tight tweeds and secret needs

It’s another Zebra Day. Bleary eyed in the morning, I tumbled out of bed and got changed. One of my research mates said she managed to get the car. Another would be late, so we zipped off for a breakfast of banana prata and teh-cinno.

Nanu decided she’d lie down and laze around. .

And I, too, decided to lie down on the bench like a homeless vagabond at the zoo.

Ultra dressed-down because. . I always laugh and secretly photograph mad people who wear high heels and knee-high boots to the zoo. Hadiha.

Being researchers means. . we get free meal coupons. Like those Chinese takeaways in Western movies.

tee Nichii, shorts some factory outlet in Perth, WA, sneakers North Star; handbag Chloé; earrings Six; hairband beaded by friend

It’s headache buying a pair of flats. At least to me, since I live in high heels all the time, unless I’m barefooted.

So I dedicated one hour on Monday to hunt for a pair of flats. It’s quite an arduous task, worse than mastering a piece by Chopin, because. . I probably need Flats For Dummies.

Finally, after shortlisting a few pairs mentally, I walked into this new store known as Trois + Inch. I found a few really pretty pairs and finally decided on a brilliant flowered pair with the prettiest prints on the back of the sole. (It’s okay, I look at the backs of my soles)

Later on after my stomach lurching looking the Ridiculous shoes offered in Bebé– God, do I love Ridiculous WhamBamSlam shoes (okay, sometimes words fail to articulate I just grunt and warble)– I decided to get myself a pair of silver shoes. It’s like ZipMeUpFeet! As usual, I went off to Zara. I love their printed dresses. And got a bit busy in the changing room . .

So I’ve test-driven the silver heels already. Up and down a few steep slopes. Comfort level? 8.5/10. Lovely.

*******

I never knew it was so difficult to decide what to pack. I.e. To Pack Light. That’s my main concern. It’s a bitch to lug around truckloads of stuff, esp when you’re considering snow which means coats. So I spent a bit of time drawing out mood boards for stuff to wear. I swear it sucks to plan what to wear, it’s the hardest thing in the world because I’m so used to just about throwing on anything. Before long it was time to leave for the day again. Got on my colorful culottes that I picked up at the jumble– I love culottes since you can sit like a gangster in them, and yet they;re still so flowy. Kinda like gaucho pants.

Colors seem to be the recurrent theme these days

top Zara; culottes vintage; earrings Accessorize; hairband some random store; shoes VNC; belt Aldo

Silver silver silver shoes. . zip up thy feet

The prettiest cut-outs embellished with bright beads.

P.S. I secretly wish they were higher. If only I had my custom shoe couturier. Heaven.

top Mango; capris Zara; shoes Charles & Keith; earrings Live (@ Perth); ring Aldo

*******

Yup, my brain’s officially fried. I’ve been up in a fix trying to re-allocate my tutoring duties to my friend for some of my students and then I’ve been also thinking. . hmm, for six days whilst I’d be spending more than a grand she’ll be earning the one grand I could have earned. Haha. Over here, the best way to make a fast(er) buck is to tutor students. Depending on your experience, expertise, connections, recommendations, etcetera, you can make anything from between thirty to fifty an hour per student. Which is way better than say, data entry or working as a cashier. Our wages here for part-time jobs are pathetic. Like six to eight bucks an hour. Impossible to survive.

So tutoring’s the job of choice for supporting myself. I suppose I’ve been pretty lucky, given pretty good assignments. It’s not all that easy, having to explain stuff and having to cultivate a certain level of otherwise-nonexistent patience, but I suppose, how else do I pay the bills and still have money to go about my lifestyle. Honestly speaking, I think it is no excuse for a person my age to be saddled with debt, because I see some of my peers going down that path and it scares me. Not in debt because of financial doldrums for necessary stuff, but because the allure of spending on an unaffordable fast life got the better of them. I can sometimes understand why alot of people mistakenly think I’m in debt– I swear it’s insulting– because I’m the one with the shiny new stuff and the gazillions of shoes, but it’s also got to do with money management. For starters, I have not taken handouts from my folks for years even though it’s pretty much the norm. I pay my share of money for the household because I feel it’s only right– it’d be insane if I kept buying shoes and not lift a finger for finances at home, wouldn’t it?

