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Posts tagged eclettica

So with the prospect of a new school year looming over all our heads (countdown T-Minus 9 hours), I thought it only apt to do this back-to-school post featuring an Instagram conversation with my teenage daughter and her friends, on how they feel going back to school.  More on that later but first, here’s a quick look at me during my high school years (cos it’s my blog and I wanna).  Although, in Malaysia, we call it Secondary School and it lasts 5 years, between the ages of 13 to 17.

761_1057542523185_9760_nThere’s me at 13, with my cross-between-Anita Mui-and-Andrew Ridgeley do.  My brother’s proudly displaying his Sade album back when cassette tapes were cool.  And isn’t my mum gorgeous?

1959515_10152324365438390_6875849994800939423_nA group shot of the class in our final year.  Can you guess which one I am?  Clue:  I’m at the very back.  Do you also see the adorable face of the genius behind one of my very fave blogs, Chocolate Cookies and Candies??

257403_10150200795002960_924221_oAnd here I am at 18, going from 3 years of zero skirts and super short hair to, well, the picture’s fairly self-explanatory.  Sidenote, I made that skirt myself.  I was so proud.  Yeah, I’m very much Daddy’s girl.

Moving on to how things are done in 2014.  This is the Instagram chat I was telling you about, verbatim:-

sheelagoh After three months of late nights, sleeping in and zero teacher presence, you’re about to dive into the fray in less than 24 hours. Tell me, in just one word, how do you feel? p_i, z_z, r_rj, help me out in tagging a few others?
z_z Disgruntled, mostly
r_rj Hmmm …
r_rj I asked others and this was their answer: groovy, depressed, anxious, worried, nervous, overwhelmed, crestfallen, distressed, melancholy…in conclusion, they just feel poopy
sheelagoh Disgruntled = Despondent & Depressed so you get a hug z_z
sheelagoh Groovy? r_rj I like poopy.
p_i Pissed off
p_i Crappy
p_i Exhausted
p_i Worried
p_i Annoyed
p_i Depressed
p_i Distressed
p_i Troubled
p_i Agitated
p_i Flustered
p_i Nervous, anxious, eager
p_i Excited, ambivalent, refreshed
p_i Hesitant
p_i I promise not all of these are mine LOL
p_i Sad, an intermittent pain, a scared emoji
p_i Prostrated by pressure
p_i Roweling, depressing, whetting competition
p_i Worried, delectation of wisdom, ordeals
p_i Nonplussed
p_i Dread
sheelagoh Well then p_i LOL LOL LMAO
So I wonder if they realise that it’s not just students bemoaning the dawn of tomorrow?  That parents are in mourning too?
Let’s see if I survive the next 24 hours.  You know you’ll hear all about it soon enough, right here, so be sure to come back and see if I’m still alive.  Until then, stay strong, you parent you.
xo Sheela xo
p/s I know the last bits of this post are all messed up in terms of font and I have no idea how to fix them INSERT ANGRY FACE

It seems almost sacrilegious to pledge allegiance to just one designer.  Basic fundamentals aside, is fashion not about reinventing oneself?  Being constantly unexpected?  Eschewing predictability?  Do we not hear the doyens preach the pertinence of being fresh, being new, being different?  With that mindset, I pen my thoughts and explain how I, being enamoured of multiple labels, can stay true to all without being disloyal to one.

An ode would be amiss without the inclusion of the Japanese sensei, Issey Miyake, the man credited with creating organised chaos from calm.  His deft hand in manipulating fabrics into dimensional pleats was the catalyst to my passion for the seemingly frivolous world of fashion at the age of 7.  I recall quite distinctly that my very first design was actually inspired by a bucket of water that was in the bathroom of my parents’ home in 1983.  I was fascinated by the stark contrast created by the steel, rigid curved handle against the soft, plastic which was used to fabricate the body of the bucket.  Sidenote: imagine what a wondrous world we would live in if we never lost sight of seeing beauty in everything???

