New York - which are long enough so I can wear heels with them. Do not expect the prices to be cheap, but Theory's classic clothes look as if they will last for at least 10 years, and stay in fashion till then. I did not have enough time to browse the clothes carefully, but I will definitely be making my way back soon.

For the foodies out there

2007-10-09T21:02:00.000+08:00

Here is a new blog about the quest for great haute cuisine.
You would think that by virtue of the name of this category of food, which means high cuisine, or fine dining, it would be easy enough to find a good meal. But fine dining is about more than just the intricately prepared food, it is about the whole experience from the setting, that is, the restaurant, to the service. Yet, when it all boils down, everything else has to act as a complement to the food.
The Gourmet Hound serves up the latest dish on what's being dished out at these restaurants (see all the puns!)
Be rest assured that none of the meals being reviewed are paid for, or sponsored by restaurant management. So you can sleep safe in the knowledge that all compliments you read in the reviews are honest and heartfelt. That said, you will most certainly be able to find all those I-can't-believe-I'm-paying-an-arm-and-a- leg-for-this-nonsense comments basking in their full glory.
Here is my favourite line from Gourmet Hound's first review of Saint Julien, which claims to be one of the best French restaurants in Singapore:
"The Summer oysters from Marennes, France was less than sparkling fresh. If you believe that oysters have little souls and dream briny dreams, half a dozen half shelled oysters drowned on me. If their souls hadn’t been collected, they were half the distance there."

Click here for more from the Gourmet Hound.

ALERT! Kate Moss for Topshop is (finally) in town!

2007-10-05T02:07:00.001+08:00

The Fall/Winter collection of Kate Moss for Topshop has finally arrived in Singapore. I saw a decent array of Kate Moss clothing at the Topshop at Wisma Atria this afternoon.
Items of note include the green one shoulder chiffon dress ($300-ish), pink vest, a couple shirts and a few dresses ($100-$200) cut in a similar way to Kate's pansy dress that made waves earlier this summer, but in different fabrics and prints.
I am not sure when exactly the collection landed since the staff would not divulge the exact launch date when I asked. However, it should be no more than a week since I check on Topshop practically every day, as long as I pass Wisma Atria on my way to work.
The clothes will probably not be flying off the shelves this time, but for those interested, there is not much point in holding out for a sale either - local distributors did not put the clothes from Kate's previous season on sale so I do not see why they would break from convention for the new season.

P.S. I think I am going to abstain from purchasing anything from this collection because nothing screamed out to me, lovely as most of them were.

Paradise

2007-10-01T21:50:00.000+08:00

A long weekend on an island 45 minutes by boat from Phuket was exactly what I needed. All that was there was the resort. Just my kind of isolation.

I took it all in - plenty of sleep, decadant spa visits, delicious Thai food, refreshing coconut drinks, plenty of lounging by the pool, sun tanning, chick lit and luxurious hot baths in a giant tub.

There was plenty of adventure to go around too.

The boat ride to the island, I should say speedboat ride, was a considerable challenge for me, even with the aid of motion sickness pills. Then, upon disembarking, we had to walk on a floating pier to get to the shore. Incidentally, those pills caused me to become so drowsy that I could barely keep my balance on the pier. Still I made it to dry land without falling into the water.

Just because I am not an outdoor person, I think the powers that be contrive to make all my outdoorsy endeavors as eventful as possible. Which is exactly what happened during our snorkeling expedition.

First, we had to bike to the bay. I had no idea how to operate my mountain bike and could barely cycle out of the resort. I don't think I even need to talk about how I navigated slopes. On a narrow dirt path halfway through our journey, we had to ride by a water buffalo lying just next to the path. It took me one short glance at the creature's horns to inspire me to send a passionate prayer to the heavens.

By the time we reached the bay, my nerves were wrecked. But I still decided to go into the water. Let it be said that I am no scaredy cat, even if I am not quite a tough cookie.