But it’s when emergencies happen, like laptops crashing and vet bills for my pets and stuff like that that make me thankful for having work. Earlier this year when I started having a chronic outbreak of acne again, this time being one that could not be solved by normal antibiotics nor strong creams, what with nodules and comedones and pus-filled huge tumor-like acnes, I was downcast. Sure, some people have bitterly pointed out that I spent thousands on my face, calling me high-maintenance and all; but I could bitterly point out, too, that I worked for the money. And at least I had the money. Otherwise I would quietly resort to other treatments with high downtime and medications like Accutane with a lot of side effects that would render my eyes and my already dry-lips dehydrated beyond recognition. Essentially, I still think it’s important to manage your money, before it takes control of you. In all seriousness, even if I do splurge on dresses that set me back by a few hundred bucks, even if I love to eat, and even if I buy eyeglasses that cost me more than six hundred bucks because I’m a thousand-degrees myopic, I still buy my fifty-cents clothes. I still buy cheap books to read. My friend said, it’s unnecessary to worry if you might be a snob because a snob would never bother worrying that. So I’ve learnt to put whoever who moans bitterly as simply idiots barking away. I’ve made my sacrifices like rushing back from school to teach, teaching for six hours straight on and being so hungry I could faint later, and cutting back on entertainment. It’s fine with me. I’m learning my own lessons, and at least I’m working for my money and my stuff. I’m not taking handouts and being bitter at how supposedly ‘little money’ I have. Sometimes I could slap some of these people. Eight hundred bucks per month for food alone from parental handouts is not little. You didn’t even have to lift a finger for that money, whilst you groan about it. Stupid idiots, anyhows.

Enough of that sombre note, though. Sometimes I get a bit pissed off at such people. These are my own justifications and my own reasons, much as I am aware.

And I’m kinda sure that I don’t exactly look like a tutor, dressing a bit crazy but sure as hell beats wearing bermudas and tees to teach, right? Hah. I remember how some of my students’ friends would ask them, “Are you sure that’s your tutor, not some model” and I burst out laughing. So anyways, this was the same outfit for the entire day– I didn’t do my usual thing of changing (my excuse to justify wearing all my clothes). Some friends remarked jokingly that I looked a little like I was in PJs–I really wasn’t, this time– and then when another unanimously said, “I’m guessing you pulled out these clothes thinking you wanna get some sleep, huh?” as he topped it up with a big wink, I realized, shit. Everytime I go to the skin doc’s I need to wait for the numbing cream to settle in. So I fall asleep on the surgical bed there. Perhaps I really am dressing in the mornings thinking I’m going off to sleep.

And after today’s six-hours of teaching, I’m bushed.

*******

I suppose this is going to be one hell of a blardy long post. I haven’t gone through my Shoe ones so they’ll have to wait. .

So as I was confirming my travel visa I opened my passport and burst out laughing. I swear I always laugh at myself, it’s the first thing I do when I look at the mirror in the morning. Helps to cultivate a good sense of absurdity.

I remember hurriedly shooting a photo for my passport since the old one (circa twelve-years old) was expiring. And then this came out.

It bloody looked like a combination between a mug shot and an obituary shot. Worse was how my friends said it looked good. Men are blind, I swear. At least the girls said I looked more like a vampiress. That, I could agree with.

I’ve known men who’ve been fascinated with my face. Because they claim it changes everyday, coupled with my dress sense which mutates everyday. I never really knew my face changed that much, until I realized that there are people who complete do not recognize me after a week, because they say I look completely different. About three days a week I get people on the streets trying to guess my ethnicity– at first I thought it was a dumb pickup line then I realized that apart from the small percentage who are doing that, it really wasn’t. People– including those I know– give me all sorts of strange combinations of bloodlines which are ludicrous, once I made a list of those they guessed and thought that if that were true, I’d be the hawtest thing that ever walked upon this earth.

