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.

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story Park & Cube
in collaboration with Park Hyatt Mallorca

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creative direction SHINI PARK styling & photography assistance SIMON SCHMIDT
Off-the-shoulder top – Ghost. Navy shirt – Charlie May. Skirt- Back. Sandals – ATP Atelier

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t-shirt OVER AND UNDER jumpsuit GHOST necklace EFFRA choker MUM’s VINTAGE necklace BYALONA

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hoops MARIA BLACK earring CADENZZA dress GHOST silk scarf WESTON

Silk Coverup – Ghost. Swimsuit – Huit8. Choker – Mum’s vintage. BYALONA

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visit the spa, if only for interior design therapy
Park Hyatt Mallorca
Urbanización Atalaya de Canyamel, Vial A, 12, 07589
+34 871 81 12 34
mallorca.park.hyatt.com

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Final Destination

Mallorca is trying to shed its stag-do/first-teenage-expedition reputation and Park Hyatt Mallorca resort (their first in Europe) might just be the place to finally put the idea to bed. Just two months ago the first bed was fitted, the first Mallorquín-sourced stone walls to receive an inauguration from the summer sun, and the first fistful of Bottega Veneta bath products distributed across the 142 rooms and 16 suites. On arrival, we are momentarily confused as the car pulls up to what looks like another village on the island – complete with an amorous, leafy plaza, a cluster of restaurants and a handsome tapas bar – until our bags disappear up a hill on a golf cart driven by a tanned porter in white uniform.

We are received in a setting quite like a members’ club lounge (a signature Hyatt welcome), lined with ebony bookcases stocked with the works of Morello and Cernuda – not yet quite dusty. Our rooms, as airy as the breeze outside: a symphony of calming hues and modern fixtures. ‘Hola Shini Park’, read the service iPad, and our thumbprints break the room’s cherry. Moments after I unpack and splash some water on my face, the terrace lures me to a front-row seat to a sunset that blazes the pink walls in orange ember*. Practically a balm after what had possibly been the most ludicrous airport jaunts of my life (you may have witnessed me and Simon progressively turn nuts in the
span of 12h wait before the next available flight). Tomorrow,
a chorizo-scrambled eggs breakfast and an afternoon
by the heated pools await…

*Only if we could toss Gatwick Express and the lot
into that fire.

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head scarf WESTON dress GHOST boots MIUMIU

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straw hat H&M palazzo trousers NEXT (SIMILAR)

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jumpsuit GHOST boots MIUMIU necklaces AS BEFORE

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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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