Shorts for work? Oh goodness!! Scandalous!!   Fashion has always been my favourite form of escapism.  Reading, writing, dancing, sketching.  They all come a close second.  But fashion.  Fashion has, is, and will always be the tabernacle upon which I worship.  Religiously.  Since I was 6 years old to be precise.  Since I caught sight of my very first Issey Miyake piece.  And then laid my hands upon a coffee table book cataloguing what goes into the creation of a collection, courtesy of the god known as Bruce Oldfield (shamefacedly I confess to pinching this from the British Council library).  From then on, I was fairly obsessed with all things style and fashion-related.  Mostly European, primarily British the likes of Zandra Rhodes, Jasper Conran, Vivienne Westwood, Arabella Pollen, Philip Treacy. Life in Kuching was a bit of a bubble. A complete style bore.  Yawn. Far and away from the fashion world or cultural meccas like Paris, New York, Milan, London or Tokyo.  I used to think of it as a fashion wasteland.  And it is …

Sprucing up the shirtdress. Making it fancy, schmancy, but still wearable.   I struggled with this month’s theme, shirtdresses.  I truly did, Dee.  Can’t lie.  And I don’t even know why that was so because I used to wear them.  All the time.  Perhaps the operative words, “used to” were a telling means to explain my conundrum.  Conversely, my mental block made no sense whatsoever given (1) the frequency with which shirtdresses had permeated my wardrobe in the past; and (2) their undeniable mega “slay” factor. In my 20s, I practically lived in shirtdresses all the work week long.  Mostly in jersey so I didn’t have to iron them and mainly in blacks or browns.  Yes, I spent over three decades decked out primarily in black, channeling Mama Rei and bringing out The Crow in me.  As such, one would think I would’ve had an easy peasy time pulling together a look based on a button-down garment but that was not the case, my friends. T I M E T O S H I R …