I've moved on...
...to a different domain. Why, what were you thinking? The truth is, I just woke up one day and decided it's time for a change—a metamorphosis, if you will; or, in layman's terms, if Britney can shave her head, then maybe so can I? Nevertheless, it's been a rather handsome 10 years of talking to you, and thank you for putting up with all my moodswings and terrible dad jokes. Fear not! The hormonal imbalance and jokes are more terrible on CUBICLE, see you there.
photography SHINI PARK
styling SIMON SCHMIDT
production CUBE COLLECTIVE

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Created for
Tu Clothing

I’ve been nursing a serious case of ennui in the form of a writer’s block for the better half of the past year – and yes I know, one needs to be a writer to have ‘writer’s block’ (does Ex-blogger-slash-self-proclaimed-CEO-of-Internet Block go down better?). Articles here are usually fuelled by what I’m sure is an illegal amount of caffeine and a cursory re-reading of the ENTIRE blog archive*; mostly to spark any sort of desperate magic that places words onto paper, but also to remind my jaded self of the joy and elation I once used to feel when sharing my thoughts online, way back when. i.e Before the Insta-era, when success wasn’t measured in crude numbers and product placement was as organic as

free-range Alpine cows that donated milk out of generosity for humankind.

Something else dissolves my ennui – or Nonplussitude (what did we end up calling this?) – this time around; the days are warmer, and it is Graduate Fashion Week season after all. Seeing as I’m not allowed within 500ft of a school, this is probably also the next best thing to being near young talent.

I’M KIDDING.

*It’s a faaaairly effective technique in that I can probably write 150 words after about six hours of reading, which means to write one full article I will have needed to seek apprenticeship in a dusty monastery in the Himalayan foothills or frickin’ Kamar-Taj under Benedict Cucumberpatch.
Also, in November 2018 we hit the 10 year anniversary, after which point I can quite confidently say I’ve written enough words to warrant a phD, yes/no?

Young talent is de facto the new definition of the Rock & Roll attitude.

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…to celebrate youth, tenacity and charisma!

I do relish sounding like a Dementor though. It’s not enough that I shroud myself in under-25yo employees (not only because I see promising futures in each of their sparkling eyeballs but because their electric enthusiasm gives me vitality like a Pret A Manger ginger shot), I just love the idea of being an all-black, cloaked, flying figure. CHIC!
Young talent is de facto the new definition of the Rock & Roll attitude. The rockstar confidence of the two 2018 Tu scholarship graduate collection winners, Amy Vanderwal (menswear) and Laura Gillings (womenswear), inspires this second story we shot for Tu Clothing, that seeks to celebrate youth, tenacity and charisma.

…androgynous tailoring as shared between the Rolling Stones and their girlfriends.
Kaia wears: GFW Striped blazer & trousers – Tu Clothing. Boots – Coach. Hat – Vintage.
Maria wears: GFW Dress – Tu Clothing.

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Vanderwall [menswear] takes inspiration from punk, Vivienne Westwood and The New Gypsies

Riley wears: GFW Striped t-shirt, Tartan shirt, GFW denim shorts – Tu Clothing.

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Both collections speak in volumes, with bold, clashing prints and silhouettes as if rebelling against conformity (equivalent to me throwing an impromptu gel manicure appointment curveball at the overpacked Google Calendar). Last year saw Genevieve Devine and her embellished twist to historic workwear. This year, Vanderwal, mentored by Oliver Spencer, takes inspiration from punk, Vivienne Westwood and The New Gypsies; while Gillings, mentored by Henry Holland, delve into lush androgynous tailoring as shared between the Rolling Stones and their girlfriends.

Finally, as per legends of Rock & Roll and cult followers, this is also a story of thick-as-blood friendships and impenetrable creative community of young talent. Plus, a friendly price-point that rocks all our worlds.

Ruffle sleeve stripe blouse, Ruffle Hem Slim TrouserTu Clothing

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Faja (left) wears: GFW Ruffle Sleeve Stripe Dress. Maria (right) wears: GFW Stripe Overlay Tunic – Tu Clothing.

