Rag week

One thing about getting dumped is that it really does a number on your self-esteem, particularly if there is no ostensible reason for the break up.  

I've never had the best esteem to start with, but I'm pretty good at faking it.  After all, you have to be thick-skinned to have once started a blog about what you wear every day and even more thick skinned to have told people about it.  I don't actually like being in front of the camera a whole lot, but my love of clothes and my interest in dressing better overcame that.  A hugely healthy sense of humour helps.

After the breakup though, I sometimes struggle to feel good about myself or see the humour in things.  I won't lie, I strut through life a lot and people don't realise how affected I am, but large chunks of my day are devoted to an internal monologue along the lines of "What the fuck is wrong with me?".  I'm trying to accept this as part of the healing process and just get on with life.  

It sounds completely frivolous but feeling good in your clothes can be a real boost to your self esteem.  It's not even about fancy clothes or new rags.  It's the difference between lying in bed and crying (which let's face it, I've done my fair share of) and putting on some fabulous armour and blazing out the door and through the day.  

In the spirit of blazing through the week, I took pictures of everything I wore this week to make sure that it was at least semi-presentable and I could go to work with my head held high.  And what d'ya know, I felt better almost instantly.

Last Sunday, I promised my students I would wear my Iron Maiden shirt (I'm quite a big fan) and attempted to make it more formal with a lace blazer, my H and M chinos and Timberland loafers.  Feeling guilty about looking so casual, I slunk around a bit, but then one of the senior teachers stopped me in the corridor and said, "Your outfit is so cute", and I calmed down.

I went Diptic crazy on Christmas Eve - I'd privately agreed with my friends that we'd dress festively for work, so I broke out my pink/red cropped pants from Uniqlo.  The earrings were a present from Becky and have little paintings of birds in them.  So cute!  Balto the sock monkey came with me to class for show and tell.

An overcast Christmas day with wellies, a hooded dress and a gingerbread man my mother got me for my birthday.  (That's me going nuts over the Christmas fern if you can't tell.)

Wednesday was a long day and I was still half asleep in the morning so I just grabbed the zebra shirt off the top of the pile and spent the rest of the day lying low.  The students liked it though.  Those are the same H and M chinos I wore on Sunday, yes.  I have a couple of pairs in different colours and rotate them a lot.  They're functional, super comfortable for bending and tiptoeing and relatively work-worthy.  Plus they cost less than $30.

On Thursday, the last official day of my work week, I went with a maxi dress, see-through sweater and the Zoroastrian farvahar David got me when he was travelling.  I'm not a religious person but I don't mind wearing religious symbols when they come from people with a lot of love and good wishes for protection.  After all, love is the basis of all great religions and something all humans subscribe to.

I do a lot of this cosy sweater over other less cosy stuff thing because the office can be freezing.

And yesterday, I wore this when we went out to watch Les Mis (which I think was hit and miss).  I'm very much a jeans and t-shirt girl and if I could wear them 90 per cent of the time, I would.  I get a lot of flak from people (particularly those in my parents' generation) for wearing these ripped knees and they do look a bit silly but they are so comfortable that they are my go-to jeans.  The wash has long since faded from blue to almost white, the little tears have become huge holes and the fabric is soft and breathes and makes it easy for me to bend and kneel.

I attempted to dress them up a bit with tomato red heels and my beloved LV bag.

Now, we're back at Saturday and I'm about to commence doing some work at the kitchen table in some very unglamorous sweats and a loose cotton tee.  You know.  Because I can.

Smizing for Christmas

On Christmas morning, I met up with my friend Mel, in blue, (I know so many Mels, we call this one "Niño" though explaining how she got the nickname will take at least two days) for brunch at the Swiss Bakeri.  Her family was on holiday and so we decided to spend the morning giggling over rosti and sausages.

We'd initially planned to just chill out, but then Amanda, who lives in the area, called us and came over with her boyfriend, Ben, for a short while to say hi. 

She brought us cupcakes from the old school local bakery, Chin Mee Chin.  Thanks Amanda!  Pictured here with my slouchy hobo bag (an awesome gift from a student) and Niño's matching blue wristlet.  

We sat in the cafe and chatted like adults for a little while, but as is so often the case with friends, it degenerated into shenanigans when we discovered a pleasantly painted alleyway just outside.  

"Asia's Next Top Model!" Amanda cried, for we'd all recently been discussing that train wreck, and Niño agreed.  

"Let's do that picture that they all take at the start," she began, and I immediately finished:

"Oh oh, where they disappear one by one as they get kicked out?" 

We started laughing and Ben very gamely took our pictures, from this one:

After which we decided we should make better use of "levels", to this one:

"Look into the future," I instructed on one, as Amanda and Niño struggled to get their laughter under control and squint out-of-frame.