One of my gurlfriends has concluded that there are days I wake up looking Chinese because the shopkeeper speaks to me in Mandarin, and there are days I wake up looking a bit mixed, that same shopkeeper starts fumbling with me in English it’s a bit ridiculous. This gurlfriend’s Arab-Malay and she, too, has got a gazillion faces, so she understands where I come from. We who suffer from facial identity disorder. I even got emails from my coursemates (complete strangers) asking me, “Oh God, you are CHINESE!?” and I was definitely more than amused. Seriously, I never knew people emailed others such questions. What took the cake was when one of my student’s father asked her, “Just how many tutors do you have” and she replied, “Daddy it’s the same one all the time“. And he asked, “Why does she look like ten different people“.

Then those who love to snap my photos kept pointing it out to me, one even took three months’ worth of my faces and compiled it into a five-hundred face montage (I’m not kidding) just to prove his point and I was convinced. Having my MacBook makes things no better. Sometimes I play in front of Photobooth, a bit curious at just the numbers of faces I come up with, and then make them into Postcards (figuratively speaking, for myself, and for. . .).

Select faces in the past six months from Photobooth:

It’s part-Narcissist (in my defense my middle name, as I like to joke, is Narcissa), and part-exploration; but as a friend with a MacBook too realized, heck, he loves playing and discovering new faces too. He’s British and so far I’ve seen all sorts of faces in him. Like Greek, Chinese, and then it spans to different eras like the 20s and the 30s. So much for his inane fascination with my faces till he realized. . he’s got a million too. My main justification is, if a man fourteen years older than me can have fun snapping his face all the time, so can I. Hah. It’s harmless fun, I reckon.

The past two days I’ve been scuttling and running around. Today, though, I finally have about two hours to spare. Back from the derm’s, hopefully he’ll kill all my acne and then I can save some money.

The earlier part of yesterday was spent buying essentials for my trip. Like power adaptors, travel-sized contact lens solution (and of course, testing them out for today), tightening my eye glasses at the optician’s, etcetera. I realized something. It’s only before I’m embarking on a travel that I will buy a pair of flats. Like this gorgeous golden pair that has since spoilt because one of the dogs at the pound chewed off the straps. My fault for wearing it to the pound.

On Saturday I found a dress at the jumble sale. It was a tad too long, so yesterday morning, I haphazardly snipped it off before going out in it. . Anyway, it’s only forty cents (or is it thirty!?) so it doesn’t really matter.

Belted it up with my Mango belt before leaving. I swear it’s so bloody hard to take self-shots, I had to balance this on the steps, cross my fingers and hope it turned out well. I’m kinda sick of the same backgrounds I have in all my photos, but ever since that macaque I was doing research on chased me everywhere and I dropped my camera, I’ve been pretty wary about taking it out. Yes, I seem to be doing research on alot of animals for my schoolwork, and then on weekends I’m counseling at the pound, I suppose it’s some sort of self-compensation for not having sufficient money to enter vet school.

At Miss Selfridge’s, I found this triple-buckled belt. And you know my penchant for buckles and belts and leathers. So this had to come home with me. Immediately after paying, I wore it. Shopped and read a while, caféing and planning some work stuff before heading off to The Best Friend’s place for chocolate fondue over chick flicks. Heavenly. Hopefully she sends me the photos soon.

dress vintage; shoes Charles & Keith; belt Ms Selfridge; earrings vintage; handbag Chloé; ring Aldo

*******

On Monday I received my researcher pass at the zoo! Wheewy. Which means I’ll be spending about two days a week there researching on the . . zebras. Oh God, how do I love those creatures. Every zebra has got its unique markings that constitute its fingerprint. And I love their tails, which look so ingenious; the serious scientific aspects of the one-year study I’m embarking upon aside, I could create quite a few fashion ranges just getting inspired by zebras alone.

The upside is that I can tell all six apart now. This one’s Nanu, the alpha female. The thing about doing animal research is that you sit there doing focal and ad libitum sampling, it’s relaxed and very Zen-like. Kinda like meditation. A time for No-thought. I like it. A throwaway from an otherwise fast-paced life that makes my friends call me Sonic The Hedgehog.