All my snorkeling experiences up till then have been relatively enjoyable and danger free in spite of my neuroses. (I am always afraid that stingrays will wander into the area I'm in and ahem stab me with their tails.) This swim started normally too, with me enjoying the sight of all the various species of fish, some of which I am fairly certain I've eaten before. We passed by a school of sleeping fish, no their eyes were not closed but they were floating motionless in the water, an extremely adorable sight. And to the smartmouths, no the fish were not dead because they were not floating belly up.

Soon, we swam over some dead corals, past a few trigger fish. Now, trigger fish are apparently aggressive little fish that will bite when they're threatened. But still, I've always liked looking at them because they have lovely electric blue and yellow patches on their body. I drifted merrily along until I noticed the boyfriend looking back and kicking at the water with his fins. Naturally I had to turn back too. It was then that I saw about five trigger fish swimming in formation behind us. Deciding that I had seen enough, I whipped my head back front only to notice from the corner of my eyes other trigger fish circling around towards us.

Great. A swarm of trigger fish was getting ready to attack us. Talk about mob mentality.

A full blown panic attack was hitting me. I motioned frantically to the boyfriend to head back to shore.

While swimming back, he would look back every now and then, probably to see if the fish were still chasing us. Each time he did that, I would kick my legs even harder. I do not think I have kicked my fins that furiously before.

By the time we reached the shore and were standing on solid rocks, I was very close to crying. Perhaps I was, but I can't tell since my face was wet. It took me a few moments to compose myself, and I think I only did so after hearing a very sharp "relax" come from the boyfriend which made me realize I was getting hysterical. However I think by then both of us were in agreement that we had enough adventure for the day.

We rode back to the resort. Luckily, the ride back was completely uneventful. We then spent the rest of the day drinking fresh cold coconut juice from baby coconuts, lounged by the pool and went for a wonderful aromatherapy massage.

By the end of the day, the memory of the morning's fish attack was but a mere memory, something to be written about and to be told as an amusing dinner party story.

Gorgeous shades of pink

2007-09-25T01:10:00.000+08:00

Sometimes, all that is needed to keep a difficult day at bay are some beautiful flowers.

I received these pink tulips last Friday when I was feeling somewhat down about certain things in life. Needless to say, everything seemed so much brighter and my dilemmas less insurmountable.

If it were up to me, all the problems in the world would be solved by a bouquet of lovely flowers. I'd give all the flowers in this world, and the next too, if one niggling issue would make itself disappear. But I think that may require somewhat more maneuvering than pretty flowers.
In the meantime, it is all that I can do to keep the faith, be strong for all our sakes, hang on and trust that some things will take a turn for the better.

And also, to pray for clarity so that I will be able to see the big picture someday, hopefully soon.

2007-09-20T11:39:00.000+08:00

Kazu Sumiyaki
4th floor, Cuppage Plaza

I learnt a couple of useful things on my search for good yakitori in Singapore.

1. A restaurant that was recommended, Ahodori, is no longer at Cuppage Plaza

2. Cuppage Plaza seems to be a haunt of Japanese in Singapore. The building is filled with Japanese restaurants and bars. I think the place is worth another visit, just to soak in the atmosphere.

We were rather disappointed when we found out about point 1 upon arrival. However, we decided to just take a walk around and see if we could locate the other restaurant called Kazu Sumiyaki that another friend had recommended.

The restaurant was packed when we arrived and we realized it was filled with a significant number Japanese diners, a sure sign of the potential of the restaurant.

Because we were both starving, we had quite a field day with the menu, pretty much picking anything that caught our fancy. But do note, there is quite a large discrepancy between the yakitori (food cooked on skewers, or satay sticks, if you must) and the other items on the menu, including appetizers and grilled meats. As the boyfriend said, apart from the yakitori, the rest of the food "actually costs money".

Even though the restaurant was more or less filled to capacity, our first dish arrived within ten to fifteen minutes of us placing our order. And the dishes continued to arrive in rather rapid succession.

I really enjoyed the skewered quail's eggs wrapped in bacon. The bacon was cooked to perfect crispiness and it wasn't too salty. Besides, I love quail's egg!