And, "I'm trying to smile with my eyes," Amanda said through gritted teeth in one shot, prompting us all into a giggling fit, and even though the "model" pictures looked like this:

The aftermath was actually more like this:

All in, it was hilarious laughing in the alleyway and sending texts among our bigger Whatsapp group of friends afterwards, peppered with "quotes" like, "I'm not here to make friends!", "All this pressure is really getting to me, the other girls ganged up on me last night." or, "The judges need to deliberate".

On the home front, Retno decided to take matters into her own hands and secretly made a Christmas fern with little paper and straw baubles.  It was most excellent, and for once my father couldn't freak out over having a tree this year.

We duly put all her presents under it.

I guess what I'm trying to say through all these convoluted and grammatically incorrect sentences is that I'm so grateful to have friends this sporting, who also understand the delightfully frivolous value of trashy reality TV.  I'm grateful for my family because they bring the cheer all year round (if a bit erratically) and I hope that everyone out there is with loved ones this holiday season.

Here's lookin' into your future, kids.

Just a little bedtime reading

The best things

Earlier this month, things seemed a little dreary for my group of friends in the office, so I suggested gearing up for a secret santa swap.  We enjoyed a half day of work today and when I got back to my desk after giggling with my students, I found a present from my secret santa waiting on my table and was giddy with delight.

Thank you Lynette, I absolutely love it!  We drink lots of Starbucks coffee between us, so we call ourselves the Bucks Buddies and she knows Starbies is my Holy Land.  On top of that, when the Christmas merchandise came out this year, we pored over the catalogue and Lynette must have remembered me cooing over this sweet mug.  I think the tail-as-handle is such a cool idea and I can't wait to brew a hot cup of tea in it. 

Last night, as we were clearing up the room that my brothers share, we also found this huge plastic lens-looking thing that didn't seem to have the weight of an actual camera attachment.  When I found out it was a mug, I went into paroxysms of joy.  HS (practically a professional photographer) probably forgot to pack this awesome present from his friend, so I'm claiming it as mine, along with the discounted Christmas blend I bought from my second home the other day.

I don't know who you are, friend, but thank you for finding my brother such a thoughtful gift!

Before I go, I just wanted to do a little free advertising for Diptic (which I used to make the circular image above).  I first paid for the Diptic app a few months ago so that I could collage some pictures.  It served my purposes but wasn't really anything to write home about.  

Over the most recent free upgrade, however, something wonderful happened and there were suddenly literally hundreds of frame shapes, configurations and customisations to choose from!  You can now use all kinds of crazy collage shapes (including some hideous heart ones that I have a feeling some girls will love) and beyond that, you can actually move each individual line within the frame to curve it and make single windows bigger, smaller, or more triangular shaped.

It is actually pretty incredible.  Here's an example of some new frame shapes below, some of which are downright bizarre.  I can't really see myself using the one with the illuminatiesque circle and triangle or the shocked face, but hey, it's never a bad thing to be spoilt for choice.  

The borders are also now completely customisable - you can round the corners, change the joints, make the lines thicker, change colours and now, incredibly, add texture on top of the colour you've chosen so your frame gets cute polka dots or hipster chevron stripes.

I wanted to share this because I've never been so pleasantly surprised by an update before and Diptic has gone from being an average app that I reluctantly shelled out a couple dollars for to being completely worth the money.  I forsee hours of collaging madness on trains and buses!

FYI - I had a minor heart attack when I saw how grainy the programme was making my photos, but don't worry, that's just how it looks before the collage is saved. 

All right, enough rambling.  I'm off to spend Christmas Eve in my PJs watching Japanese anime with my mother and drinking from my new cup(s)!

Happy Holidays and tonight, I hope your troubles are few.

Gumdrops

One of the best things about being the only daughter in my family is that all my mother's feminine ventures come to me.  This time, she came back from Melbourne with some beautiful costume earrings that are very reminiscent of sweets.  I love them!

They're from Forever New - I think there's an outlet in Singapore - and are a lot less heavy than similar pieces that I've seen.

Worn with my double eagle shirt from Cotton On (I bought it because it was cheesy and made Tabby and I laugh), DIY cutoffs (see the dangling thread?), magenta Topshop tights, Fossil Watch and B.U.M equipment sneakers.

I took my outfit to a Christmas gathering at my cool friend Wei Jing's (and her husband Leong's) house where I reunited with Mel, Jack and Jonathan.  The last time we came over, we gorged on hawker food.  This time, the spread was a little more refined but no less delicious.  I also attempted pictures:

I started off a little tired, but the night of warm catching up really perked me up.  It's so funny to think how far we've come - we knew Wei Jing way before she even started dating Leong and now they've built a beautiful home together.  

There is nothing quite like old friends.

And as usual, nothing normal about this gang.

