Month: May 2016

The Fab 40s Go Boho

 Wanderlust. Free-spirited. Authentic.   Isn’t that what lies at the heart of the word bohémien?  I mean, it’s all about being a gypsy.  And certainly not merely in terms of style.  There’s a great deal more to the concept than fringes and tassels and Coachella.  Being bohemian is a state of mind.  Unconventional.  Moving away from the expected be it in life and/or in thought. When applied to fashion, the spirit of bohemian manifests itself in an air of decided nonchalance.  And by that, I revel in the sweet irony of how today, in the 21st century, the fashion elite dons crochet and ruffles galore in the hopes of looking nomadic, and non-bourgeois, when in reality, the real bohemian lasses themselves are sexy and delightful precisely because they simply don’t give a shit. U N A P O L O G E T I C Suffice to say, the word “unapologetic” springs to mind at this juncture, yes? Although we haven’t yet navigated ourselves around the boho sphere, I do recall broaching the topic of  …

Growl Power & A Link-Up

Loud, proud. And in your face.   Animal prints have long been associated with a certain vibe, and I haven’t quite discerned why.  Is it because they’re so completely unapologetic?  That they harken to days when perceived as a symbol of status and wealth?  Or is it simply due to the infamy surrounding faux and real?  Which motivates people to pounce (and quickly) on the use of anything remotely resembling that distinctive pattern. I, for one, look at them as being the visual epitome of confidence. No matter the reason, there does appear to be certain preset opinions when it comes to this particular family of print as in who wears it, when it’s meant to be worn.  I remember my first.  It was a pair of cheetah print mules with the cheekiest pom pom trims, purchased in Takashimaya, Singapore.  I believe it was 1995 and I wore them when the sun was still shining, with a baby blue sleeveless tee dress.  I also recall, most vividly, that animal prints were confined to evening then, …

Money, Money | Sheela Writes

Money, Money

A necessary evil. That spins the world.   This is one of those harder-to-write posts.  The sort which makes you ponder a little.  Question what you’re doing, but more importantly, why you’re doing it.  We all blog for different reasons. I mean, creating a blog is easy enough, it’s a clear understanding of why we blog that sustains the momentum and allows us to do this, not only consistently, but also continuously. M I N E ? Personally, I’m no longer certain if my original catalyst still stands.  I began writing because I felt stifled by the industry within which my full-time job exists.  Have I ever told you what I do for a living in the offline world?  I take care of all communications and branding activities for a Managed Security Services Provider (aka an internet security firm).  The blog is my outlet for self-expression preservation.  As yours is for you, I reckon. At the end of the day, no matter our personal agendas, we blog to gain recognition.  To be noticed.  Be it …

Location, Location, Location | Sheela Writes

Location, Location, Location

Where.  How. You know what they say.   Does it seem to you that these days, where one shoots appears to be of greater importance than what one actually shoots?  Or what one wears?  Am I the only one? SEEING SOMETHING THAT ISN’T EVEN THERE? I get it that backdrops can make or break an outfit post.  I really do.  That they can do influence the number of likes one garners.  And I completely understand how we all want to achieve some semblance of differentiation amidst the tidal wave of bloggers that seems to be doing naught but expand, increase, and grow in size. I’m all for a cool coloured wall. My contention is that a kickass backdrop should never be an excuse for us to “take it easy” when it comes to the clothes we’re wearing.  Why do I say that?  Well, I’ve seen some truly picturesque walls, incredibly arresting in how graphic they are, with their impact so terribly diluted due to quite possibly the most bland, mundane outfits ever.  As though the …

Reinvention & A Link-Up

Necessity. Mother of invention.   So sayeth Plato. So too sayeth many a person in the public eye, apparently.  I’ve been giving this a fair amount of thought lately.  Contemplating on how the marketing wheels of the world churn on, never pausing let alone ceasing, and the downstream effect that has on those who are constantly seen.  Who make it their jobs to be seen.  And the importance (read: value) of constantly revamping oneself.  What’s that clichéd term again?  To look fresh and relevant. For the purposes of this post, I’ll be focusing on my peers.  Bloggers.  Content Editors.  Style/Digital Influencers.  Whatever the current trending phrase may be. I’ll be honest.  I can’t quite keep up these days (take that with a grain of salt, Sheela asks, with an impish grin). There are those who regularly change things up, albeit on a more modest scale, such as Neela and Keiko.  A snip here, a highlight there every few months.  Then, we have those who plunge knee-deep into massive changes.  Such as Jane, Sophia and Kirsten. …

Integration

Merging of worlds. When two or four become one.   My starting words just formed the premise for a porn flick.  Sigh.  Completely unplanned, I swear.  These things just happen.  And no, I’m not thinking aloud.  At least I don’t think so. MOVING ON I’m an ardent fan of The Voice.  Wait, make that an unapologetic groupie.  A groupie who’s faithfully watched all but the first two seasons of this reality show (that’s not my fault though, The Voice wasn’t broadcasted in Borneo when I lived there) and who sadly watched Nick Hagelin go home last night.  I adore the guy but not for the reasons you might think.  True, he’s easy on the eye, multi-talented (ex pro ballet dancer, yo) and appears to be a genuinely nice person.  Besides, which woman doesn’t find a falsetto sexy on a shredded guy? But that’s not why I’m sorry to see him go. In the last few episodes, conversations with  Nick (albeit brief) have unveiled an unusually mature and insightful soul.  I’ve been consistently and pleasantly surprised …

Mummy Dearest & A Link-Up

Madre. Mamma. Mum. Mak. Mother.   When I first thought of bringing a few bloggers together to celebrate mothers, the idea was to reminisce and share.  An extra special memory.  Or heirloom, shared between generations.  And/or your basic everyday thoughts about that woman in your life.  Which makes it ironic that as I sit here before my laptop, fingers to the ready, words are simply not pouring forth. The relationship I have with my mother has been fraught with ups and downs.  That isn’t to say she was unkind or abusive.  Quite the contrary.  My mother is the loveliest, living saint of a person I know.  And therein lies the problem.  She was/is amazing.  I was/am difficult. See, it’s hard growing up with zero resemblance to your mother particularly when people look at her and say, “So pretty!!” then turn to look at you saying, “What happened to you?” I KID YOU NOT I fully realised, even then, that it wasn’t her fault at all.  In fact, whenever she heard any comment of that nature, …

In The Trenches | Sheela Writes

In The Trenches

Battling style banality occurs to me on a daily basis.   You’re perplexed?  What on earth is Sheela talking about?  Does the woman genuinely fight with her clothes?  Yes, I do.  Every single day.  I’ve won some, I’ve lost a few, and there’s the occasional amicable ceasefire truce too.  Less the imagery of carnage arises in your minds, I promise that this be a war of words and of thoughts, albeit murderous in nature.  My husband calls it my “fumigating with eyes” mood. THAT “IF LOOKS COULD KILL” MOOD Hahaha.  Sorry, I was just thinking that it’s a look members of my gender are probably more than familiar with. Back to debacles and battles.  Do you ever get the sensation that clothes give lip?  That they talk back, and act all sassy and brassy?  I’m not in the least bit joking.  In fact, I have the oddest impression that, given the chance, my brown top with the spiked elbow pads?  And those new B&W flatform creepers?  The tales they’d spill tell.  Let’s not even mention …