Meat balls and wild chicken skewers are other traditional favorites that the cooks handled well. The chicken skewers, especially, were juicy, flavorful chunks of meat that were a pleasure to chew on.

However, the supposed grilled wagyu beef was a huge disappointment. The meat was overcooked and instead of savoring the texture of exquisitely marbled beef, all I could taste was oil sliding down my throat. At $10 per skewer of three tiny pieces of wagyu beef, that was probably one of the worst food experiences of my life. I should have paid someone $10 for me to not eat it.

The foie gras meatball, too, was a little bit of a let down because there was too little foie gras and too much chopped lettuce.

Desert was an unexpected surprise. We shared two mochi ice cream dishes between us. Being Japanese, and prone to all sorts of fanciful creations, the mochi ice cream came with strangely wonderful trappings. The black sesame mochi was covered with a glazed caramel netting. The green tea mochi had an almond cracker and red bean paste on the side. The mochi layer might have been a tad too thick, but otherwise, it was the perfect ending to a dinner of grilled food.

All in, Kazu Sumiyaki is a great place to visit for an authentic Japanese pub food experience. Just remember to wash all that greasy food down with copious amounts of green tea and sake. And of course, order a mochi ice cream to cool the tastebuds after the meal.

Photograhps (from top): Mini hamburger, wild chicken chunks, quail's egg wrapped in bacon, foie gras meatball

It would be criminal not to blog this

2007-09-14T23:52:00.000+08:00

I was just minding my own business, hurrying along the CBD area while trying to run a few errands when I quite literally stopped dead in my tracks.
An entire - need I say highly enviable - range of Chanel bags were prominently displayed at a secondhand store at Far East Square. Sure I was rushing for time and my feet were being pinched to an inch of their life in a pair of towering heels, but I could not resist the call of those bags.
So I tottered into the shop, all the while cursing my vainly impractical decision to wear those heels, and headed straight for those Chanel bags. There, among an adorable cream evening purse with a spring clasp, a large shoulder bag and perhaps a tote, was a black calfskin 2.55!
Before I collapse into a heap of gushes, let me give some background on the 2.55. It is one of Coco Chanel's classic handbags and it remains one of her most popular designs today. The bag is a rectangular quilted bag, comes in a variety of skins and colors, and has Chanel's signature chain shoulder straps. If you are looking for a classic, understated handbag that will hold your wallet, cellphone, keys and lipgloss, this is THE bag to get.
And there the 2.55 was, sitting so unobstrusively in a secondhand store. According to the owner, the bag is about 1.5 years old. However, it is pretty much in perfect condition with no visible scratches or tarnishes. It is made from calfskin, which is more sturdy and less prone to scratches compared to lambskin. I checked to ensure that the bag is not a copy - it comes with its original authenticity label. The best part is that it costs about $2,400. A similar 2.55 from a Chanel boutique would set you back by about $3,700, the owner told me.
Truth be told, I had to force myself to not reach into my purse and whip out my credit card. It was one of those moments when all reasonable thought had abandoned me and I could barely say anything coherent. (Come to think of it, I had a similar moment exactly a week ago, and I will write about it soon. Pictures will be included in this upcoming post too.)
Thankfully, I managed to seal my lips to prevent myself from saying those magic words, "I'll take it." Instead I asked her how long the bag would probably stay on the shelves. Maybe if a winning lottery ticket miraculously ends up in my jeans pocket, I will run back to get it.
"A bag like this will probably go very quickly, maybe within two weeks," she said. "It's not very common for people to sell their 2.55s."
You heard the woman. Now go check the bag out if you are in the market for something like that.

P.S. Apologies for not having the presence of mind to take a namecard from the shop. You know I had my reasons for forgetting. Hehe. However, it is the only secondhand bag shop at Far East Square, so it should not be difficult to locate.

Chanel is just next door

2007-09-13T02:22:00.000+08:00

I cannot be the only person who is bewildered by the line outside Louis Vuitton at Ngee Ann City, can I?

