Picking berries atop a concrete jungle…Neeeoow Yooork!

Times Square and its neighbouring corridors of awesome

Sweatshirt – Masha Reva x SNDCT. Skirt – ASOS. Booties – Givenchy. Pouch – Kurt Geiger. Burgundy bag – Marc Jacobs Fulton; Thank you to Mathieu for the outfit shots!

If you followed the blog in 2011, you may remember the sad little tune on page-load that went a bit like ‘…but I would walk 500 miles for a visa… and I would walk 500 miles more… da da da undela undela la la la’. The first quarter of 2011 (around NYFW) I was on a crusade to attain a US visa, that eventually nobody would give, and since then I was genuinely convinced I would not set foot on American soil unless by sailing mistake. Veni, vidi… what’s Latin for ‘failed and cried over a tub of Ben & Jerry’? So imagine the excitement as I pass the ‘National threat | Just another Asian tourist’ threshold at the airport without incident – in fact, go ahead and pick one of these faces and stick it on my body as I’d be wearing it for the ensuing three days in the Big Apple.

It’s difficult to summarize, or even generalize, the effect of NYC to a first timer like myself. If one thing’s for sure, movies don’t spoil anything for you. The city is so awesomely grand that one could not easily fit a view within the scope of your eyeballs, let alone a camera lens, and the experience is composed of layers that simply can’t be bottled up and taken home. Little things like: the language of honks between the taxis (two short bursts mean ‘I had too much coffee and must go number one’ but unsure as I had an old taxi dictionary on me), the musty smell that rises from the subway vent, or how the sun sets in the MOST dramatic way possible; while on cloudier days, the sky looks like it wants to snack on Manhattan. Starbucks is ever-present (and surprisingly popular), yellow school buses (!) cruise the city around 3pm, and there are these random steam outlets along Fifth Avenue (can someone explain this?)… all of this fulfills my postcard expectations of New York and it makes me giddy. Three days was hardly enough though, just when I’d figured out the logic behind blocks! What an incredible city, I can’t wait to be back.

Thank you once again to Coty and Marc Jacobs teams for having me over! #MJDaisyChain

Pleased to meet you, NYC

Distributing fingerprints on every surface at the Marc Jacobs SoHo boutique

Marc Jacobs Daisy

Marc by Marc Jacobs FW13

Wearing: Shearling leather jacket – Muubaa Aurora. Contrast-sleeve jumper – Topshop. Quilted orange skirt – Topshop Boutique . Geometric print skirt – YesStyle. Bag –Kurt Geiger Shoes –Givenchy.

This post was drafted the day after I’d returned from a trip I still suspect was only a dream, one of those sickly-sweet ones you get when your bed linen are freshly washed and you’ve just jumped in from a hot bath. The photos were edited ten thousand feet above the pond, then strung together in a sequence once home, I was drunk with fatigue, but my head was still in the clouds with fresh giddines. I decided I’d leave it at that to pick up fresh the next day, which was the day I read the infamous piece by Suzy Menkes on the circus around fashion weeks and the general integrity of bloggers. Now, to be clear, this is not a rebuttal, or even a commentary. I’m not in the bleachers when it comes to  the street circus game – I’m neither a ‘peacock’ (not that I choose not to, but learnt early on that I do not have the tailfeather(x) -factor), or a ‘black crow’ fashion industry member shuffling through to do their job at fashion week. But it did make me halt because that blogger in paragraph twelve who accepts ‘trophy gifts and paid-for trips’, does refer to me too – in fact, isn’t this sort of post exactly one of the latter? A few days later Leandra wrote her two cents, and then Susie, both gracefully agreeing and disagreeing with Menkes’ points, but also undeniably displaying an attitude of self-reflection which I also found myself to adopt on reading the article. The only difference was, I couldn’t find a suitable response (preferably backed by stellar writing talent) or even the balls to ignore it completely, especially having this post lined up. So every evening since returning I’ve been arguing with myself whether to man-up and post, or seek refuge in the Winchester with a pint and wait for it all to blow over… and this went for two weeks. Who was I kidding, this was not going to ‘blow over’. Echoing what Leandra wrote earlier, we are indeed entering an era where bloggers will not be able to show preference without having our motives questioned. So here I am, withdrawing myself from behind the oh no, will they judge me too wall, with a small promise to you that I will be as honest as I possibly can when it comes to the content of this blog, and that quality control will come before any amount of kebab-money.

With that said, I’d like to thank the Coty and Marc Jacobs teams for the opportunity for an amazing first-time experience in New York, and a privilege to learn more about Marc Jacobs fragrances through #MJDaisyChain. Stay tuned for more!

