Author: Sheela Goh

An Unsteady Flicker

Staying inspired. Keeping the flame burning.   I was at mass last Sunday morning, for Easter (the sheer fact it’s taken me over a week to churn out this story should hint at what I’m going to be sharing today), and I somewhat tuned out when the priest began his homily.  I do that sometimes a lot.  Not a very Catholic act but certainly very human.  As he was speaking, I asked myself how someone like Father Troy could remain so passionate and enthusiastic about being a priest.  About his faith.  About saying mass. I mean, at the end of the day, priesthood is still a job.  And with any and every profession, we all fall into a slump every now and again.  Into mental fatigue.  We get jaded and disinterested.  And that fire under our asses goes out. And then all of a sudden, his words pierced through my reverie, “You fall in love with Christ all over again each and every single day.  That’s how you keep things exciting.  And interesting.” NO, THIS …

The Fab 40s Are Princesses For A Day

Of fairytales and princes. Of happily ever afters (or not).   I remember my very first cinematic encounter with an official Disney princess.  Her name was Snow White and the year was 1980.  Throughout the music (who could forget that high pitched voice) and all that animation, one thing stuck in my head.  That I was certainly not going to lay around like a helpless damsel in distress, waiting for my prince to come and set me free.  That I’d rather don my own suit of armour, and rescue myself. I CAN SLAY MY OWN DRAGONS, YO As you’d probably surmise, I have no love for Snow White.  In face, her shrill vocal chords set me on edge and I’m instantly overcome by an animalistic urge to pummel.  Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty too are on my hit list of never-evers. God help me should the day come that I can no longer fight my own battles. Shudder.  Just shoot me and put me out of my misery when that moment arrives. Then came Ariel in …

A Different Perspective

Same story, same tale. Different approach, different results.   After last week’s incident (read: post) about an oh so blatantly discriminating act I was “blessed” to experience first hand, I made my way to the Emuleos show.  Now, a large part of my love for fashion stems from discovering new talent.  Or being introduced to an upcoming designer with a fresh perspective on silhouettes.  Not that my words wield the might that is Susie Bubble, hardly, but in that it fascinates me to no end when something someone authentically different lands on my lap, and my jaded eyes light up at the sight of originality (which, despite how often we recite the word “cyclical” in conversations pertaining to fashion, is very much sought after). Utility Jacket (option, option) | Unicorn Sweater (option, option) | Crop Flared Jeans (option, option, option) | Patchwork Boots (option, option) | Sunnies (option) | Lipstick (Rose)  FASHION MAY BE CYCLICAL BUT ORIGINALITY IS PERPETUALLY TRENDY I arrived at Gary’s Loft and took the lift upstairs without much in the way …

All Should Be Fair In Style & Fashion

But it ain’t so, baby girl. And that’s the sad truth about it.   Whenever I bring up Fashion Week, I’m typically met with blank stares (all of my family and 90% of my friends aren’t “in the industry”).  On occasion, these looks are replaced with comments along the lines of, “Oh wow, how exciting!!” or “Sounds so fun, can I come too?” or “You have the most glamorous life!!“.  Whatever their responses, it’s always the glossy parts that surface.  The bright, fun, glossy part.  Rarely, if ever, does the not so pleasant, not so pretty aspects see the light of day. That’s what my post is about today. And yes, this is what I wore to the first two shows of my very first day at NYFW 2017.  A tried and trusted bomber jacket from the defunct Dereon line, complete with faux fur collar.  A polka dot button down peeking out discreetly from a strapless, bustier dress concocted from vintage fabrics, and festooned with antique, estate finds.  Signature oversized sunnies.  All of which have …

An Eye Opener

Truth on the runways. (Even more) truth on the streets.   Ah, New York Fashion Week.  The special time that comes around only twice a year, where the finest and most extravagant (and sometimes the most ridiculous) creations are sent down the runway – all to the watchful eyes of critics, buyers, stylists and hoards of eager fashionistas. This season, however, it was less about the outlandish, and more about the political.  No, I stand corrected.  It was completely about making a statement. SARTORIALLY & POLITICALLY SPEAKING In as much as (some) of the designs that walked down the runway took my breath away, it was how designers and models and influencers stood united in sending a message about social and political justice (or perhaps a sad lack thereof) that really stood out for me. Because let’s face it, people. Fashion can be one mother of a catty world. Let’s not attempt to sugarcoat things, shall we?  Catty and bitchy and, more often than not, blatantly cruel and manipulative.  And it is precisely because of …