This photograph was taken a few weeks ago on a weekday, in the middle of the day.
A bouncer is manning the door, controlling the flow of traffic. The shop seems to be bustling with shoppers. There are even people in line outside, waiting patiently for their turn to get in! Can you imagine how much worse it is on a weekend?
I'll give the benefit of doubt to the two men in jeans. Maybe they were simply dutifully waiting for their other halves. The blonde woman tending to her kids, however, was most definitely waiting to get in.
I just find it crazy that people will stand in line to get into a shop to spend thousands of dollars. There has to be an easier way to spend all this money. As I pointed out in my title, the Chanel store is right next door, and I have never seen a queue outside that shop. With similar price points between both labels, I cannot understand why anybody would want to put up with the indignity of waiting outside a shop as if they were going to a cheap sample sale when there is an equally expensive shop next door to flash some cash at.
The problem, I feel, could be this herd mentality that seems rather prevalent in Asia. That is not to say I do not see such a phenomenon happening elsewhere (when I was in Michigan, all the sorority girls seemed to think it was a great idea to wear Juicy sweatpants and Ugg boots). It is just that the tendency to conform is such a strong social force here.
Hence, if one person gets a Louis Vuitton bag, everybody else has to get one. Plus, LV has the added advantage of having a very recognizable logo splashed all over most of their bags. It has gotten to the point that whenever I see a monogram LV bag, the first thought that pops into my mind is that the owner of the bag is trying to show-off that he/she has money. How crass.

Which is why, one of the latest releases from LV, the Neverfull bag, annoys me even more.
Personally, I prefer to call it the Discount Louis Vuitton. This bag retails for US$575 at eluxury.com Do not ask me how much it costs here in Singapore because I could not be bothered to wait in line just to go in to make an enquiry. My guess is it probably costs about $1200 here.
I can already hear people exclaiming indignantly that $1200 is a lot of money for a bag. Yes it is, but the other mongram LV bags are even more expensive. I would say it is wishful thinking for anybody to attempt to get a tote bag from any one of the big designer labels for a mere US$575. Heck, my multicolor LV clutch cost $1700, so go do the math for what a larger bag would cost.
Price aside, I think this is a ridiculously impractical bag. Look at how thin the straps are. If you put anything more than a wallet into that bag, I will guarantee you within the hour, you will start to feel the straps cutting into your shoulder and your arm. Besides, there is absolutely nothing special about this tote - there isn't even any nice hardware to justify the price tag.
My only conclusion is that the brand is trying to capture the segment of the market that cannot quite afford a full-price bag but still wants to carry around the much-vaunted LV logo around. This is the same segment that buys LV's small coin purses and keychains but not anything else. It bugs me to no end that a formerly exclusive fashion house has become the staple of noveau-riche Chinese people and a permanent fixture in Chinatown street stalls.
Now, every time I see someone proudly dangling the Neverfull on their arm, as if this were a piece of treasure, I feel like going up to the person and saying, "Excuse me, but you do realize that this bag you are carrying happens to be the cheapest item that LV sells, yes?"
I know, I can be a mean bitch at times. So, I shall end with a public service announcement: There is nothing wrong with not being able to afford the regular LV stuff, or any other big label for that matter. I will be the first person to say that I can't. Money cannot buy style, as evidenced by the dreadful Neverfull. If you are seriously considering buying that bag, just consider looking around for a bag from a lesser-known designer. You will be surprised at the array of styles available (think full leather bags!) and even the quality of bags that can be purchased at the same price. Just because I am feeling extra generous now that I am very close to bedtime, here are a few brands to start you off - Kooba, Furla, Anna Corinna, Rebecca Minkoff. Happy shopping!

Life in three-inch Miu Mius #1

2007-09-02T17:18:00.000+08:00

I finally had the opportunity to premiere my new shoes on Thursday evening. Well, my plan almost fell through because of the horrible intermittent rain that just refused to stop.
Then, I told myself, "Bad weather be damned! You've trudged through snowbanks in Tods boots, slipped on ice while carrying a hot cup of coffee and you know what it feels like when the capillaries in your toes have frozen in spite of two layers of wool socks. What's a little rainwater to you?"
And so I decided that dinner at Le Saint Julien (more on that later) would be the occassion for me to introduce my Miu Mius to the world*.

