From Top to bottom: Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (2004), Oliver Twist (2005), Inglorious Basterds (2009)
Etro
Isabel Marant
Kelly Wearstler
Shinola
Masunaga
Chloé
Harris Wharf London
Alberto Fasciano
Maison Michel
Y’s
KTZ
Current location: Seoul, South Korea. Time-zone: Galaxy far far away, corner of Asgard and one stop before Uranus. My body does not comprehend the blue tint of dusk creeping through the blinds at the wee hours of the morning and sends out confusing bodily signals including but not limited to: hunger, a need-to-pee, PMS, utter exhaustion and insomnia (at the same time), and demands that I do something about it. In return, I do what I usually do when faced with jetlag: eat something questionable out of my Airbnb host’s fridge, entangle self within a duvet and find a TV shopping channel sufficiently entertaining enough to sap the last of energy. The effect is sublime – I arrived on Thursday and woke up on Monday morning ,feeling brand spankin’ new.
Problem is, I still don’t know what time it is. Imma go pee.
I am a 90‘s kid. What this means is that my primary excitement in life usually consisted of some form of waiting or another, be it in the 3-page hand-written letters from a pen-pal in Japan, or sighting my favourite song on MTV. If you too are a 90‘s kid you will have sung the anthem of the modem connecting to 56kbps, and understand why the PC had to be left on overnight for a flick to download. Joking aside (at arm‘s reach though), with the rise of insta-everything and deliver-yesterday convenience, we are forgetting about this glorious thing called patience, and the stories that happen while you wait.
You all know my thoughts towards the brands I like to work with, they have one thing in common: the value of patience; of travelling to the ends of the earth to obtain only the best ingredients – ingredients not available on Amazon Prime that‘s for certain – and treating with care and respect. Bombay Sapphire is one of those companies: full of character, story and passion – all bottled up in layers of flavour, into a clean London Dry Gin. So, here‘s a visual collection of stories that make up the notes of the extraordinary, new Star of Bombay, shot in my local tropics: Kew Gardens.
And of course, drink responsibly.
I am a strong believer that when it comes to cities, especially of those ‘home’ variety for individuals who – like me – have confusing heritage, it’s all about spicing things up in the bedroom, so to speak. And for this I wholeheartedly recommend roleplaying: sexy nurse, keen repairman, bored prison guard… whatever floats your boat (enthusiastic Pokémon trainer for me), but the trick is to live, experience and interact with your city from a slightly different perspective, different lifestyle. Rent an inexpensive car for a few days instead of taking public transport, wear a suit every day for no reason, shop like a local, walk like a tourist, book an Airbnb flat in a high-rise and wake up to sunrise on the 20th floor… Enjoy wider horizons but also encounter new limitations. Yes I’m aware this sounds like a page out of a self-help book, but I promise, IT’S SEXY WHEN YOU’RE DOING IT RIGHT. I’d like to think that this is how London and I keep a healthy relationship, even if I have to ask for a hall pass every now and again.
Seoul, for me, is one of those ‘home’ cities – despite never having lived there and a place I still consider an exciting, unmapped territory, I can’t help that on the rare occasion I do visit I slink into an oddly familiar routine that one would typically expect from a local. Now, this isn’t to say that I know my way around the back streets of Gangnam or the best way to haggle over a kilo of spinach with the lady in the market (why does one need kilo of spinach anyway), but it is the inevitable nature of: I seem to blend in with my own people? Last April, brought over by work, I was determined to spice it up – and instead of going straight to one of my relatives, booked two nights at the Conrad hotel on Yeuido island – the city’s business and banking district and also home to the most spectacular cherry blossom festival.
The hotel, while stunning in design and efficient in service, is undeniably oriented towards business purposes, which is exactly what I’d wanted. I woke up early and mingled with the suited men at breakfast, read the cartoon page off the International New York Times with my glasses perched low on my nose, and abused the concierge app to book wake-up calls but snoozed through the morning. In the afternoon, I took walks through the cherry blossom festival and bought street food, which I smuggled back into my room. And on the last day, I took a friend and snuck into a local public school’s sports field and we spent the afternoon on the bleachers imagining life as a Korean high-schooler. It was love rekindled, and so far away from the Seoul that I got too easily accustomed to. Next time, I’m booking a helicopter ride and borrowing a dog. Now tell me that’s not some power couple’s therapy.
A big thank you to Conrad Seoul for the kind hospitality.
With every passing season it seems more and more apparent that I approach Fashion Week dressing exactly like how I prepared for my GCSE’s: Revise the crap out of the first exam on schedule (history), and then sob through the rest, cramming two years’ worth of curriculum every night before exams while simultaneously replacing water with Red Bull in my circulatory system. Fast forward about ten years later – same drill, different liquids. If ya know what I mean.
Here’s sort of a play-by-play:
All photo assistance by Simon Schmidt.