tight tweeds and secret needs

Sharon’s post on her gorgeous red espadrilles reminded me I have a pair of wedges I’ve only worn twice. The good thing about buying stuff on a vacation is that you cannot wait to incorporate your loot– well, it does feel like loot– into your outfits from a dearth of the ability to delay gratification. I remember going shopping and chancing upon this pair of wedges in Perth. So pretty, cheery and summery, I had no reason not to wear them. The next day, we drove up to an old town, York– the perfect reason/excuse to wear them. To my delight, too, I found this long-sleeved off-white top. It’s so snug and so comfortable, I love basics that oomph up an outfit; on further realization do I realize I bought the gold earrings there too.

Living in a cultural vacuum where I am means that I don’t really get to see places that are laidback and rustic. York, being a small town about three hours drive from Perth, has little human traffic. From the old wood-paneled bars to the architecture of the buildings, it feels like one has stepped into a slice of history.

Ready and raring to go in the late morning. The night before, we’d stayed on the houseboat, having some sort of gathering there, and playing cards till late. That morning was some sort of private cruise down to Caning River, after which we went canoeing. I never knew I’d ever engage in anything remotely sporty during my holidays!

(l: where I stayed; r: the arid York)

Here in Singapore, you can find really really really cheap clothes. And insanely cheap shoes. Over in Aussie, as I realize, it’s hardly ever the case. But the one thing I like about their local designers is the care taken in design and material selection, making the clothes fit like a dream. And, of course, my friends wickedly tell me, “Oh won’t you miss our cheap shoes soooo much” because I’m intending to move after I graduate, and they think their words are going to lasso me back.

directions, anyone?

top: Lili (@ Perth)

wedges: Bett’s (@ Perth)

capris: Osmose

handbag: Mollini’s (@ Perth)

earrings: Sportsgirl (@ Perth)

bracelet: vintage

shades: Mango

In the dead of the night as I start to plan my itinerary for my next vacation– in a month’s time, wheewy– I am itching to poof off overseas. I love to travel, what’s new. I reckon it’s the travel bug that’s bitten me and suffering from wanderlust is really bad when you love to shop and you’re a financially-impoverished student. Like the last time I went to Perth, I had a smashing time. I am itching, itching, itching for a vacation ahora mismo.

Do you like to scroll back or flip your albums of photos of really memorable times? I do that all the time, especially when I’m supposed to be studying for my papers. Time passes by so fast, many things feel just like yesterday. . Prior to about six months ago, I hardly took photos unless when traveling. Now, it’s become a really bad habit. Anyhows, these travel photos are too nice to be wasted.

So on the second last night, we were off to the casino. In Singapore, we have nada casinos, although two will be opening in a few years’ time. Actually, the only reason we headed there was because my cousin wanted to go for his regular spin at the slots and the tables, and was more than happy to show us around his turf. “Dress up”, he said, “We’re going to the International Room”. Which is like the VVVVVVIP room where the really rich and scarily avid gamblers place their extremely high stakes of hundreds of thousands. Amounts I can only dream of, for now. There, almost everybody reeks of wealth. You can even see some of those a-la the underworld gangster chiefs in the Hongkong flicks. Therefore, his sister dressed us up. She’s a really really really stylish girl and I think I owe it to her for unleashing my experimental side

Singapore isn’t the most bold and fashion fast-forward place. Sometimes you learn to dress in order to blend in and become invisible. And then what’s supposedly en-vogue is oft aped from one another, I sometimes wish we had the vibrant nature of London and Paris and New York. Actually, just most other countries. I wish to see more experimental people who aren’t afraid to dress the way they want to, who silence those ‘will others stare at me if I wear this (insert item)’ thoughts in their mind, and who can go, ‘heck it, I’ll just wear this‘. I wish more people wore high heels here, although there’s a real improvement in the numbers over the years

So, my cousin Mel has the prettiest wardrobe. Ever. It’s the best-est wardrobe I’ve ever seen. Because she’s a singer (and a really fab one) she gets to wear really beautiful clothes and dresses too. The one time I went shopping with her when she visited was one of the most fun shopping trips. The way her eyes shone as she picked this-and-that out, and uttered stuff like ‘this one can be worn here’, tweaking the conventionals off. Excitedly, she pulled out some dresses (most of which still had their tags on) and picked them out for us. Showed us her collection of the most awesome boots. Accessorized us. And bam. The one thing I like about her is how un-selfish she is. She’d happily lend us stuff, pass us stuff even if they were brand-new. That’s the style spirit I reckon. . to pass it on.

my uncle said, “Hey you can camouflage into this painting”, which was painted by Mel

and MQ camouflaged into this one

Because the VVVVVIP room means tons of access cards, many doors, tunnels and lists to sign in, the exclusivity translates to free drinks. People like me have no money to gamble amongst the killer whales. So my cousin MQ and I left my other cousin to prance around the tables as he threw his very huge stakes for the thrill of it. We sipped on our drinks and marveled in this world we don’t belong to. .

