All posts filed under: series

The Fab 40s Take On Plaid | Sheela Writes

The Fab 40s Take On Plaid

Some say Plaid. Yet others say Tartan.   However you call, that criss-cross pattern of horizontal with vertical bands in various palettes (red being most popular, regardless of season) is instantly recognisable by one and all.  And I couldn’t be more delighted that The Fab 40s is showcasing its unique spin on plaid for this month’s edition. I shan’t be writing much today. Every now and again, a sabbatical is required.  To recharge.  Reboot.  Re-energise.  And that too is true where my brain is concerned because, as of Christmas Eve, it has been officially on hiatus.  I kid you not. So for today, please enjoy some truly pleasing eye candy from The Fab 40s and our guest, all in the name of plaid (or tartan, whichever floats your boat).  And let me know which is your fave out of the eight.  I know, it’s a toughie. Plaid Capelet & Bowie Top (thrifted) | Leather Culottes (Forever21) | Spiked Suede Booties (Make Me Chic) | Detective Trench Bag (Gaultier) | Sunnies & Jewellery (Poshmark)  PRESENTING THE …

Christmas Memories, Continued

Christmas is neither time nor season, But rather, a state of mind.   Continuing on from my earlier recollection of Christmas memories in Borneo, there’s one big part of the entire Yuletide celebration that I’d like to share today. THE CRIB Which, in essence, means the nativity scene showing Joseph, Mary and baby Jesus, in the manger, surrounded by livestock, shepherds and the three Kings. Every year since I was maybe 8 or 9, my brother, Joseph, and I would decide on a theme, and then create all the figurines from scratch. We’d work with clay to shape and mould and create. Then the figurines would be laid out under the sun to dry, a process which could take up to several days for the clay to be fully hardened and sturdy. After that came the fun part, the painting. Each figurine would be painted based on the chosen theme. I don’t remember all of them but two have stuck in my mind. One year, we had an Oriental theme going, complete with trimmings fashioned …

The Fab 40s Go Grunge

Stripped down, cool. Flipping the glamour narrative.   Anyone else recall Marc Jacob’s historic grunge collection in 1993 for Perry Ellis?  You know, the own which got him fired which, in turn, led to the conceptualisation and birth of Marc Jacobs, the brand we all know (and worship) today?  It was a ballsy move indeed.  Introducing a sartorial grammar so far removed from the excessive, maximalist life of debauchery of the time, that few understood any of the words uttered, let alone speak it.  A move filled with bravado, yes, and a significant one in the movement we now coin being “fashion mimicking the street“.  I’m fairly confident that concept is not new to most of us. For the next two decades, MJ’s radical grunge runway was emblematic of a collection-before-its-time, a raw, revolutionary response to what was a similarly raw decade. R E N E G A D E    D R E S S I N G The advent of youth culture (as grunge was called in those early days) arrived at the high …

The Fab 40s Go Preppy | Sheela Write

The Fab 40s Go Preppy

Penny loafers. Twinsets. Button-Downs.   I can easily trace my first encounter with the Sloane Ranger look when the late Princess Di entered my world.  It was 1980.  I was but a babe.  Borderline obsessed with royalty and fairy tale endings, with the fascinating world of style, beauty.  Completely intrigued by designers, and their sketches, how they derived inspiration, the process of putting together a collection.  Pinning, draping, the use of muslin, the importance of a signature house dress form. Not much has changed in the past 3 decades, I see. Sloane Rangers, yes.  Or Sloanies.  A recognisable tribe of yuppies that dressed in a manner that was well-bred, slightly above mainstream fashion, and a wee bit posh.  With a predilection for the countryside and, as such, their wardrobe contained reflected this somewhat (glamping, anyone?).  Favourite haunts include Sloane Square in Chelsea, London. It was this outfit in particular worn by Princess Di which has remained in my memory all these years.  The turtleneck.  Corduroy blazer.  Pinstriped pencil skirt.  Shiny, well-polished pumps.  To me, that …