The Fab 40s Create Pop Art

Drawn from popular culture. Celebrating mundane, everyday things.   Pop Art, that is, lauding commonplace objects and people, seeking to elevate these seemingly nondescript things to the level of fine art.  Personally, I wouldn’t put “pop” and “fine” within the same sentence should it pertain to the various categories of art but I’d be the last person to deny how strong an impact the pop art movement has had on fashion and style. A G R E E D ? Campbell’s Soup Cans. Disney’s mighty Mickey Mouse. MISS NORMA JEAN BAKER All these, be they hand-painted or screen-printed, are universally recognisable as juggernauts of the pop art culture.  And what’s particularly interesting to note is that whilst abstract expressionists favoured visually depicting their tormented souls upon canvas, pop artists searched for traces of that very same trauma in the commercial world of advertising, cartoons, and popular imagery at large. To be perfectly honest, I found this challenge quite, well, challenging (gah, Sam, I tossed and turned for quite a few nights, that I did). Aside …

My New York Moment(s)

New York, New York. There’s something about you.   So at the time of writing, I’ve been home from New York Fashion Week for precisely slightly over a week.  I spent survived 6 days in the city during one of its most crazy times.  New York Fashion Week.  Ahhh.  What an experience.  There was the good, the not so good, and the downright ugly.  When things were good, they were very good.  The not so good wasn’t too detrimental, nothing a bruised ego couldn’t recover from.  But when they were ugly, they were really ugly which, thankfully, were few and far between. Over the next few weeks, I’ll be sharing all my New York Fashion Week tales with you.  Hopefully they won’t bore you too much, and yes, expect a gallery of those mandatory “what I wore to NYFW” photos, whilst regaling how I speed-changed my way in between shows!!! G R I N But today is not about that. Today, we’re talking about Project Sister Act.  You know, that monthly gig wherein five to …

The Fab 40s In Leather & Lace

Hard versus soft. Delicate versus not so delicate.   When I wrote this post, my initial thought was to develop something along the lines of contrasts.  You know, the juxtaposition between hard and soft.  Between leather and lace.  That beautiful attraction of opposing textures.  But the more I started reading the headline, the more I began seeing how this could also be interpreted as a gender issue. LET ME EXPLAIN Some time back, I shared my views on Belle’s Emma Watson’s inspiring speech.  My takeaway from her words was a new perspective on how men too are treated.  With bias.  And I’ve maintained that same thought process to this day.  How both genders need to rethink the way they view each other and perhaps, just perhaps, we might get along a little better. Think of it this way. Men are expected to be in possession of their emotions. AT ALL TIMES Generally brought up in the falsehood that showing empathy or vulnerability is a sign of weakness.  That “real” men are tough beasts who never …

Third Wheel & A Link-Up

Odd (wo)man out. An extra person or element.   This entire week, my lady friends Jodie, Nancy, Charlotte, and baby girl Eve, have been showcasing our interpretations of combining red with gold, plus a little somethin’, somethin’.  For instance, on Monday, we kicked things off to a glam start with, well, a touch of opulence to our red with gold garments.  This was promptly followed up with introducing print to the pairing.  Yes, red with gold and a touch of pattern on Wednesday.  And today?  Well, this day, the fifth day of the week (can I get a YAY??), we’re showcasing red and gold with a certain odd fella.  You know.  The odd man (or woman) out.  That third wheel, otherwise also known as the third colour into the mix. THIS IS GOING TO BE A SUCCINCT POST IT’S BEEN VERY HECTIC IN NEW YORK Whilst I won’t be attending shows until Friday (wait, that’s today), since I arrived on Wednesday night, I’ve spent 3 hours with the Zotos team (working on a very special …

Love Thyself

Self care, self love. You seriously owe it to yourself.   Valentine’s Day happens next Tuesday.  A day for couples and singles alike.  For best friends.  Or just good friends.  A day to celebrate that crazy little thing called love and the act of loving.  Why is it then that we always forget one very vital thing? To love ourselves? Self care, self love. It’s a divine responsibility. It’s what you owe yourself, regardless of whether you’re a child of God.  Global citizen.  Wife of John.  Husband to Lily.  Mother of Samuel.  Brother to Kate.  You have a divine responsibility to take care of yourself.  I’d even go so far as to say that you’re honour bound to love yourself. WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN? Granted, those weekly massages or monthly manicure are wonderful treats but that’s not the sort of self-indulging I’m talking about here. It’s about knowing when to say “no“.  And not feeling guilty as sin for uttering that word.  Taking the time to recover, recharge, reboot.  Allowing yourself that moment to …