Here is the lowdown on what it is like to be wearing way-too-expensive soles for the first time in one's life.

The highs:
The shoes did wonders for my posture. I do not think I have ever stood this tall before.
No first-wear blisters with this pair of shoes. I must say it is almost worth the investment to not have to hobble around painfully for a week after breaking in a new pair of shoes.
I felt very happy. If I'm happy, then they have already fulfilled their purpose for existing.

The lows:
I will admit my heart skipped a beat each time the boyfriend accidentally kicked my shoes under the table.
I also had to resist the urge to whip my shoes off my feet every now and then to scrutinize them for scratches, scuff marks and stains. Yes, I know they are just shoes.
I found myself becoming extremely aware of where I tread. But I am going to qualify this as a low only if I am in a hurry to get to my destination. Otherwise, I think it is a generally good practice to be careful where one steps.

*Fine, I cheated a little. I wore slippers between my apartment and the boyfriend's place so the shoes would not get wet.

No spoilers ahead

2007-08-29T14:04:00.000+08:00

Ratatouille
I don't usually enjoy animated movies. When watching an animated film, I find myself evaluating it based on a different set of criteria compared to a movie with real people in it. It seems to me that I have so much more to watch out for - such as technology used in the film, how realistic the characters appear, the vocal talent - compared to simply watching real human beings act and emote. That said, I do understand there is a lot to be appreciated in animation, just that it is a personal preference of mine.
Ratatouille is one of those rare animated films that has managed to catch my fancy. It's probably the best 3D movie I've watched since Finding Nemo. I even like it better than The Incredibles and Shrek. For some reason, I've never really liked Shrek that much.
What's it about Ratatouille that I enjoyed so much?
The pretentious French names of the rats - Remy and Emille - even though they speak with an American accent, the disgusting-ness of rats that eventually seem rather adorable, the depiction of the chaos in a restaurant kitchen and, of course, all that food.
And a bonus - the movie runs for two hours, meaning more bang for your buck compared to the usual 90 minute span of other animated movies.

The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger
This book made me cry. Twice.
It is a simple story about the life of man who can time travel and his wife (who can't). Yet, nothing in this novel is simple.
The sheer intricacy of the water-tight plot is a pleasure to read. I am still in awe at how the author managed to zip effortlessly back and forth in time as she chronicles Henry's time travels without confusing the reader. To the best of my knowledge - and boy did I try - there are no loopholes in this story.
The best thing about the novel is that it manages to remain so real and so human, even though the story is based on an unbelievable premise. It is impossible to read it dispassionately. I dare you to.
Although this is the sort of story that makes you want to curl up and snuggle with that special somebody, it also has sufficient science jargon and fight/drunken brawl sequences to prevent it from turning into an overwrought melodrama.
I have heard differing opinions but for me, the ending is just beautiful. It is poignant, bittersweet and brings the story full circle by gently reemphasizing the theme of undying, timeless love. I wouldn't have wanted it to end any other way.

Update

2007-08-27T13:41:00.000+08:00

I don't think I will be buying the Botkier Black Rose after all. The main reason is that it is just too expensive here in Singapore. It'll cost me S$1300. In USA, the bag only costs US$675. Even if I factor in tax, it will still total no more than US$722, which is about S$1100, at most.
If I were still in New York and living off an allowance in US dollars, $700-ish wouldn't be too big a deal to spend on a bag of that quality. In fact, I'd still have spare change leftover to survive on sandwiches, instant noodles and pizza for the rest of the month (Haha kidding! I only eat those things because I happen to like them).
But here, the same bag will be costing me over a thousand bucks in the local currency. I can't bring myself to spend all that money on what is, after all, a smaller brand and so I probably won't. For now, unless I locate a kind soul living in the USA who is willing to bring the bag back to Singapore for me, I guess I'll just live without the bag.
-fingers crossed-

In a quandary

2007-08-22T23:01:00.000+08:00

I really like this bag.