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production ELLEN LI
models FAJA EICKHOFF (NEXT), MARIE M (WILHEMINA). RILEY REES (HMG MODELS).
hair & makeup AGA DOBOSZ (CAROL HAYES)
lighting technician NATHAN SCOTT
runner ZANA WILBERFORCE
runner VALENTINA STANDHARTINGER

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Created for
Tu Clothing

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direction SHINI PARK photo assistance SIMON SCHMIDT in collaboration with COACH

Vest – Coach 1941 PreFall16. Bag – Coach ‘Rogue’. Suede top – Gestuz. Skirt – Kenzo. Shoes – Kurt Geiger.

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All – Coach 1941 PreFall16

HOW IS IT ALREADY JULY? It’s like someone forgot to un-press the 2x Fast Forward toggle on Sims and not only have I slept through the night really quickly but I’ve reached level 10 in Charisma skills by talking to myself in the mirror for 13 Sim-hours in a puddle of my own piss, and then gotten to third base with the cleaning lady. (Sidenote: if you’ve never played Sims this may possibly be the most awkward paragraph you’d read on the internet ever.) Moral of the story is, where is time going? (and, for the love of God, press pause if you’re going AFK)

Weren’t we nursing fashion month blisters just the other day? And I don’t know about you, but my Spring Clean is still on snooze, it has been since March. Perhaps the one good thing about being more than halfway done with a year-that-I-still-looks-like-20156 is the Pre-Fall collections, and as always – Coach 1941 do not disappoint. The glove-tanned Rogue is my new beau, and khaki because I suspect that good weather in the UK have most definitely progressed with #Brexit.

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above: jacket VARSITY JACKET dress PATCHWORK bag GLOVETANNED ROGUE. left: dress SILK T-SHIRT DRESS; ALL BY COACH

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All – Coach 1941 PreFall16

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Coat – Stylenanda. Ruffle top – ASOS. Satchel – Disney x Coach 1941

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direction SHINI PARK photo assistance SIMON SCHMIDT in collaboration with COACH

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We all love a good American union: Brad and Angelina (Brad and Jennifer, if you like), Facebook and Instagram, fried chicken on waffle (has anyone tried Oreo with Sunny D because MIND BLOWN) and this is no exception. If anything this one puts me straight back into DPA* meetings because I’ve once again burst out in song in the middle of the road and pissed off my parole officer. 0 Days since last Colours of the Wind. Two icons join hands under one limited-edition collection: Coach, who celebrate their 75th anniversary this year, and the mascot of pop culture – Disney’s Mickey Mouse, who is basically my soul animal (high-waisted red shorts with white gloves and a mischievous grin go hand-in-hand). Watch me replace the husband’s protein powder stash with Nesquik this summer.

*Disney Princesses Anonymous, in which I am the token Asian girl that is always expected to sing My Reflection.

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…Mickey Mouse, who is basically my soul animal (high-waisted red shorts with white gloves and a mischievous grin go hand-in-hand)

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Top & jeans – Stylenanda. Shoes – Kurt Geiger. Pouch – Disney x Coach 1941

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Created for
Moët & Chandon

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The thing about being a crippling introvert, especially when your two out of three words in your unofficial (cringe) job title is ‘social’ and ‘influencer’ (heck even ‘media’ is a plural, SAVE ME), is that you don’t really have friends. By friends I don’t mean the people you hang out with because they look good on your Instagram feed (same logic applies to ordering photogenic food that you hate eating, like muesli – what am I, a bird?), it’s people who actually listen to your nerdery (?), like explaining the difference between Windows 8 and Windows 10 (and why there is no Windows 9* **).

This very blog is the realization that, for the past seven-going-on-eight years, I’ve been looking inwards and playing in front of the looking glass. And for the better half of said eight years, my £19 tripod was a pretty good pal until the day it chucked my (thankfully inexpensive) camera down on the asphalt outside the house, blurted ‘DONE WITH THIS SH*T’ and hobbled off, three legs and all. I knew I had to find some real friends then. Obviously it didn’t come easy – I met people, looked for buttons to press, and occasionally offered ham. I mostly made friends with parking meters and foxes.

