Month: Aug 2016

All Choked Up

Finding inspiration. And when does it border on copying?   The million dollar question, huh?  How does one become inspired?  True, pretty and creative things abound and, of course, you have the treasure trove of resources known as Tumbler and Pinterest as well as Instagram.  I myself oscillate between the latter two all the time.  On top of that, we also print options and style portals and more.  Resources are practically at the tip of our fingers. But if you really want to get into the nitty gritty of things, such as what inspires whom, who inspires the other, let’s call it “inspiration hunting“, for lack of a better phrase, that’s when it takes on a different tone.  That’s when things become a smidge more serious.  And rightly so since this is one of the most constant topics of debate within the design and creative arts world.  The blogosphere included. How, or rather, where does one even begin to draw the line between “inspiration” and “emulation” or “imitation” or “homage“?  Take for instance this post …

The Fab 40s In Bomber Jackets | Sheela Writes

The Fab 40s In Bomber Jackets

It’s that time again. Tis the season to go bomb diggity.   Now, if you’re feeling somewhat inclined to make a sporty statement, perhaps throw in a hint or three of flirt girl even, and display some of that unique personality (and why wouldn’t you), a light jacket is warranted.  More commonly known as the bomber, it’s essentially the lightweight spinoff of a varsity coat peppered with oodles of attitude and healthy doses of street gang chic.  In these times of great uncertainty, where change comes at lightning speed, familiarity has a way of comforting us.  And who doesn’t love a good remix of a classic? No longer confined by its military roots (as clearly evident from escalating use of feminine colours and motifs), the bomber has truly evolved into a fashion staple.  One found draped across the shoulders of nearly everyone who gives any thought to what they wear. And I believe I can safely include the vast majority of us within that cluster. Much more than merely an added layer, bomber jackets today are …

High Heels & A Link-Up | Sheela Writes

High Heels & A Link-Up

Stilettos. Pumps.  Platforms.   I suppose it’s safe to say that I’m somewhat fond borderline obsessed with shoes.  Fondness equates 20, 30 pairs, and the absence of raised eyebrows when one picks up a pretty pair on display at the mall.  There is neither incoherent sputtering of utter disbelief from spouses nor unbearably loud wails of resistance from children at the sheer prospect of you trying on pair after pair after pair.  None of that. Obsessed, on the other hand, translates into a roomful of shoes with random sightings of stacked shoe boxes throughout the house.  Whereat, I propose, there may or may not be daily knocks on the door, signalling the arrival of yet another pair (or four) vis–à–vis the trusty postman.  An environment wherein the afflicted affected household suffers from a chronic condition known only as colour impairment (read: yes, darling, dark red and vermilion and cherry red and crimson and auburn and brick are all different shades of red, I’m not making it up). Well, I love heels.  I love wearing heels, and …

Camopalooza & A Link-Up | Sheela Writes

Camopalooza & A Link-Up

An extravagant party. A shingding of great magnitude.   In urban speak, a palooza is a party (or celebration) of epic proportions.  Indulgent.  Exaggerated.  A particularly outstanding occasion, with fun and merry-making in abundance.  To be perfectly honest, I’m inclined to liken my past collaborations with Jodie (and Nancy and Charlotte) as well as Eve as being, well, just that.  Let me explain.  It’s been rather unexpected how we’ve clicked.  Or, I should say, how unexceptionally well we’ve gotten along, and how much I’ve personally learned from all four ladies. I’VE LEARNED QUITE A LOT Which, in the spirit of full disclosure, was not something I’d expected. Despite being a (not so hot) mess of insecurities, when it comes to clothes and styling them, I’ve always fancied myself as being there, you know, right alongside the upper echelon of stylemeisters.  That I knew what to wear, what not to wear, and how to wear it all.  Fashion has been such an enormous cornerstone of my life that I’d become comfortable.  No, complacent.  And, I now …

Camo & Leopard & Red, Oh My | Sheela Writes

Camo & Leopard & Red, Oh My

Shiny, happy colours. Camo meets brights in a face-off.   Today’s post shall be a smidge different from my norm, let me first pre-empt you.  Being rather pressed for time (I fear this will be somewhat on repeat mode from hereon since the new school year begins in just a scant few days), I will be focusing on clothes today.  Purely on clothes. LETTING PICTURES DO THE TALKING Which isn’t necessarily a bad deviation.  Afterall, variety can add spice to life, yes? Kickstarting our collaboration, Jodie and her bevy of beauties together with Eve and myself paraded our pastel pairings on Monday.  In this second part of the adventure, we show you how we wear camo with colour.  Bright, happy colours. Which, for me, automatically meant Red. I know not why but it did.  And on a more laidback, easy breezy note, you know?  An unbuttoned linen shirt with haphazard cuffs.  (Somewhat) intentionally dishevelled hair. A side knot which was equal parts functionality and frivolity.  When it comes to wearing maxi anything with non heeled …