Louis Vuitton SS13 at Paris Fashion Week

Stills screen-capped from official LV show stream

It’s 9:45 and I’ve already stumbled on a few stairs as I make my way up to my seat. I keep having to stop and look back to take it all in – the giant yellow checker-board (that particular yellow from the infamous 70′s smiley face) throws off any concept of scale and the backdrop of quivering mirrors makes the room seem twice longer. By the time I get to my seat I’m slightly dizzy, and hey is that cushion a yellow square too? There’s a whiff of espresso coming from down the row, and the second-hand caffeine fume gives the whole room a bit of sharpening effect. The lights dim and a tune – what I can only describe as ‘a swirly one’ (actually very appropriate with the psychedelic yellow) – awakens the escalators as the first twin plants themselves on a step. The effect is very Diane Arbus-y at first, but in time, the silhouettes and bow-finished beehives bring it all together: shagadelic sixties baby! Well, now all I can think about is Austin Powers and the Fook Mi/Fook Yu twins. A whole collection of squares, even down to the sequins, and not a single monogram in sight – I like it a lot. Plus, my OCD is pleased.  The finale is a delight – the entire collection take up the four escalator installation and glide down like show-curtains – then once the girls roll back up, Marc Jacobs sprints down an escalator dangerously quickly and I imagine what  London Underground safety announcement would be appropriate.

Many thanks to the LV team for the warm welcome!

Marc Jacobs Wellington

Cashmere sweater, Muriee. Boyfriend Jeans, ASOS. Booties, Sam Edelman Rowin. Specs, YesStyle, Bag, Marc Jacobs Wellington

Just a quickie before I go tip a huge bowl of rice crackers from the lounge snack-bar into my boyfriend jeans for the 8am flight back home. I’m wearing the exact pair now and by happenchance caught a glimpse of my reflection at Tokyo Narita airport and honestly thought it looked like I pooped me pants. In a good way, like, you-ain’t-gonna-pat-me-down-there-surely type of convenience. Anyhow, this is probably not the outfit to be posting while on a layover in 35ºC+ (95ºF) Dubai, but I’m quickly learning that it’s not summer in London if there isn’t at least one piece of cashmere in a July outfit, so to heck with it. This Muriee piece is another one of those that fly on and off the couch with an indecent wash vs. wear count ratio, with a shape so boxy that so effectively conceals all stages of le food baby. My favourite bit is the fact that the cashmere is dyed with berries and leaves, brownie points for eco-friendliness!

Shot in London before leaving for Japan; Thank you Kit for helping with the snaps.

One piece, Three looks: Knee-length chino trousers

Wallet, Chloe

Look 1 (from left to right):  Mint Sweater, H&M. Patterned blouse, Zara. Shorts, Uniqlo. Sandals, Camilla Skovgaard, Straw Bag, Chloe
Look 2: Jacket, Barbour.  Checkered blouse, Motel Rocks.Shorts, Uniqlo. Bag, Marc Jacobs (via Monnier Freres). Shoes, Kate Kanzier. Headphones, Urbanears. Belt, JHYoo. Cat-eye Sunnies, Beyond Retro
Look 3: Bag, Bottega Veneta Initials. Shoes, Coii.kr. Sleeveless blazer, ASOS Africa. Checkered Top, stolen from mummy. Shorts, Uniqlo.

You know how summers go. Vacations, festivals, family reunions, hairplugs, cider by the river, breast reduction surgery, sample sales, that one trip to the zoo where you swear off children forever… I know you know what I mean, you’re BUSY, so, what blog? Well. None of those happened to me in the past postless week so sadly no point getting excited (do we count slamming chest-on into a shelf ‘reduction surgery’? YES/NO). In fact I was home the entire week working 9-to-5 in my suit (suit for super-cool stuff like sleeping) migrating from desk to bed and occasionally the postbox for Dominos Pizza flyers. ‘Tomorrow!’ was the battle-cry, and this blog was the victim in one. Hey, I’m back now, with chino shorts (what an odd thing to comeback in) - I bet you’ve never seen anything like this in a glossy magazine before! In fact I’d fold them neatly and place them in a box with the power drill and a jug of motor oil, marked ‘Utility Stuff’. It was fun though, the challenge of trying to style one, and since I was on a roll of NOT blogging this is a pretty good brain teaser to help reverse directions and roll the other way towards a land of bountiful motivation and cakes, lots of cakes…

Many thanks to Kitty Kat for helping with the photos