Being Glam & A Link-Up | Sheela Writes

Being Glam & A Link-Up

What does glam mean? An over-the-top outfit perhaps?   Is it wearing sufficient make-up to rival that of a Kardashian?  Or some really well made undergarments that support, lift, and defy gravity?  I mean, really, what constitutes glam?  Looking all dolled up?  Or does it begin with feeling like you’re a million bucks? HAVE WE COME TO ASSOCIATE GLAMOUR WITH A PARTICULAR STYLE? As versus, you know, the impression of attraction (or fascination) that a carefully orchestrated appearance creates?  It could be a luxurious facade.  Or one exuding elegance.  Carefully orchestrated, with much thought and deliberation, to appear completely and utterly effortless.  Contrived nonchalance, if you like, carved to make an impression appear better than it actually is. Garments (thrifted) | Ruffled Collar (A Leap Of Style) (option) | Heels (Bakers) I would argue that it is both. Both the clothes we put on our bodies as well as how we feel.  The sequence of which comes first is, however, fluid.  Sometimes it’s a particular outfit which makes us stand a little taller, shoulders back, …

Old Habits Die Hard & A Link-Up

It’s that ole devil again. You know, the one called Doubt?   I don’t know about you, friend, but of late, I’ve feel as though my soul is under constant siege.  Assailed from all directions by those scheming deviants known as fear and self destruction.  Tell me I’m not the only one who goes through periods of ups and downs where my insecurities are concerned? Here I thought I was finally (FINALLY) letting go of the things which have been holding me back all these years.  Taking (tentative) steps forward.  Headed toward what was hopefully a better place.  Then, boom boom pow.  Out of nowhere, I find myself repeating old patterns, holding desperately clutching onto negative beliefs, letting the opinions and words of others derail my self worth. WORST, NOT TREATING MYSELF WITH LOVE OR RESPECT Dress, gifted (eShakti) (use code “sheelagoh” for 10% off your order) | Suede Heels (Ami Clubwear) | Purple Dior Sunnies, Embellished Black Leather Collar & Rings (thrifted) | Metallic Champagne Leather Cuff, gifted (Unearthed) Tell me that happens even …

The Fab 40s In Hats

I can’t.  It’s impossible. There’s simply no such thing.   I (finally) watched Maleficent last night.  Truthfully, I yearn to exist in a logic-defying world. Somewhere where none are held captive by the confines of normality.  The sort of place where flights of fancy are the norm, rather than the exception.  Wherein the words, “can’t” or “impossible” or the phrase, “no such thing” do not even exist.  I fell in love with Maleficent’s technicolour world as well as all those wondrous beings residing in every nook and corner of the moors.  It’s that very same sensation that flows through me whenever I watch a Harry Potter flick, or any Narnia installment.  An incredible sense of awe and childlike wonder that echoes my childhood.  And I know it stems from being raised on a literary diet of Blyton, Tolkien and Lewis, since I was old enough to recognise my mother’s voice. Sadly, fantasies don’t have that much of a place in everyday life. For the most part, we’re dissuaded from what society terms as “daydreaming”.  In …

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 …

The Fab 40s Go (Mostly) All White | Sheela Writes

The Fab 40s Go (Mostly) All White

 Clean, crisp, chic. What does white say to you?   Across (almost) all cultures and communities, the colour white represents purity, innocence, light.  For many of us, it also symbolises the dawn of a new day.  A fresh start.  Be it from our own sins or the looming, long shadows of those of our fathers.  In these current times of fragility and uncertainty, it would seem only natural for us to harken back to white, to what it stands for. S T R E N G T H Loyalty. Honesty. All things good. Aren’t you as tired as I am to watch the most horrid, torrid happenings on the telly?  Tired and frustrated and sad and angry?  I’ve been told (by a therapist) that my emotions are quite expected under such circumstances.  That I shouldn’t be too hung up over feeling so helpless and trapped.  Apparently, the sensation of being powerless is rather the norm. Still, one can’t help but strain against the cords that bind, and that, my friends, is the honest to God …