Creamy cashmere by Eric Bompard

The 1AM Promenade

Cashmere Coat & Scarf – On loan from Eric Bompard, Cashmere blend jumper – Uniqlo, Jeans – c/o Levi’s, Brogues – Office, Clutch – c/o Chanel

If I used ‘soft‘ to describe cashmere, would that put me in the Humour, lack-thereof category in Bloglovin’? You see, ‘soft’ really doesn’t cut it when describing the furry ball of rainbow scrunched up in your hand, slippery and foamy all at the same time. Soft is for sentences like ‘Baby here’s your Gilette, the enchanted forest must go, I liked your legs soft and smooth’. Best not put me in a game show, I don’t stand a chance in explaining the fabric without using words like supercalifragilisticexpialidocious or MAGIC. Isn’t everything MAGIC when it’s sparkly and furry anyway. What’s a Paris visit without a visit to Eric Bompard, the one brand that is understood to have reached the prime shelves of practically every Parisian’s wardrobe?  You should’ve seen this one black 100% cashmere poloneck that would’ve banished every piece but a pair of grey skinnies and black stilettos from my mood-rail for the rest of the season… Lorraine kindly let me borrow a coat and scarf for the night as I’d underpacked for the weather, which probably was a very big mistake – not the underpacking – the getting an unintended taste of the… MAGIC, and having to give it back. See me go my precious with a coat.

Thank you Lorraine & Gabriel for the invitation, and Carrie for helping with the shots!

Laptop case – Lost Property of London, Black Dress – Nikicio, Cardigan – Topshop, Leather Jacket – Alpine Stars by Denise Focil; Sweater – H&M, Jeans – Levi’s, Bag – Coach, Shoes – Topshop, Sunnies – Jeepers Peepers

As a rare drinker the closest I’ve had to the Campari red is probably a squirt of a strawberry-fragrance dishwash liquid that landed on my lip while trying to drown a mosquito on the windowsill. Milla Jovovich was the obvious bait for me on this quick trip to Milan, as I joined Campari celebrate their Campari 2012 Calendar named It’s the End of the World, Baby after the popular belief that the world will end on the 21st of December 2012. Now, my personal opinion on that date is that it’s a load of rabbitpoop – you may quote me on the 22nd December – but if that gets Milla into 13 haute-couture dresses and throw a party then I’ll keep quiet for now. And how can I ever say no to Milan… I accidentally discovered marocchino (a miniature cappuccino with a cube of chocolate dunk for the sweetest last swig) and that was simply the best cure-in-a-cup for my travel exhaustion.

Thank you Campari for having me over, and Katy for the shots of moi!

Jacket – Zemełka Pirowska, Shirt – Courtesy of Uniqlo, Floral bag – Courtesy of Catherine Membre, Jeans – Courtesy of Levi’s Curve ID, Boots – H&M; Thank you Macku for the photos!

Someone once asked me, What would you wear on the day of the Apocalypse? to which I believe I replied…just t-shirt and jeans. Erhm, in light of this ‘outfit’, I’m just going to clarify that I do not know more than you know about the world coming to an end or not. I’m innocent, I promise!

I do think my stay in Warsaw is nearing its expiry date though, seeing that I’ve been shuffling the same corner of my wardrobe for the past few days – the same corner being the very pile of what I have on here – jeans, t-shirt and a tote bag. Actually, I feel sorry for the the beautiful liberty fabric and silk lining of the Vehla tote, it’s almost unfair to be walking alongside borderline pyjamawear. This is the second instalment of Uniqlooks for this month, but as far as real life goes, this is second degree laziness and, in essence, a giving-up of digging at all the wardrobes available in the house. My father purchased a large padlock and I’m meant to know why. They say leave the party when it’s still full but this seems to be the case of the party is over and you’re picking up and eating the fingerfood from the floor. Hopefully next time I’m in Warsaw for a stretch of 11 weeks, it will be of my own choosing.

Cape & Shoes – Zara, Coat – Mum’s Roem, Jeans – Courtesy of Levi’s, Bag – The Bridge, White silk shirt – Make Lemonade

This post is not exactly how I intended to ring in 2011 on this blog, so please work with me while I pretend 2011 is still in the horizon and this blog is that country called Republic of Procrastinica that’s about five and a half globes behind in time.

It looks like I should title my posts with more care as I did end up going into an unintentional 10-day-long Silence, as per the prediction of the previous post title. Sorry to disappoint, but the silence wasn’t induced by a bad footing in the snow and a smashing of my peabrain onto the cobblestones of Warsaw (what an enthralling image), although even if I did in most likelihood the pea would’ve survived. (Survival pea knows no danger) I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before but the curse (and blessing, somewhat) of growing up in international schools means everyone scatters after graduation; 5 years have passed since highschool and now home is basically a clean slate; shucks, sometimes it feels like starting in a new city. What I realised this time though, was that I was starting to draw on that blank page with friends made thanks to this blog. I won’t name them all, but they’ve really become people I can call ma homeys. Thank you all for saving me from perpetual laundry and dish cleaning, and thank you always for a great time.

Jacket & Cashmere scarf – Uniqlo, Sweater – Courtesy of Quiksilver, Jeans – Courtesy of Levi’s Curve ID, Shoes – Zara, Bag – Courtesy of Chanel, Watch – Casio via ASOS #teenvogue

Photos by Yu the 11-year-old again, talent-o-meter raising the roof.

Dear Diary,
I woke up today and had a swig of yesterday’s red bull to start the day fresh. There was a slight whiff of bacon burning in the house, but I think it was the neighbours roasting a pig in their snowcovered lawn again. Weirdest people ever. I shuffled down to the kitchen in my blue teddybear pjs expecting to pass the thumping music from my brother’s room and my mum’s blowdry opera, but there wasn’t a sound. The ventilation in the toilet was humming but where were my mummy and daddy? Where was my brudder? AHHHHHHH!! (wait, I skipped to the part where I put some of my brother’s cologne on…)

Is it just me, or is this always the story of December 27th after the official festivities have died? The noise of the holidays is suddenly zapped, you wake up in the Home Alone movie with everyone else gone to resume their lives and next thing there’s maple syrup and broken glass on the stairs.