Botkier Black Rose Medium Satchel, price still unknown

It is the perfect size for me to tote around while on the run during the day. I like the fact that the straps are long enough for me to carry the bag on my shoulder instead of dangling it on my arm. It also appears sufficiently tough and stain resistant so I'll be able to toss the bag around without worrying about it getting scratched or dirty. I do need a nice versatile leather bag that I can use at work and this one fits the bill rather well. It is a simple bag, but the rose pouch hanging from it and the pleated handles prevent the bag from becoming boring. Besides, I'm really attracted to this rich shade of plum. Not only do I not own anything in this color, the metallic sheen makes this otherwise casual bag a little dressier.

But this is where my problem begins. I love the Black Rose, but I don't LOVE it the way I do my Marc Jacobs Stam. However, realistically speaking, not many bags will be able to measure up to my Stam, just because that bag has a lot of sentimental value attached to it. But that's another story for another day. I'm also a little worried that I am rushing into buying this Botkier just because it is in limited supply. Additionally, I'm not exactly in the market for a new bag as of yet since I think it's been less than a year since I made my last major bag purchase.

So should I buy the bag or should I give it a miss? If you've read up to this point, please leave me a comment with your opinion. I'm horribly indecisive and prone to obsessing unnecessarily, so I'm always appreciative of good advice!

Photo: shopbop.com

Mustard, not yellow

2007-08-21T02:45:00.000+08:00

I predict mustard's going to be a popular color in the coming months.
I find it an interesting color because it's not quite yellow, hence it doesn't make my skin look pale and sickly the way other yellows do. Asian skin, with its yellow undertones, just does not hold up too well against most other shades of yellow. It's also deep and rich enough for fall, which will make for great transitional outfits. The transition seasons - spring and fall - are just more interesting fashion-wise because it takes more creativity to be able to dress for unpredictable weather. Think layers. Summer's boring because most people wear practically nothing and during winter it's all about big coats. I know Singapore is a tropical country, but I pretend I'm perpetually in a transitional season since I have to dress for both the heat and humidity and my air-conditioned office.
My interest in the color mustard first began about five to six months back when Marc Jacobs rolled out a range of bags in mustard for his Marc line. I was planning to wait around for the sale season to see if I could snag one without having to pay full price. Then, the very sweet boyfriend must have read my mind since he gave me this lovely Marc bag as a graduation present in May.

It's such an arresting color that I've actually just sat around doing nothing but stare at the bag. It doesn't hurt that the leather is so buttery soft to the touch as well. I've been carrying this bag with a white babydoll dress but I think I shall try it with some gray pieces soon.

Now, the color's popped up everywhere in the high street stores. Both Zara and Mango have a variety of tops in mustard. I'm willing to bet that H&M has at least a few items in this color even though I've not been into a H&M shop for more than a month. I bought this from Mango to go with my Marc bag and Miu Miu heels. Dark jeans should complete the look quite nicely.

Methinks I shall wear this outfit on Sunday for church, lunch and work. I can't wait!

A couple of mustard-inspired outfit ideas:
- satin mustard top with gray pencil skirt
- gray, black and possibly chocolate brown will go wonderfully with mustard

An excellent night

2007-08-17T02:41:00.000+08:00

Garibaldi
36 Purvis Street

I've been craving good Italian food since I left New York. This wish for a satisfying Italian meal was fulfilled at Garibaldi.

We (the restaurant and I) started off on the right foot when they ushered the boyfriend and I into their back room. A few minutes later, while we were still settling in, the diners at the only other occupied table left, a curtain was drawn, and voila! We had our own private room. Sure, it was a Tuesday night, but I still appreciate the effort.

Our waiter, who was extremely well-versed with the menu, told us he could get us a mixed platter of appetizers. It's not on the menu, which makes it doubly special.
This is what we got:

From left, Prosciutto with melon, mozzarella cheese (I believe this is made from buffalo's milk) on tomato, crab salad, beef carpaccio, and eggplant parmigiano.

They're all homestyle, traditional Italian starters, just the way I like it. The beef carpaccio, in particular, stood out. I don't normally go out of my way to eat raw food, but if it's there, I'll eat it. I'm glad I did. This raw beef was perfectly soft, tender and meaty enough that I could still feel its texture on my tongue.