A Pattern Disordered Post

To disguise. Or as an act of concealment.   What is it with camouflage?  What is the fashion world’s fascination with that organised clutter of brown and green?  I mean, how camo can you go? QUITE A BIT, ACTUALLY But first, an ironic twist. Camo is all about blending in, true, but as a style choice, it’s a trend impossible to miss.  Let me put it to you this way.  Camo is a fashion disguise to be worn when you want to be seen.  When you want to make a lasting impression.  In a world increasingly populated by sartorial clones, novel use of an institutional print is what sets you apart. After all, there certainly is no better metaphor for the clothes we all put on every day, conceived and chosen to help us blend in to whatever personality or environment we choose, yes? Again, how camo can one go? Without appearing as though we’ve just walked off base? How do we make camo beautiful and romantic? The trick is to use camouflage as any …

Birds, Bees & A Link-Up | Sheela Writes

Birds, Bees & A Link-Up

People talk about it, Everywhere and all of the time.   What am I referring to?  Why, sex, of course.  A topic that is, in equal parts, as lambasted over all media channels as it is spoken in hushed, furtive tones. Yes, let’s talk about sex, baby. There’s a deviation from my usual blog post. ARE YOU INTRIGUED YET? So today, I want to talk about sex.  Now this is not an easy one, my friends.  I was brought up in an exceedingly conservative environment.  To understand just how “fuddy duddy” things were, during an English lesson with my mother, in response to the question of what the plural of “penny” was, I said “pennies“.  My mother blushed red as a beetroot, shushed me, blurting, “Don’t say that!!!” Honestly?  I had no idea what she meant.  A few years later, I (erroneously) thought it was because I’d made a grammatical mistake.  After all, the plural of penny is pence.  Many years on, I realised it was because my mother felt my pronunciation of “pennies” was …

Real Is Rare & A Link-Up | Sheela Writes

Real Is Rare & A Link-Up

Be yourself. How vague is that.   Be yourself – quite possibly the most commonly used phrase in the history of individualist-based advice.  Be yourself.  What does it even mean, to be yourself?  And is it really as easy as it sounds?  Oscar Wilde once said with his usual wit, “Be yourself; everyone else is already taken”. As humorous as this might seem, it’s a basic summation of the truth.  I mean, how could you possibly be yourself if (1) you don’t know who you are; and (2) you don’t accept yourself the way you are.  Agreed? Find yourself and define yourself on your terms. Let me (attempt to) do that.  Here and now. The first thing that comes to mind is I need to decipher what it is that I value.  Since that will help me piece together which attributes make me, me.  I suppose one way is to review choices I’ve made, and roads I’ve travelled.  The things I would do in a heartbeat, and things that I wouldn’t.  All of which have, …

Being Uncomfy & A Link-Up | Sheela Writes

Being Uncomfy & A Link-Up

People staring, Watching, and whispering.   Remember my very first session with a professional photographer, complete with big, floppy hat, and sunny side up?  Or that virgin foray into a location shoot (read: venturing far outside my comfort zone backyard) and surviving the ordeal of changing in the backseat of a car?  Well, that was in February, my friends, and how things have changed since. Do not misunderstand.  I remain immensely uncomfortable about striking a pose (or ten) in public.  Those sidelong glances and not too subtle looks still get to me.  And the tendency to flush blush will probably never ever completely disappear.  But that’s quite alright. I’ve gotten comfortable about feeling uncomfortable. DOES THAT MAKE SENSE? When we shot these, it was around 11am.  In the heart of Town & Country.  People were out and about.  Cars were a-plenty and foot traffic was beyond heavy.  There were passersby milling around us the entire time.  Staring.  Observing.  I even spied one guy who was taking a picture (or snap) of us taking pictures.  Seriously, …

I'm Such A Hypocrite | Sheela Writes

I’m Such A Hypocrite

I really am, you know. Possibly the world’s worse hypocrite.   I’d fully intended to write about a completely different topic today.  But here I am, sharing something very personal.  At the time of this post, my 17 year old daughter Eve is up at Yale attending a workshop.  I was thinking about her (the beginnings of empty nest syndrome, I know) and how much I missed her (I’ll probably need therapy when she goes away to university next year) when I remembered a very crucial turn in our relationship.  The moment I realised I was quite possibly the worst ever role model for her. I’LL EXPLAIN For reasons which only Eve has the right to divulge, she has been seeing a psychiatrist regularly for quite some time now.  I drive her.  We get there.  She goes to the back, where the office is.  I sit out front in the waiting area.  45 minutes later, she returns and we go home.  But a few months ago, something different happened.  This time, Eve emerges 5 minutes …