Bag – Mansur Gavriel. Sunnies – Karen Walker. Swimsuit – ASOS.

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Port Adriano
magalluf, mallorca, spain | portadriano.com

Now, let me just preface this by saying that when it comes to sailing, or any somesuch art of being at sea, I know jack-poop. There’s really no better way of putting it. I perhaps vaguely know what a boat is because it sounds like ‘butt’ and Nemo touched it, but other than that all sailing/watercraft terminology goes straight over my head. Regatta still sounds like cheese to me. What I do know however, is that summer on a boat – or simply at sea – is infinitely more fun than not. I mean, you’re basically riding a mobile beach that is most times stocked with food and drinks that mysteriously taste better than on solid ground. You’re also surrounded by what is essentially a colossal pool, where you can play Marco Polo until the captain fishes you out of the water with a rod out of sheer annoyance. And suure, your body is in a hilarious state of ‘what is actually going on with the floor’, but the sun and water combination is glorious, refreshing, even humbling.

Peasant Top - Mango. Sunnies – Karen Walker.

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Triangl swimwear

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For the better part of the past decade, Mallorca – the largest Spanish Balearic Island in the Mediterranean – had been a chip-as-chips destination, popular amongst the European hen/stag party crowd and bored pensioners, but gems like Port Adriano help shake off this notoriety. Designed by Philippe Starck, think of it as a parking-lot for floating Mustangs and Maserati’s. Think Grace Kelly, or Bond villain – at least those with private superyachts as extension to their evil lair. So, if there’s something you tick off this summer, make it sailing in Mallorca. If only for the excuse of going out to sea and then letting your instructor do all the work, or making friend with someone that happens to own a hot boat (butt?). Flights are still cheap, so it’s really the best of both worlds. Also, be sure to do Hotel Port Adriano for an early-morning spa appointment and then brunch on the terrace – exactly in that order. The view is so spectacular you’ll be digesting banana peels while counting faraway islands. Plus, the hotel runs on an adult-only concept so you may need to hand in your Gameboys at the door, like I had to.

Park & Cube was a guest of Port Adriano. As usual, views and opinion my own. Snaps of me with the help of Abimarvel.

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Top – Topshop (similar). White trousers – Zara. Shoes – Birkenstock. Bag – Neri Karra.

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Dress – Hush

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Shirt dress – Hush ‘ Iris’. Boots – Stuart Weitzman. Bag – Mansur Gavriel. Scarf – Acne ‘Canada‘. Felt fedora – Hoss Intropia (similar at ASOS).

Welcome to the season of 23-hour daylight savings. I swear, whoever is saving all these daylights must be able to afford to buy a country right now, if not already surrounded by hot girls in bikinis, throwing 15 million°C light bulbs around like it was hundred dollar billz. JEEZ. The sun stayed out for exactly an hour the day this was shot, by the time I’d done up the buttons of my Hush shirt dress it had slunk back into whatever solar cave it had come from. Yet another reason to fling a fist to the sky.

I told you weather is always a good topic. This is why you and I are friends.

Photos with Mr. Tripod

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Samsonite Cosmolite

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Quilted jacket – Barbour. Shearling vest – Muubaa. Bag – Couronne.

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Coat – Mango. White Jeans – AG Jeans. Shoes – Isabel Marant. Scarf – Zara.

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Coat – Mango. Boots – Margiela for H&M. Bag – Mansur Gavriel. Scarf – Acne (Similar).

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Coat – Mango (blazer version). Boots – Margiela for H&M. Bag – Mansur Gavriel. Scarf – Acne (Similar).

Two weeks in Seoul boiled down to a mere 30 photos – yeah, either I’ve had my chronic indecisiveness miraculously cured, or someone broke into the flat during the night and magically edited down the lot. If it’s the latter I also wish they touched me before sneaking out. All kidding aside, once I’d dealt with the two-freaking-thousand files that choked up the ‘SEOUL 2014’ folder, I found myself at a bind, because even with a more manageable bunch my time in Seoul was just too big, dynamic, entertaining, nostalgic, and exotic to ‘boil down’ into one sweeping summary.

Over the two weeks, I reconnected with friends and relatives I hadn’t seen in about seven years, and visited my grandmother who fed me the same type of fried fish she used to hide inside my spoonful of rice when I was little; then my Caucasian husband arrived midway through, and together the city was suddenly an exotic new ground with every corner fascinating. All in all I found: the people supremely enjoyable, the fashion essential, and the food unbearably sexy. Tradition and modernity co-exist in great harmony, which is something I particularly adored this time round – especially how the young people embrace and pride in the heritage…

I do realize I’m technically tooting my own people’s horn here and may not be the best person to lend impartial image of the city but then again you’re not here for impartial reviews, are you?! Because in the next post I’m going to rave about honey pancakes and outline why it’s the bestest thing in the world  and you’re not allowed to ask what about donuts and macarons. 

A huge thanks to Samsonite (x Fashiolista) for the great adventure – do check out how I packed for Seoul, the first 24 hours, and more photos from the trip in the visual diary on Fashiolista.

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London Fashion Week AW14

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Eudon Choi AW14

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Marios Schwab AW14

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Whistles AW14

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Burberry AW14

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Harry Styles in the house, yo

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Outfit 1 (Camel coat): Coat – Club Monaco, Muff – Topshop. Bag – Mansur Gavriel (available for pre-order!). Jeans – James Jeans. Shoes – Church’s. Lipstick – Estee Lauder.
Outfit 2 (Houndstooth coat):  Coat – Selected Femme (via ASOS). Trousers – Zara (similar here). Shoes – ASOS. Muff – Topshop. Bag – Kurt Geiger Britton bowler

Well that just whizzed by, didn’t it. Considering how every season in the past I hobbled home like a war hero, full of stories to tell the grandchildren, dangling off crutches constructed of empty Vitamin Water bottles, this season LFW just felt MUCH less eventful. In fact, it felt like I’d gone to war, hid in the bushes and waited till it was over. I suppose technically this was true, as Hyundai had been so generous to sponsor a car and I spent 70% of the time in there with the awesome driver called Arthur, who’d instantly appear with the Santa Fe from around the corner when I shone a thumbs-up emoji signal into the dark clouds. Thumbs up for ‘I’m done here, let’s get stuck in traffic and talk about motorbikes‘. Coincidentally, I got more work done in that car than a week’s worth of working from home as well, which only confirms that I only work efficiently with impending deadlines (e.g GPS announcing we’re approaching destination). I also started a new relationship with a new phone at the beginning of the week – the Samsung Galaxy Note 3 (via Carphone Warehouse) – and spent the five days in honeymoon bliss, poring over improved functionalities (I’m upgrading from the Note 2) and panicked when it took two minutes, not six, to put up an Instagram photo. What does one do with extra four minutes in life?

It was a good season, and for the first time ever I felt like I saw the few shows I really wanted to see (except Mary Katrantzou, that ticket will be my Oscar). Do look out for more updates in the next few weeks. Plus, I didn’t shorten my lifespan by about twenty years by having to haul three camera lenses and a laptop the whole week. I may have grandchildren, after all!

Many thanks to Hyundai UK and Carphone Warehouse again for the extra twenty years, plus four minutes. Also, a cheeky shout-out  to Lulu Guinness and Vita Coco for the survival kits that made the car known as the ‘party car’ by my peers.