Month: April 2015

It’s A Barbie World

Can authenticity exist under such faux circumstances? When I published my first blog post, it was for the pure love of writing. I mean, I write for a living and it seemed only natural to extend that into the de rigueuer online world. After a while, I saw how some were creating a lucrative, successful profession out of it and I wanted that too. The seemingly glossy world, the freebies, the picture perfect life. And when brands came knocking, I was eager. That is, until I realised how many were very unethical and were only interested in furthering their bottomlines. I started saying no, and eventually, they stopped knocking at my door, I became completely discouraged and stopped blogging for a good two years. I did post a few things, once in a blue moon, but that was it. Last September, I began again and this time, I told myself, I am blogging for me. I am blogging about things I truly feel connected to. And that’s what I’ve been doing ever since. We need …

Guacamole, My Way

In my hometown of Kuching in Sarawak, avocados are incredibly pricey. So pricey that it’s predominantly consumed only by an elite few. We eat it raw, and, typically, as a garnish. Up until the last two years, maybe three, I’ve never been a fan of avocados. I thought they were squishy and I have a thing against foods without texture. So when my trainer told me to incorporate avocados into my diet, my tummy flinched. After prolonged, very extensive online research, I was somewhat convinced to give avocados a go. I mean, they supposedly serve up 20 different vitamins (that’s a lot); they’re an excellent source of healthy fats (taking 1/4 before bed will keep your body full until the morning which means it won’t start eating into muscles you’re working so hard to build); they’re loaded with anti-inflammatory and anti-oxidant properties (these help keep cholesterol levels and heart disease in check); and since 1/4 only contains around 80 calories with 7 grams of fat (and minimal saturated fat), those seven grams are wholly for …

The Fab 40s In Jumpsuits

I’ve always been a late bloomer. Some call it being late to the party while others say it’s all about following the beat of your own drum. I like that. The same mantra applies to the clothes I choose to wear.   Despite their universal appeal, I’ve can safely reveal that jumpsuits rank alongside rompers and peplums as well as pencil skirts and kitten heels as still being on my attempt to-wear bucket list. And herein lies the beauty of a collaborative effort. Being part of a group which takes turns in determining themes means that one can only choose what one prefers once, and only once. Thereafter, you’re pretty much at the mercy of the whims and fancies of the other members, and that isn’t necessarily a bad thing as I’ve come to discover with The Fab 40s. It was Ann’s turn this month and she decided we ought to shine the spotlight on jumpsuits. I confess. I was at my wit’s end. I do not own a single jumpsuit and up until Ann’s …

Skin Deep

All too often, we hear the phrase, “Beauty is only skin deep, it’s what’s inside that counts”. That’s true, to an extent. However, no one can argue that what’s outside plays an enormous part in how we perceive ourselves, in our self-confidence. Shallow as it may sound to some, my face and how I look including the condition of my skin, is one of the most important parts of what makes me, me. So when my anaphylactic shock gave way to a bout of Angioedema, I was devastated. I can’t quite put it into words how I felt save that I was in despair, I felt that my world had completely fallen apart, especially when it recurred, and for the worse. I was blessed to find a few select products which worked well for my condition (and I’m still using them today), soothing and treating even as they healed. As of now, I’m 95% back to normal. And that’s why I wrote about how I healed my face from Angioedema. I knew I wasn’t the …

Very Valentine

Who doesn’t love the adorkable Amanda Valentine? I swear to god if ever we hung out, Amanda and I would get along like two looney Geminis on fire.  For reals. I mean, we have so many things in common (and that didn’t sound at all like a creepy stalker). We’re both awkward and a little loud to make up for our shyness. We have soft spots for loud, art deco statement jewellery pieces. And we’re both HUGE fans of deconstructed clothing, salvaging bits from here and from there to create a completely new, reworked garment (see sheelagoh.etsy.com and discover what Amanda used to create her first ever design here). I bet you thought I was going to say we’re both huge fans of Maroon 5, huh? Did I mention that we’re both Geminis?  I mean, we share the same horoscope as Angelina Jolie, Johnny Depp and the Olsen twins (c’mon, I can die a happy woman now). That said, the very first time I saw Amanda’s work, I wasn’t impressed. I cannot lie. I thought …