Issey Miyake

Next we have the Mad Hatter.  That’s Philip Treacy to you.  What a brilliant, mad genius.  His eccentricity is what convinced me to always march to the beat of my own drum.  Always.  Very often, it’s easy for us to kowtow to the parameters (or expectations, shall we say) dictated by society and to mould our personalities to conform thereto.  The Mad Hatter has taught me otherwise, and I am forever grateful for that.  I have fond memories of wearing Black Suede Pixie Boots with Black & Silver Harem Pants topped with a Black Tube Top (yeah, that’s what they were called back in the day) and traipsing around town with Metallic Copper Lippy, all under the hot 34 Celcius sun that was typical of life in Sarawak.  And this was 1986.  Good times, good times.  Somehow, along the way of growing up and (attempting to) act(ing) like a mature adult, I grew conscious of what people would think.  I really need to stop that.  Like really.

Philip Treacy

And, naturally, like many others, I too had a tabernacle set up in the name of McQueen.  I worshipped his broody, dark mind, so powerful in its stark bleakness yet so incredibly vulnerable in its evident fragility.  I worshipped the power of his madly glorious confections which were, simultaneously, empowering as they were endearing.  And I anticipated his next collection with as much relish as a man thirsting for water in the desert, truly.  His ability to create the wearable out of the clearly unwearable was pure genius.  To turn the classic into something utterly avant garde, brilliant.  To see beyond just looking.  This is going to sound incredibly clichéd but I’ll say it anyway ~ he helped me realise that you MUST look past the obvious to find the unusual.  You simply must.  While that might sound elementary, it’s certainly something many of us should remember (and put to use) these days.  Without doubt, the impeccable craftsmanship and deployment of unapologetically flamboyant colours continue to this day but, for me, Ms Burton’s pieces are devoid of that raw edge so clearly evident in the past, leaving the garments to appear as, well, merely beautiful garments.

mcqueen

And that, ladies and gentlemen, about sums up the three top brands I would quite happily kill to work with :) which are your choice labels?

Love, SG

p/s many thanks to IFB for putting this as the week’s challenge, it was fun :)

I can finally lay claim to having my Botox Cherry popped and quite recently too. No, not for the reason very likely flashing across your brain just about now :)

When I was 19, my then boyfriend and I were involved in a serious accident.  We were on his Scrambler bike turning right when a car rammed into us.  I literally flew about 20 feet and landed with my head hitting the curb.  To this day, I’m thankful for what seemed to be a splurge prior to the accident ~ $500 crash helmets.  That saved my life.  I suffered a broken wrist, a chunk of flesh scraped off my right shin (gross, I know) and a dent on the back of my skull.  It’s the latter which proved to be the catalyst for my Chronic Migraine.  Although, at the time, I simply chalked it down to really bad headaches.  Afterall, it was 1992 in Sarawak and medical facilities were, let’s say, wanting.

A month ago, my Ophthalmologist (bless you, Dr Pham) referred me to a Neurologist because uniformed prints were starting to hurt me.  As in physically hurt my eyes to the point of kickstarting a migraine.  I was seeing halos around just about everything.  And then there were those Migraine Storms, horrid bouts of pain which attacked at ferocious speed, leaving me (temporarily) blind in one eye.

I’d tried just about every medication under the sun. Read popping as many as 20 Ibuprofens at a time, to no avail.  So when my Neurologist, Dr Woon, told me that I qualified for Botox as Migraine Therapy, I was eager to try it, raring to go.  I mean, I’ve reached the stage wherein it isn’t so much as whether I have a migraine today as it is when was the last time I didn’t have a migraine.  Also, a girlfriend in Dallas had been on Botox treatments for close to a year now and the frequency of her migraine attacks had dropped drastically from twice a week to once every month, less at times.

Botox Migraine Therapy

It’s been just shy of a week since my virgin round of injections and from what Dr Woon’s told me, it’s way too soon to tell.  That it takes at least a full week for the Botox to kick in.  I can’t wait.  It’s been so long since I’ve had a migraine free day that I can’t even remember how it feels to not have my head pound anymore :) I’ll keep you posted.

 

Love, SG

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