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Sunnies – Celine via SmartBuyGlasses. Watch – Larsson & Jennings. Envelope clutch – Sezane. Wallet – Prada. Serum – Innisfree. Necklace – Louis Vuitton. Scarf – MiH.

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Top – Paule Ka. Culotes – Charlie May. Bag – Marni. Sunnies – Celine via SmartBuyGlasses.

Current location: Seoul, South Korea. Time-zone: Galaxy far far away, corner of Asgard and one stop before Uranus. My body does not comprehend the blue tint of dusk creeping through the blinds at the wee hours of the morning and sends out a confusing bodily signals including but not limited to: pang of hunger, a need-to-pee, PMS, utter exhaustion and insomnia (at the same time), and demands that I do something about it. In return, I do what I usually do when faced with jetlag: eat something questionable out of my Airbnb host’s fridge, entangle within a duvet and find a TV shopping channel sufficiently entertaining enough to sap the last of energy. The effect is sublime – I arrived on Thursday and woke up on Monday morning ,feeling brand spankin’ new.

Problem is, I still don’t know what time it is. Imma go pee.

Journey to
the
ends
of the world

I am a 90‘s kid. What this means is that my primary excitement in life usually consisted of some form of waiting or another, be it in the 3-page hand-written letters from a pen-pal in Japan, or sighting my favourite song on MTV. If you too are a 90‘s kid you will have sung the anthem of the modem connecting to 56kbps, and understand why the PC had to be left on overnight for a flick to download. Joking aside (at arm‘s reach though), with the rise of insta-everything and deliver-yesterday convenience, we are forgetting about this glorious thing called patience, and the stories that happen while you wait.

You all know my thoughts towards the brands I like to work with, they have one thing in common: the value of patience; of travelling to the ends of the earth to obtain only the best ingredients – ingredients not available on Amazon Prime that‘s for certain – and treating with care and respect. Bombay Sapphire is one of those companies: full of character, story and passion – all bottled up in layers of flavour, into a clean London Dry Gin. So, here‘s a visual collection of stories that make up the notes in the Star of Bombay, shot in my local tropics, Kew Gardens.

And of course, drink responsively.

Created for
Bombay Sapphire

Top – Regina Pyo. Belt – Stella McCartney. Trousers – Wilson PK

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Star of Bombay is created with two new botanicals, Bergamot Peels and Ambrette Seeds – elevating the exceptional balance of Bombay Sapphire and taking the CAPTIVATING FLAVOUR of London Dry Gin to a new dimension
Above: Top – Stella McCartney via Harvey Nichols. This photo: Top – Charlie May. Dress – Tata Naka.

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a complexity that feels more like an aged spirit

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Composed of intrinsic LAYERS OF FLAVOUR, Star of Bombay is produced in very SMALL BATCHES, entirely at Laverstoke Mill in England using a unique craft process

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Dress – Marques’Almeida via Harvey Nichols. Jeans – ASOS. Sleeveless Polo-neck – x. Shoes – Coach. Earrings – Maria Black.

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Top – Regina Pyo. Suede skirt – American Apparel. Culottes – Tata Naka

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From the sunsets of Morocco to the blistering volcanoes in Java, EXOTIC INGREDIENTS are sourced from the ends of the world to create the clean notes
Dress – PYRUS. Coat – Emilia Wickstead via Harvey Nichols. Culottes - Reiss. Shoes – Coach. Earring – Maria Black.

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art direction SHINI PARK studio makeup VANESSA VU styling and photo assistance SIMON SCHMIDT

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Hello, I’m here to fix your boiler…

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I am a strong believer that when it comes to cities, especially of those ‘home’ variety for individuals who – like me – have confusing heritage, it’s all about spicing things up in the bedroom, so to speak. And for this I wholeheartedly recommend roleplaying: sexy nurse, keen repairman, bored prison guard… whatever floats your boat (enthusiastic Pokémon trainer for me), but the trick is to live, experience and interact with your city from a slightly different perspective, different lifestyle. Rent an inexpensive car for a few days instead of taking public transport, wear a suit every day for no reason, shop like a local, walk like a tourist, book an Airbnb flat in a high-rise and wake up to sunrise on the 20th floor… Enjoy wider horizons but also encounter new limitations. Yes I’m aware this sounds like a page out of a self-help book, but I promise, IT’S SEXY WHEN YOU’RE DOING IT RIGHT. I’d like to think that this is how London and I keep a healthy relationship, even if I have to ask for a hall pass every now and again.

Seoul, for me, is one of those ‘home’ cities – despite never having lived there and a place I still consider an exciting, unmapped territory, I can’t help that on the rare occasion I do visit I slink into an oddly familiar routine that one would typically expect from a local. Now, this isn’t to say that I know my way around the back streets of Gangnam or the best way to haggle over a kilo of spinach with the lady in the market (why does one need kilo of spinach anyway), but it is the inevitable nature of: I seem to blend in with my own people? Last April, brought over by work, I was determined to spice it up – and instead of going straight to one of my relatives, booked two nights at the Conrad hotel on Yeuido island – the city’s business and banking district and also home to the most spectacular cherry blossom festival.