*Because Seven EIGHT Nine. LMAO. GET IT. Seven ate Nine.
** This is why I have to buy friends onlinest.

Dress – Tata Naka. Jeans – Stylenanda. Pumps – Zara.

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Fast forward to 2016, I’m proud to say this gang of dorks are friends
Skirt – Tara Jarmon. Shirtdress – Stylenanda. (On Sarah) Dress – Tata Naka
Charlie wears: all Charlie May. Ring – Mara. Choker – Maria Black.

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Fast forward to 2016, I’m proud to say this gang of dorks are friends. I may have offered a day-trip to Brighton (chaperoned by this crazy Asian lady driver), carby road-snacks and bottomless-ish Moët & Chandon champagne as bait, but I suspect they would’ve done it for nothing. Let me introduce: You know Sarah: sunshine personified, looks a lot like a goddess, humour like a merry bunny. There’s Charlie – designer, girl crush and the real culprit behind the minimalist movement (Philo who?). Emarr, rising star to the world of the fast-spoken rhymes – SoOo talented IT HURTS (Don’t check his Soundcloud, it’s just full of AWESOME, you wouldn’t like it). Last but not least, albeit not pictured, Simon – whom you all know if you follow on Snapchat (sparkncube) – my feminist, zealous, flaming-ball-of-enthusiasm PA (who I may or may not pay to hang out with me). Cheers, and thank you for the #moetmoment. Who needs hydraulics if five of us can make a car bounce to Dr Dre.

creative direction SHINI PARK editorial assistance SIMON SCHMIDT in collaboration with MOËT & CHANDON #OPENTHENOW
Who needs hydraulics if five of us can make a car bounce to Dr Dre.

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#SPARKYxPARIS
How to be a
Parisian
when you quite like the look of your face under a good, strong, elaborate layer of makeup…

I’ve googled it, I possibly even own an illustrated book or two about it*, and if my google search history is any indication I may even have a phD on it the same way my husband is an expert on all things Dungeons and Dragons. HOW DOES ONE BECOME A PARISIAN? The answer is not so apparent, apparently, even when you’re in the thick of it – slurping down a café allongé with a Coach leather coat caped over your shoulders in the middle of Rue Montorgueil, while the cute waiter periodically pops his head out the door and asks Avez-vous terminee? No, mon cher, it’s not terminal – although given that I am on Page 3 of the search results in pursuit of a self-applicable answer it may as well be. I am done with my coffee though; may I have a glass of rosé?

What does being a Parisian even mean? See, if you have a council tax bill under your name from the London Borough of Anywhere, and accepted the local Turkish joint to be at least one of of your weekly meals, then one can generously consider oneself a Londoner – regardless of duration of residence. There is no gait, no 5-piece wardrobe that would allow you to single out a Londoner from a throng. That odd (borderline creepy) obsession to a pub perhaps can be used for an inkling, but then we invite anyone north of Birmingham to this equation.

*this is what happens when you say yes to one too many goody-bags

This is the Airbnb you need to stay at in Paris

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top: suit PAUL & JOE pleated dress COACH SS16 boots SAM EDELMAN. bottom: coat and bag COACH SS16 trousers NEXT

You can however, pick out the Parisienne out of a crowd. The rule-book (illustrated in colour or not) says she is probably blonde, smoking, and most likely also not wearing a smidgen of makeup, but so far my attempts at following this has only led to being shunned from the high street and offered loose change. And that’s where it hits me: we are dealing with the number of f*cks here. Not the optimal heel height, rituals of lovers vs. boyfriends, nor the percentage of black/navy in the wardrobe. French women simply give less f*cks. Whereas English women, my goodness, KOREAN WOMEN are one (face-contour) beauty product too many f*cks to even contend (why do we care so much?). I’m stereotyping here, of course, but it’s an important lesson. Be Spiderman. Be you. Give less f*cks about what people think and layer that dress over the pant-suit. Do it with confidence, because that’s really what being a Parisian is about, n’est-ce pas?