My background as a private sleuth allowed me to snap some very illegal photos. This room is so exclusive the no-photography rules are so strict. Ahh well. . I had to remember this night. It was one insane night of free money– “come on, go feed the machines with this, I’ve just changed another hundred bucks of coins for you” (so in the end I kept some of the money rather than waste it!)– free drinks, exclusivity, watching a man (my cousin) and his crazy Gambler’s Luck (prior to him I thought such things were fake, I thought all odds do not favor gamblers) and basically, insanity. From zipping into the hotel in his extremely cool convertible and having mad teenagers swarm all over us to walking into those ’secret chambers’ to getting hit on by some of the weirdest men ever (trust me, I’ve met really weird men, but these ones were weirder-er) and making all sorts of stories up.

We went in when it was all nice and dark. By the time we left, it was all sunny and bright. Goodness. And then Matt drove back for another round after dropping us off. .

MQ (the Chinese girl) is the cousin I grew up with. And then one day I discovered I have cousins all over the world. Who are of mixed blood and extremely gorgeous.

Like the first time I saw Mel, I was stunned. Wow, that’s my cousin?, I thought. I have angles in which I don’t exactly look Chinese because of some Peranakan blood in me (and God knows what else), but wow. Looking mixed is another thing altogether.

And then I met another cousin. Our grandmothers are sisters. I’m shellshocked. I’m having exotic kids in future, if I ever do have kids.

In response to a friend who insisted that I trek in 5-inch stiletto heels, I decided to document the evidence photographically. Just to show how ratty-tat I look.

Everytime I go monkey-watching, I have to trek into cordoned-off areas of the forest. The vegetation here is of tropical rainforest variety, which means dense leaf litter, obscenely huge leaves, monitor lizards crawling on the ground, thorns of about 8cm poking out of tree trunks, so much so you practically have to hack your way into certain areas. Some of the palms are so old and so large here– a rare find in my concrete jungle of an urban country– they’re about 1.5 meters in length. As I was joking with my research-mate, if the bloody leaf stalk fell on us, we’d be dead meat.

It is therefore no surprise that I show up in clothes I don’t really wear. Like the fisherman’s pants I bought when I was 15, the red mini-backpack I last wore when I was 12, and the Superstars which were my shoes in junior college. Today, though, I was fed up with the protocol of a long-sleeved tee. And being the girl who has no large t-shirts except for the hole-infested ones she wears to bed, I asked The Brother for his. And so, voila. An extremely unglamorous look. Hah.

A relatively new friend asked me “Just what the hell do you work as”, obviously confused because he says I seem to do a lot of jobs. And so I realized maybe that’s why my friends are always trying to squeeze the details on my schedules out of me. It got me thinking, just what the hell do I do.

Let’s see.

Once or twice a week I do field research on macaques. In part to watch their social exchange in the mating market. Also possibly for management plans to lessen the human-macaque conflict over here since certain residential areas are in breathing-close proximity to monkey territory.

If all goes well, I’ll be off to the zoo more than once a week to do my graduation project on social relationships in zebras. Starting August, I’m in my Honors year as a Psychology major, having completed my second major in Sociology. And then it’s post-grad here I come. .

Twice a week, I do cognitive neuropsychology-related research in my university. I get to write programs, design images for stimuli, conduct testing on people, etcetera on visual memory. At present, I’m working on my first paper for a conference. My only gripe is that it is all on Windows platforms. But because I’m traveling so far to school– a good one-hour-and-a-half commute– I might as well dress up. Which comes in handy because I normally meet people after that.

-in my lab-

Almost everyday, I tutor kids from 13 to 18 years old in their schoolwork and prepare them for their major examinations. Mostly for Cambridge’s O’Levels & A’Levels, but also for foreign english entrance examinations, the IB syllabus and Australian High School syllabus. It gets quite fun sometimes, because I get to help them with drama prep work, do some Mandarin-English translation, and exhibition-related project work. This is my primary source of income, and it pays well enough to keep me well-clothed and happy.

If that’s all I have for the day then this is where t-shirts, headbands and drainpipes come in.