Polka Dots & A Touch Of Whimsy

Does the sight of polka dots not put a smile on your face? For me, these spotted darlings rank high right alongside carousels, cotton candy and balloons in terms of the happy happy, joy joy factor. Perhaps it’s their uniformed roundness, or the way they look as though they could bounce from corner to corner with adorable accuracy. Or the way they appear rotund and poofy and beyond cute. Whatever it is that elevates their appeal quotient, I love polka dots and would wear them ever so happily, day in day out. I am obviously acting under the influence of polka dots. I cannot be held responsible for my goofiness. No, I have no valid reason to justify my marching. Nor the swinging of my arms. I told you polka dots make me happy. Do they make you happy? Love, Sheela p/s Photos by Eve Linking up with Style Elixir, Style To Inspire, Turning Heads, Let It Shine, What I Wore Wednesday, Myriad Musings, Style Me Wednesday, Confident Twosday, More Pieces Of Me, On The …

Skin Matters: How I Healed My Face Post Angioedema

If you’ve been following my IG feed, you may have noticed some posts wherein I talked about a horrid face rash. As it turns out, it was more than a face rash.   I had an allergic reaction to new antibiotics which led to acute Angioedema* which, in turn, caused me to go into anaphylactic shock around a fortnight back. I couldn’t breathe and was gasping. Thankfully, I was actually at the doctor’s that very moment and they were able to administer an epinephrine shot. Dramatic, I know. Post that, my face has been a field of redness, swells and welts. That’s the angioedema speaking. The image above is how I looked after a stint at the ER and several hours of being fed steroids intravenously. Before my face poofed up. Before I looked like I had mumps and resembled an Asian dumpling, which is just about what I see in the mirror right about now 🙂 but inflated face aside, I am SO pleased that all the redness is now gone. My skin is …

Of Tutus & David Bowie

Once upon a time, I too was enamoured of Ms Bradshaw and her wardrobe. In fact, I still am very much an aficionado. However, it wasn’t until now that I’ve plucked up sufficient courage to  don a tutu myself. And I must confess, it is such a liberating sensation. No, not because of the breezy, sweeping skirts, cheeky. There’s just something in being an adult wearing a not-all-that-grown-up tutu skirt. I love it. And then there’s Bowie. Mr Ziggy Stardust himself. The fashion adventurer of the 70s. The risk-taker. The icon. It was only fitting that le tutu should meet le Bowie. In my books, anyway. It was also time to showcase this amazing Kente Tribal Clutch I’d recently acquired. Is it not something else? The colours oh so vibrant and full of life. That baroque ring is a gift from Eve.  She knows me. This yellow beaded J Crew wonderment is both necklace and belt and layered bracelet and, for all intents and purposes, a headband today. Yes, those are the famed Jeffrey Campbell …

That 70s Show

How, oh how, oh however have we lived without making reference to those glorious days of the 70s?   I’m not just talking about the bouffant hair or bell bottoms. It was also a time of Ziggy Stardust, androgynous dressing and the power of the flower child. It thrills my heart to no end that runways have been answering the siren call of that decade, showing look after look with subtle (and some not so subtle) nuances that immediately call the 70s to mind. It seemed fitting that Project Sister Act 3 should be all about that 70s show 🙂 I wanted something a little hippy but without being too Woodstock and dated. Finding this dress hiding in the very deep recesses of my closet was a boon particularly as the side cut-outs ensured a contemporary feel. Harking back to accessories of then which were predominantly fabricated from natural elements, I strung some Faux Pearls (wooden beads, actually) which are actually from the 70s. I nicked it from my mum (love you!). The ring? Fabric. …