Quite obviously, I had to dress down. The top has cute little ruffles at the bottom hem, and a lace-fringed neckline. It’s nice and loose and purrfect for hot days. The belt is actually one of those floral ones from my mother’s collection of tea dresses. I’ve been stealing them all with a vengeance.

And whilst locking my house doors, I saw my father’s shoes. And had to wear it. Ho ho ho.

Threw in my brother’s cuff for a leather-and-lace look (a subtle one that only I know about, that is

The cheetah at the exhibit where we took shelter from the rain seemed to love me. It bounded over to the glass and pose there as though it was my cat.

top Mango; shorts some factory outlet in Perth; cuffsome random store; bag some random bazaar market; ring Forever 21; shoes Bata (my father’s)

*******

Off to work now, for an algorithm and chemical-equation filled five hours or so. Before a good dinner. Maybe I’ll do a shoe post tonight. Ciao!

The week’s ended. I hope I survive this week. Gonna be one hell of an insane marathon, before I fly off, since I have received a few work assignments. To top it off, I think I’m gonna be dead next semester given the non-school workload, brain research, graduation project and all. God bless my soul. I’m gonna be working like a bastard again, just like the way I did last year, the way I swore I would never repeat. My stomach’s a bit queasy thinking about it.

So one of the little delights/treats is to pop into a shop if only for a while, since I shop pretty fast, and don’t normally try on my clothes. I found this pretty sheath dress hanging on the racks in Mango, and knew I had to have it. With the prettiest flowers in outline, it’s got an old-fashioned twist that warmed my heart instantly. With only five minutes to spare, I took a deep breath, found the smallest size and paid for it.

Somehow the dress gives me The Chinese Girl look, which I do like.

Love the jade earrings. They’re so heavy I only dare to wear them when I’m going out for four hours or less.

dress: Penelope and Monica Cruz for Mango

shoes: VNC

belt: Aldo

handbag: my grandmother’s

earrings: unknown (gift)

ring: unknown (gift)

A few weeks back I did a few shots of stuff I was *supposed* to sell, but my local Yahoo Auctions is down, and Ebay’s a bitch in more than one way. It’s way easier to be a buyer than a seller, in any circumstance. Anyhows, I dragged the yellow-and-white pinstripped shorts out. Wore it in just about this style as the makeshift-shoot in my back garden, since the sun is.still.scorching.

I think I’m getting a tad obsessed with that animal-print bangle I got from the zoo. I was a bit shocked to see it lying in the baskets. .and on sale! It’s made of a slightly translucent resin-like finish, underneath it you can see animal-prints (I think leopard) on fabric. Woot woot for the zoo.

pink knit top: Nice Claup (my mom’s)

yellow pinstripped shorts: Zara

pumps: VNC

leather clutch/wristlet: Mango

bangles: the zoo; Forever 21

ring: Forever 21

Hot days when the sun scorches demands for cheery colors and butterfly kisses.

large multi-colored earrings

muddy heels

a bouquet of dried zinnia and piles of tiles

un

dos

tres

dress: M&S (my mom’s)

shoes: Nine West

earrings: Sportsgirl (@ Perth)

ring: Forever 21

bangles: the zoo; Aldo

handbag: Guess?

Yay. I’m faking things. . again. So being The In-House Midget means that skirts that flatter The Mother look frumpily long(er) on me. Like I like to joke, ‘exquisitely dumpy’. I like the floral prints on this skirt– even if I hated it a good many years ago, I swear my hatred of florals, polka dots and lace is haunting me right-smack in the face, given me a bloody good slap. Karma, say I. I decided that the tie-waist portion could be tied around my neck instead, therein faking a dress. Yesterday was pretty rainy and cold, so I wore a tee rather than a wifebeater inside.

tee: Red

skirt: Trend

earrings: Six

booties: ClubMarc

ring: Aldo

Yup, minimal accessories for yesterday. Alright, Happy Friday and have a glorious weekend, all!

I woke up this morning with a fever. Popped some pills and fell asleep. But I had stuff to see to later, and thankfully the fever wore down, I was up and about by 2.