The pen is mightier

A impromptu Friday dinner with my friend Dhany at a tze char place (mmm, marmite ribs) turned into an impromptu trip to Mustafa in the middle of the night.

I'd mentioned that I wanted to look at some stationery but that Popular was closed, and he suggested going down to Serangoon Road to look at what the selection was like.  (Dhany was just pretending to be serious.  He is normally the guardian of funny faces).

I was wearing a loose striped batwing type number with my new Casio watch (looks like something James Bond would wear and has exciting flashing lights and four time zones, all for $62) and my fleur-de-lis ring.  I bought the ring several years ago and then it got swallowed up by the messy depths of Dhany's room (he wanted to wear it as a pinky ring, don't ask) until last night.  

As you can probably tell, writing is important to me and I've kept a hard copy journal since I was 12.  My current journal is a cheap A5 sketchbook and I'd been wondering how to make it look a little prettier.  I'd tried a few types of markers, but everything seemed too dark and bold for the style I was attempting and after I purchased my Mildliners, I realised that I was actually looking for markers in lighter, pastel tones.

It's hard to find marker sets that only include pastel tones and that won't bleed through all kinds of paper, so I decided to put my own kit together.

From left to right: Clean Color double-sided markers in muted colours (I love these because the wash on the lighter ones is fairly gentle but also quite buildable), Lyra coloured pencils, Micron 0.05 waterproof pens, Sakura Tiara pens, pastel Post-its with sweet patterns.

I have to talk about the Micron pens for a second.  Hitherto, I've always used the Uniball Signo 0.28 or 0.38 pens because the line is so fine and they are the only other pen that I've found to be waterproof.  But these Microns really give them a run for their money.  If you like fine nibs and you've never written with a 0.05mm before, please, try it. Even Dhany was shocked at how sensitive and controlled they felt.

There is something wonderful about being able to make tiny drawings with loads more detail than you would normally be able to get in.  Admittedly, they don't write as smoothly and they can blot a bit on thirsty paper, so I won't use them for quick writing or work, but I think for journalling purposes, they'll do just fine.

Writing in a journal helps calm me and give me perspective on things, to say nothing of how well it works as a memory keeper of sorts.  If you'd like to start, or haven't been able to continue, spending a bit on awesome stationery like this can give you a bit of a boost.

I'll leave you with this really cool video that I watched yesterday.  I'm not sure Smashbooks would be my thing because I'm very writey as opposed to picture-sticky, but I can imagine that lots of people will enjoy them, and they look to be convenient and loads of fun!  (Available online)

Quickie

Things I've been loving recently:

Christmas lights in the area where I work (and practising my bokeh).

Floaty, gauzy layers in contrast with sunny printed fabrics.

Neon accessories (and dog fur). 

The awesome moving installation in Terminal 1 at Changi.

My new bedtime reading, which is simultaneously creepy and wondrous.

You have no idea how hard it is to find a catch-all book about roaches, but this pretty much sold me when I saw the illustration on the following page:

The long weekend

I managed to have a bit of relax at last this weekend.

Because the 'rents are away, David came over to keep company and we held a swell movie marathon.  The choices were well-thought out and cleverly scheduled, even if I may say so myself.

We started with The Sting which was surprisingly more light and funny than I expected it to be, then went on to Persepolis because David is deeply interested in the Middle East.

And last, of course, my obligatory Christmas favourite: The Nightmare Before Christmas.  I watch it every single year and even have all the movements down.  It has delightful music, the stop-motion is charming and unusual and it is peppered with tiny jokes and amusements - perfect if you want something festive but not saccharine.

A few things I've learnt about a successful movie marathon:

1)  It's vital that everything isn't cloying since you're going to be watching for ages, from the combination of the movies to the snacks of choice.  Ours was a very sophisticated prawn keropok and spicy sauce.

2)  The order of the movies is as important as the movies you pick - it's important that the more difficult movies go first for prime concentration.

3)  It's good to get out of the house in the middle, particularly for a Starbucks Christmas Coffee run.

4)  A Lord of the Rings marathon does no one any favours.  I can't count the number of times I've stared my way through Helm's Deep.

5)  Choice of companion is also important.  You've both got to love ploughing through arthouse movies or have the same fondness for three hours of Schindler's List. 

6)  If you're going to be watching a movie marathon with me on the other hand, a tolerance for loud singing, violent arm movements and light conversation is essential.  

Flat

Last night, Mel and I decided that we would go to Mustafa to do some late night shopping.  Let me wax lyrical about Mustafa for a moment.  

Despite the fact that it has been in Singapore for years now, I think there are still some who cannot fathom the brilliance that is Mustafa Shopping Centre.  For starters, some people are frightened at the prospect of Little India.  I remember once bringing a pair of non-Desi friends there.  They clutched desperately at each other at the sight of so many Indians and refused to wander out of my sight even though I'm mixed meself (cue heavy eyerolls).  