The primi, pasta if you prefer, came next.

I ordered the beef ravioli with porcini mushrooms in a cream sauce. He had the angel hair pasta with lobster, apparently their house special. My ravioli was simple but flavorful, my basic requirements for a good pasta. Something about this pasta just worked, unlike what I had at Da Paolo, which just failed to impress. The lobster pasta, though, was a little too ripe for my liking. Maybe it would have tasted better if the lobster was fresher.

For our secondi, roast duck breast and grilled fish of the sea bass family was the order of the night.

The duck tasted good but was completely outshone by the fish. Wonder of wonders, the fish was juicy. Just imagine, a juicy grilled fish. Enough said.

Then it was time for desert, my favorite part of the meal. Behold the surprise waiting for me.

And there's more.
The entire staff came in to sing me a birthday song! I know it's cheesy but I'm a sucker for cheesiness and it was cute. Plus, it's always fun to see people do embarrassing things, like sing birthday songs to a stranger.

As the final cherry on the icing, the homemade tiramisu birthday cake was yummy. There's no alcohol in this version of tiramisu, just very strong coffee, but that was perfectly fine by me, considering that I'd already polished off half a bottle of a Dom Perignon vintage by then -wink-

We stumbled out of the restaurant, two happy diners bursting at the seams after a wonderful meal. I'm giving this place my thumbs up for the great but unpretentious food, cozy setting and discreet but attentive service.

P.S. A zillion thanks to the boyfriend for orchestrating the entire night from the 'private room' to the champagne, flowers and my cake :)

A ponderation

2007-08-16T21:21:00.000+08:00

A wonderful thought just occurred to me.
There is absolutely nothing wrong in using my transport allowance to buy shoes.
Lol

Dude, you can't prove the tissue's yours

2007-08-15T20:35:00.000+08:00

Here's a story that ought to induce a few giggles and possibly open pandora's box.

A few days ago, the boyfriend went to a food court with a few colleagues from Hong Kong for lunch. They split up to get their food. When he came back, he found them sitting at a table with two tissue packs on it.
"Whose tissue is this?" he asked.
"Nobody's. It's for us to use," his colleague said.
So they ate their lunch and opened the tissue packs. (We all just know what's going to happen, don't we?)
Then, a woman came up to their table and asked them if the tissue on their table belonged to them. Once again, the colleague, his hands now clutching a few pieces of tissue paper from the packet, told the woman the tissue was already on their table when they sat down.
Without saying anything else, the woman grabbed the open packets off their table, and stomped off in a huff, leaving the befuddled guys to their food, sans tissue paper.

And that is exactly what I'm going to do from now on if I see tissue paper packets lying on unoccupied tables (open it and use it, that is. Not throw tissue on a table to reserve the space). Really, if people want an empty table that much, they might as well delegate one person to sit and wait for the others to get their food.

Introducing.

2007-08-14T18:44:00.001+08:00

Miu Miu Vernice Shadow in Nero, $590

Take a look at my new babies! I went shopping today and simply couldn't resist bringing them home with me. Obviously, the photographs barely do justice to the real thing but take my word for it, they're HOT.
I'm deciding if I should wear them out tonight. I don't normally use my new purchases immediately so I can enjoy the anticipation of finding the perfect occasion to debut them. However, tonight is a special day so I just might break my rule.
In any case, keep a lookout for "Life in three-inch Miu Mius", coming soon to this blog...