Threw on my PJ top– yup, it’s really PJs– and then I decided not to sell this old pair of cutoffs but rather roll up the hem and play with it.

See the tiny rings at the sides of the pockets? My dad calls them the Beggar Sect a.k.a. 丐帮 pants because in pugilistic China where all swordfighting novels are set in, there exists a sect of highly skilled beggars. The leaders would have rings around their pockets, and from these, stuff and trinkets and what-nots would hang off.

One day on, I’ve decided I really love the hair. And the command not to wash my hair and let the chemicals settle in was followed. No matter how strange it felt. I hate sleeping without washing my hair. It’s the greatest sin ever, living in a tropical climate like this.

top: PJs from La Senza

pants: Mango

earrings: Accessorize

bangle: Dorothy Perkins

shoes: Charles & Keith

shades: Mango

handbag: Charles & Keith

ring: Aldo

belt: Osmose

On my birthday I finally decided I needed proper hair, since the Bedhead look no longer works when your hair’s grown oh-too-thick. But I swear researching on the best salons to style your hair in is an utter bitch, because there’s always gonna be really bad complaints everywhere. The last time I permed my hair (in utter defiance to someone who told me to straighten my hair) I paid quite a bi. And was nagged at so much by the stylist and his assistant, I nearly died of shock. The ordeal of sitting there for more than three hours practically bruised me and all my memories.

Finally, I decided to sleep in, and wander around my neighborhood, picking a proper salon. You see, all I really needed was a stylist who could give me proper advise, treat my hair right, and not scold me for four months of No Combing and No Conditioning. Lol. Talk about abused hair.

And I got a really awesome and friendly stylist yesterday, I’d rate her service as 5-stars. She advised me to do a spa perm, and to get slightly tighter curls, so they’d look perfect when they loosen in about two week’s time. In the meantime I’m more than pleased with the results. Although it means that now I’d have to condition my hair, and use two different hair products (which actually is just scrunch-it-in for 5 seconds), this is pretty much wash-and-go. Almost Bedhead.

And then halfway, my friend dropped by to pass me my birthday gift. This uber-cute River Island vanity case. All leopard print with metallic-pink borders. Lovely. Off for a drink at one of the many cafés in the neighborhood, and for pasta. Since I hadn’t eaten anything except lunch, but sit in the salon and drink green tea all day. I love my neighborhood. The village center is about a five minutes’ walk from my home, and is known as Serangoon Gardens Village. Extremely laidback, quirky, and very relaxed. With a few cute boutique stores, and loads of good food from Indian to Russian, as well as a country club to laze around in like pop into the jacuzzi or to study, I love it here. And then I was corrected by the stylist and my friend that this isn’t ‘just a neighborhood’. Some lifestyle concept of sorts. Sometimes we sit down and count the Porsches streaming in just for the kicks of it, in the evenings. Otherwise, we sit there and profile people like really mean voyeurs. Ahh well, whatever it is. All I know is that I’m gonna miss this place when I move abroad.

Love the skirt. It’s one of my favorite finds whilst thrifting. I always keep a lookout for printed skirts and culottes that I can wear high-waisted, to be paired with a simple top like a tee or a wifebeater, and voila.

Even The Cat’s decided she wants to be a part of Femme Feline.

wifebeater: Mango

skirt: vintage

necklace: Aldo

shades: Mango

shoes: Charles & Keith

cosmetic case: River Island

belt: Aldo

Keeping track of photos in-itself is a bitch– they’re all jumbled up in my iPhoto. This was Saturday’s

I nearly died of shock when I walked past the fan and the entire dress blew upwards like an umbrella gone wrong in a wind too strong. Frantic, I grabbed stockings and a belt.

And just in case my mother had a heart attack upon seeing me go out this way, I decided to throw in a camisole. Lol.

dress: Zara

stockings: some random store

belt: vintage

ring: Aldo

shoes: ClubMarc

camisole: Mango

hairband: River Island

earrings: Aldo

handbag: Guess?

gold bow cuff worn around bag: Diva