I have been to many places - to Tesco and Costco and Carrefour and Giant and K-Mart and Target - and even though I've enjoyed them all, none of them has been able to live up to the departmental store right at my doorstep.

If you've never been there, Mustafa is basically a twenty-four hour shopping centre that sells everything.  And I mean everything.  It is four or five stories high, comprises three buildings connected by bridges and underpasses and even has duplicate stalls scattered throughout the store just in case you miss something.  It has its own travel agency and hotel.  The store interior is so crammed that it has been shut down for being a fire hazard several times. 

There are at least twenty rows of just soap and shampoo.  Ten rows of vitamins.  A make up selection to rival Sephora.  Three whole rows dedicated to deodorant.  The shelf of spices is longer than my house.  The luggage section sells everything from Samsonite to Camel to American Tourister products, but at a lower price.  Crocs that cost $70 in the shoe shop cost $50 here. 

Like any self-respecting supermarket, it has a fresh baked goods section but on top of that, also a section selling plants, a mini bookstore and an entire floor dedicated to electronics (home of Big, my camera).  The gold section is larger than any jewellery store that I've ever been in (though most of the pieces wouldn't look out of place in a temple) and don't even get me started on the floors for clothes, sporting goods and homeware.  And when you emerge with your plastic tie-bound bags, there is dosai and chai masala waiting on every corner.

It is quite simply, the best place I've ever shopped at.

You can't quite appreciate the wonder of Mustafa until you visit it yourself.  Every time I go there, I see the same thing - a tourist staring round in glazed wonder and saying, "My god, this place is insane," and his local friend exasperatedly replying, "I told you.  They sell everything." 

"How can people not like Mustafa?" Mel texted me yesterday.

"I wonder if it's a racist thing," I smsed back. 

We arranged to go late at night to avoid the crowd and headed for tze char beforehand.  When we finally rolled into the car, fully stuffed, I eagerly pulled out of the parking space... to a horrendous grinding sound.

"What was that?" Mel looked alarmed.

I already had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I stepped out to take a look anyway.

WELL.

I know how to change a tire.  In theory.  I've never actually had to do it before and of all times for this to happen, when my parents were out of town.  We inspected the damage for a minute then decided that we were going to attempt changing it ourselves.

I literally rolled up my sleeves and retrieved a set of intruments, sans jack, from that boot, but they looked like they were meant to open wine bottles.  After poking them ineffectually at the flat, I decided to change tacks and looked for the manual instead. 

We found the jack under one of the seats eventually and all systems were go.  Mel read from the manual while I attempted to carry out all the instructions.  Except that she kept getting lost, and I had no idea what some of the things meant.

"Unscrew the cap and take out the spare," she read.

I did it and held it up to my chest huffing and staggering.  "Then?  Quick, Smelly, then?!"

"I..." Mel scanned the booklet frantically.  "Where are we?"

"Smelly!"

Eventually, sweating and clawing, we got the spare round the front and decided to go ahead even though we had nothing to chock the flat.  We jacked up the car and even loosened the nuts of the flat with great difficulty.  At one point I tapped the spare and wondered out loud if the tire pressure would be okay.

Mel gave me a despairing look, pointed at the flat and yelled, "It has to be better than that, right?" which sent us into ten minutes of hysterical howling on the carpark floor.

As we were about to swap the wheels, it suddenly occurred to me that I was not very strong.  I'd literally had to stand on the nuts to loosen them and even if I did change the wheel, I wasn't sure I was strong enough to screw the nuts tightly back in in the opposite direction.  A horrifying vision came to me, of driving at 80 and the tire flying off on the ECP.

"Um... Smells?"

Several dollars later, we were safely ensconced in a tow truck, on the way to a tire shop.

We made it to Mustafa eventually.  Mel bought something like a thousand dollars worth of toiletries while I went round snapping photos.

Part of the electronics section that sells tablets, computers, cameras, lenses, filters and anything else you can think of.

Can you believe they have such adorable shoes for $16.50?  If you just hunt, there are some gems out there.

Bits of the never ending toiletries section where we got lost for an hour.  Anyone remember the Impulse brand of body spray from school days?  We used to spray the vanilla scent in the classroom and everyone thought there was baking downstairs.

Endless walls of makeup and perfume.  The sections are so huge I simply can't get them all in view, so these photos feel a little bit futile because they look like any other store.

And the all important Victoria's Secret section, where everything goes for $16 - $5 cheaper than the store in Marina Bay.  Delicious.

Of course, I didn't leave empty-handed either.   

The awesome B.U.M equipment Converse lookalikes were $20!  I wish I'd bought another pair.

By the time I got home, it was almost two in the morning.

I was a little sleepy driving, but trust me, the repeated thoughts of tires flying off kept me wide awake.