"And when she walks, she walks with passion"

2007-08-08T02:03:00.000+08:00

Am currently obsessed with very beautiful, very expensive shoes.
It all began with Nelly Furtado's Maneater. Something about the ferocity of the song and its thumping drum beats conjured up the image of a woman walking all over a man in - what else but hot sexy heels. I've become hopelessly addicted to the song and of course, that mental image has lingered.
Then a few days ago, I came across a tongue-in-cheek article in the Wall Street Journal about women who don designer shoes when they need that power trip. See, the magic in very beautiful very expensive shoes, that less beautiful less expensive shoes do not possess, is that the wearer knows that they are special. So when she puts them on, she becomes a little more special too. And we all know what wonders can arise from a confidence boost.
Not bad for a pair of shoes, even if they do cost a pretty penny.
Therefore, I think, I just might give in and go shopping some day soon. After all, they will serve as a good reminder that I shouldn't allow myself to be walked over but should be doing the stomping instead! Yay to empowerment in a shoe!

p.s. The title comes from a line in Maneater
p.p.s. Yes, the WSJ does have entertaining articles like the above mentioned. Plus, their more serious articles are surprisingly easy to read.
p.p.s. For those who remember one of my favourite blog posts from my previous blog, my first love will always be bags. But there's no harm in diversifying, is there?

It's too beautiful to be true

2007-08-06T03:20:00.000+08:00

Graze
4 Rochester Park

It seems to me the biggest problem this restaurant faces is that its location and decor far outshines the quality of the food. Housed in a lovely colonial bungalow, the main dining area of the restaurant is located in the courtyard of the building. Dark wooden beams, small oil lamps and ceiling fans create an intimate outdoor setting for a quiet dinner for two (I have a soft spot for mood setting).

The boyfriend and I sat down with high hopes. "Every restaurant starts with 10 points and then they get deducted," he said. I concur. And so, I think, this will be how my food gets reviewed from now on.

He ordered oyster shooters to start, I chose the table bread. We decided to share the barbecue meat platter - consisting a sirloin, lamb chop, pork chop, chicken and sausage - for our main.

The mint garnish and sorbet with the shooters gave the oyster shooters a refreshing twist, he said. My bread never came. According to the waitress, they had just run out of bread, a travesty indeed for a restaurant of the calibre that Graze is supposed to belong to.

Our meat platter arrived piled high with grilled meats. Here's our comments on the different meats, in the order we ate them.
Lamb - possibly the best of the lot. Was well done but tender and sufficiently juicy.
Sirloin - decent effort at cooking beef in a non-steak restaurant. I think it would have tasted better if it had been taken off the grill about a minute or two earlier.
Chicken - we could really taste the soy, sesame and coriander marinade on the chicken but the inside was too dry.
Rib - thumbs down. Overcooked, dry and chewy.
Sausage - peppery, with a salami-like flavor. It is unique but nothing to get excited about.
Come to think of it, I think the mashed potatoes that came on the side really kicked the asses of the meats. The potatoes were homemade, slightly chunky enough that I could chew on potato bits, and were garlicky, buttery and milky in just the right proportions.

At this point, we were almost too full to consider dessert but decided to share their "Black and White" pudding with ice cream. When it came, I realised that pudding here pretty much means the same thing as molten chocolate cake. It is really hard to mess up a molten chocolate cake, and I did enjoy Graze's rich chocolate version of it. The "white" vanilla cake however, was a little overcooked and doesn't have the gooey explosion of flavor that comes with the chocolate version.

Drinks-wise, Graze has an extensive cocktail list and is especially adventurous with mint-infused cocktails. The only mint cocktail I like is the mojito but I didn't feel like having it so I went with my standard lychee martini. It was decent - much better than Zouk's too tiny and too sweet lychee martinis but couldn't compare to the one at Top of the M.
As for wines, I can't comment much but perhaps there may be a guest critic making an appearance here some day (hint!).

And on a final but rather important note for those who are concerned about such things, the service here is decent, by Singapore standards. No attitude from the waitstaff and we didn't have to resort to acrobatics to catch the attention of a waiter. However, I think our waitress could use a little more training to get her accustomed to the menu.

All in, it was a sufficiently pleasant dining experience but really, I'd return just so I can imagine that I'm living in a colonial house.

Hello world

2007-08-06T02:52:00.000+08:00

Welcome to my second attempt at blog writing. The first took me through much of college before I eventually lost interest in it. With some luck, this will get me through my six years as an indentured worker bee.
And yes, this is going to be all about the good stuff because nobody needs to relive the bad things that happen :)