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Bag – Celine. Shoes – Aquazzura ‘Christy’

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Watch – Larsson & Jennings ‘Saxon’. Necklace – Effra London

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The hotel, while stunning in design and efficient in service, is undeniably oriented towards business purposes, which is exactly what I’d wanted. I woke up early and mingled with the suited men at breakfast, read the cartoon page off the International New York Times with my glasses perched low on my nose, and abused the concierge app to book wake-up calls but snoozed through the morning. In the afternoon, I took walks through the cherry blossom festival and bought street food, which I smuggled back into my room. And on the last day, I took a friend and snuck into a local public school’s sports field and we spent the afternoon on the bleachers imagining life as a Korean high-schooler. It was love rekindled, and so far away from the Seoul that I got too easily accustomed to. Next time, I’m booking a helicopter ride and borrowing a dog. Now tell me that’s not some power couple’s therapy.

A big thank you to Conrad Seoul for the kind hospitality.

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Sweater – Isabel Marant. Trunk bag – Marni. Denim culottes – Charlie May. Heels – Gianvito Rossi

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Bag – Coccinelle

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With every passing season it seems more and more apparent that I approach Fashion Week dressing exactly like how I prepared for my GCSE’s: Revise the crap out of the first exam on schedule (history), and then sob through the rest, cramming two years’ worth of curriculum every night before exams while simultaneously replacing water with Red Bull in my circulatory system. Fast forward about ten years later – same drill, different liquids. If ya know what I mean.

Here’s sort of a play-by-play:

All photo assistance by Simon Schmidt.

London fashion week
Day One
Confident. Prepared. Even bothered to wrestle with the printer to have the day’s itinerary at hand. Memorized the show schedule to the tune of Family Guy opening song. Three look changes neatly folded in the trunk with one to spare, we’re shooting a video throughout the day and the Hyundai Santa Fe is my changing room on wheels again. Windows not tinted dark enough but it’s Day One and I’m pumped.

Coat – Charlie May. Faux-fur stole – ASOS. Skirt – Joseph. Boots – Stuart Weitzman. Top – Zara.

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London fashion week
Day Two
Early start, breakfast in the car. Make-up completion level: 8/10. Pret plastic spoon in one hand, eyeliner in another, someone’s eating granola with an eyeliner again today… Balancing on 4-inch heels and feeling like I’m up to some good. Promises self to go home and blog everything I’ve seen today.

Cropped-trench – Reiss. Jeans – Levi’s CT. Heels – Gianvito Rossi. Dress – Razan Alazzuoni. Bag – Louis Vuitton.

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London fashion week
Day Three
Hummed tune to Family Guy over breakfast and only managed to sing ‘sex on TV’ bit correctly. No idea what’s happening today, fingers crossed assistant knows. Wearing trainers in case there’s some running involved. Ran to the loo in McDonald’s between Topshop and Paul Smith.

Sweater – Isabel Marant. Jeans – Topshop. Bag – Marni. Scarf – Acne ‘Canada’

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London fashion week
Day Four
Stuck a hand inside the khaki side of the wardrobe and pulled out outfit at the peak of desperation. Figured you can never go wrong with khaki, except maybe looking like a farmer a little. Coccinelle bag surprisingly roomy and fits camera et al. Scooore.

Quilted Jacket – Barbour. Denim jacket – Levi’s. Belt – Vintage Louis Vuitton. Culottes – Topshop. Bag – Coccinelle. Fedora – Hoss Intropia
Coccinelle
Top Handle, snakeskin effect

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London fashion week
Day Five
Peeled out layers from the laundry basket, ended up looking (and smelling) like a college student. Not sure what fashion even is anymore. Tommy, can you smell me? Turns out wearing everyday clothes = higher productivity level. No actual work done, but somehow managed to deplete phone battery by noon. Added this skill into CV with remaining 1%.

Bag – Aspinal. Jeans – Levi’s CT CT. Top & Blazer – POLO Ralph Lauren.

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Bag – Marni. Perfume – Jersey by Chanel. Key clip - Whistles x Moxham. Coin pouch – gift from mum.

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Coat – Charlie May. Cashmere sweater – Uniqlo. Trousers – Zara. Heels - Gianvito Rossi. Bag – Marni. Earrings – Dior. Watch – Larsson & Jennings.  Necklaces – Monica Vinader.

Numbered are the days I will be able to rely on the blinding morning sunlight as a slap on the face and get out of bed like a normal human being. Cue what I call the spinning beachball of death syndrome, wherein I try to convince myself, way past the 14th snooze, that life does exist outside the micro-climate that is under my duvet. The clocks went back over the weekend and we had one of the most beautiful Sundays I’d seen in a while. I hit the flower market, prepared it’d be my last this year, and bought a bunch of dahlia’s for a tenner. By the afternoon I had managed to cross town to the V&A, wilting flowers in tow, which only confirmed the power of weather-influenced stamina, one that we were about to be deprived of, shortly.

Alas, the season of overpriced eggs benedict breakfasts ‘at that hipster place’ for the sake of a sunny morning is coming to an end. That, and a run around the block at random times in the day (because the weather is nice), which ultimately does nothing, really, for your diet. Try running on a morning that looks like stupid-o’clock in mid-November, then you can put ‘jogger’ back on your Facebook profile. My personal challenge is getting up at 7am this quarter, and limiting longing looks towards the bed down to one hour. What’s yours?

Photos with Mr. Tripod