On Saturday mornings, I counsel in the animal shelter and train new volunteers. Now, technically this is not work because I’m not paid for it, but because it de rigeur every weekend, it falls under ‘live to work’ rather than ‘work to live’.

Given the mandatory polo tee– thank Christ I can carry off red– all I get to is to vary my choice of shorts.

Once in a while, I do freelance makeup for people going for D&Ds and for proms.

Also, when recommended, I do makeovers and styling for people. From skincare to makeup to scents to the right undergarments to the right outerwear. And of course, tailors. Now, I can walk around in safety pins, but not these people. Just in case. I’m pretty good at male scents and male style. It’s the most fun. And it pays extremely well.

Although most of the time I love to make my family over, and then my friends always call me up, “P I need help with clothes!”

On most nights, I write, although not on this site. Sometimes I’m so acrid and go heavy-duty into political stuff it’s unwise for the general atmosphere here. Otherwise, I muse or swear too much. One day, I want to publish some academic stuff and a chick-lit number. I’ve had academicians express interest in future writing collaborations, so fingers crossed. All I have is my trusty ol’ MacBook, affectionately christened MacB. How uncreative. Bleah.

At a friend’s seaside home.

Sometimes I sketch. Nudes, fashion and interiors.

When the mood strikes I draw birthday cards for friends. I love receiving hand-drawn cards as well.

I used to give crash courses on the piano. But my piano’s damper pedal has spoilt. I’m dying for a baby grand, though. Donations to the Buy-P-a-Baby-Grand fund are now open.

this Steinway is gorgeous and to-die-for.

When I was 18, I worked as a private investigator for seven months, handling domestic and overseas cases. It was one of the most memorable times of my life, I call it my Sleuthing SpyGurl Days. Of course, everyone was extremely worried for me, but heck I’m still in one piece.

I ran that office and did its accounts system as well. I also did some lesson planning and relief teaching for a new program in my junior college after I completed my education there. And then I worked a while selling discount cards for a restaurant. I made quite a bit of money, but I felt guilty because advertising is a surefire way to trick people by creating imagined necessities.

And then most of the time– which arguably according to others, is little time left– I’m just me. Doing what I do, and being around those I love.

Like. .

1. Food. I delight in food. Here we had Middle Eastern cuisine, which I absolutely adore

My favorite M&S raspberry tartlets. It’s called Eating Air since it’s so light.

Trying to clean up my diet and ensure my 10th meal of the day is at least healthy.

And I love having (great) guests because then do I get to plan the entire dinner menu. From setting to food to cooking. Lovely. The rare occasions I become domestic.

2. Men. But their faces change.

3. Well, the occasional bit of time spent on shopping. .

4. Traveling. I try to fly at least once a year. For now, on a student’s budget.

5. buying textiles and designing my own clothes

6. reading till I get blinder and blinder. I love my bookpile, which is an entire wall of books all stacked up. I call it my Junkie Bookstore

7. loving my music. Bring it *all* on

8. loving my shoes

9. taking random shots

especially near sunset

10. capturing the full moon at 7 in the evening

11. some flower-lovin’, plucking them from my garden.

12. going for runs and capturing photographs

in essence, me. .

I am seriously dying for a gorgeous beach again. . The beaches in Singapore are fugly. This one in Langkawi was pristine and gorgeous

I love holidays. Some of the guys poke fun at me, saying it’s P’s Fashion Show Gone Overseas. Sometimes I can never understand how they fit everything in. Like this man I know who fits in three pairs of shoes and countless changes of clothes into a simple carry-all. It’s inhuman.

The only thing I grumble often about is the insanely high taxes that burgeon everytime you blink. What with security taxes, fuel taxes, etcetera. Advertisements on low fares should be shot down. They give one false hope. Not taking any handouts and then having an appetite for books and clothes, as well as the anal need to have some contingency stashes severely limits the frequency of my travels. Ahh well, at least I do have fun during my travels– which could be more often– and take pretty nice shots.

This one was taken in Phuket, where we had to dress down seriously, because we were going on some serious budget-shopping and a bargaining extravaganza over at Patong Beach.

I used to have a phobia of dressing down, thinking I’d look terrible. But this proved me wrong. I actually do like to dress-down. Ironical, ain’t it.

I was over at Swan Valley, WA, touring the wineries, smelling the flowers and essentially having a relaxed time, amongst a riotous bloom of colors.

jacket: my cousin’s
top: Topshop
capris: Zara
shoes: Pazzion
shades: Mango
ring: gift