All posts tagged: forever21

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 …

The Race & A Link-Up | Sheela Writes

The Race & A Link-Up

Life is no longer just a game, It’s a frenzied race to the finish line.   A neverending paper chase, if you will.  Humans on a perpetual hamster wheel.  In search of greener pastures.  Better horizons.  Light at the end of that tunnel.  Take your pick.  How much is enough?  When does the cup start to look half full?  Where do we draw the line between ambition and greed? Do you know? I CERTAINLY DON’T We hustle and we strive, and we put our noses close to the grindstone.  So close we forget to look up and around ever so often.  And I often wonder to what end.  Life has become such a rat race, a form of profound competition wherein we’re prone to (over)compensating our emotional losses with material achievements. We’ve become the modern definition of slaves.  A slave to our deadlines.  A slave to our goals.  To societal expectations.  Money.  To a certain lifestyle. And now, let me put it to you that the harsh reality of things means it requires far more …

Flower Power & A Link-Up

Summer of love, I see no clouds ahead.   There may not be orange Popsicles in this post.  Or lemonade.  And I can’t promise any hippie dippy action nor flowers in anyone’s head.  What I can promise is a new chapter of Project Sister Act.  That movement which encourages women of all ages (from teens all the way to 70s) to thumb their noses up as this nonsensical notion of “age-appropriate dressing“.  Speaking of which, just the other day, I read something which made my blood boil.  Here I am, preaching on repeat mode that style is ageless, that style does not discriminate, and there was this person, stating how glad she was that a certain elderly member of her family was dressing in an age appropriate fashion.  I was astounded. Like hello?? What does that even mean? White Peasant Blouse (Forever21) | Red & Black Floral Leggings (JC Penny) | Floral Mesh Booties & Red Sunnies (Poshmark) | Black & Gold Bucket Bag (Zara) What surprised me the most was how she herself projected …

Being Confident & A Link-Up | Sheela Writes

Being Confident + A Link-Up

What’s wrong with being confident? What’s wrong with being who you really are?   Nothing. Not a single thing. And if that opening line appears familiar, it’s Ms Lovato’s anthem (I love you, Demi).  If it isn’t yours yet, I urge you to give it a go listen. So, I was staring at my blank screen, seeking inspiration to craft the story behind this look.  That’s how it works actually, I look at the photographs, the location, the expressions on my face, something sparks a thought, a memory, and the writing begins.  As I was looking intensely at the laptop, I started humming the song.  Out of the blue.  Although, in my mind, I edited the lyrics a tad.  I hummed, “What’s the matter with being confident, a-haaa!“.  It runs in the family, in fact, this innate ability to revise words/names/songs, as my dad and my brother would attest.  Fact: my mother is very skilled in rebaptising people and renaming roads. I KID YOU NOT. Why the topic “confidence“, you ask? Well, as I said, …

My Guilty Pleasure | Sheela Writes

My Guilty Pleasure

I’ve something to tell you. A dirty little secret I simply must share.   I’m somewhat obsessed with watching the Kardashian/Jenner women in all their faux glory.  It’s a little known guilty pleasure of mine.  Their outbursts and fits of petulance.  The neverending stream of drama permeating their lives on a daily basis, albeit many of which are self-induced, that in turn lead to seemingly irrational acts. (Questionable) style choices.  Mostly that.  Specifically Kourtney (her clothes, her hair), Kylie (damn those elusive lip kits, they’re always sold out) and Kendall (she’s the only one, aside from Kourtney, who doesn’t walk around caked with make-up). Wait, does that make me a groupie? #dontjudge While we’re being honest here, I’ll confess I rather admire Kimmy Cakes.  I don’t quite like her as a person but I respect how she’s built this amazingly lucrative empire.  In fact, I never realised just how sharp she was until I started watching the show (it all began with Bruce becoming Caitlin, I couldn’t stay away).  Witnessing how she consistently repackaged herself/her …

Sunset Years | Sheela Writes

Sunset Years

Ageing and getting older. The golden chapters of one’s life.   It seems I’ve been talking about growing old up quite a bit lately. Could it be I’m beginning to feel the strain of attempting to vinify like fine wine?  I realise there will come a day when sheetmasks can no longer eradicate the aftermath of a scant 3, 4 hours of sleep or (she quietly confesses), the consequences of going to bed without removing the gunk from one’s face.  When the lure of a needle may very well silence the fear of judgement and appeal to the narcissist in me which, I’m well aware, lurks barely below the surface of my vanity. I suspect all these thoughts have to do with several factors, not the least being that end this month, I intend to go for a procedure called CoolSculpting. HOLD THE BULLETS I LOOK CROSS-EYED IN THE FIRST PICTURE GRIN So, yes, hold your fire. It’s been on my mind for some time.  This weight that I’ve gained.  Over the past 12 months, …

Choose To Dress Happy

I wear what makes me smile Puts a swing in my strut   As I get older, I realise I tend to be far more apologetic than I used to be.  What on earth do I mean, you ask?  Well, I often find myself guilty of being somewhat tremulous in the way I approach life and others, particularly those with whom I’m not so well acquainted.  As though I’m apologising for existing, even. I realise how at odds that sounds with the way I’m perceived.  How I look.  How I dress.  I also realise how idiotic I am to even remotely feel that way and that it’s utterly unfounded.  But then again, most concerns and fears veer on the side of irrational, and clearly, mine is no different. So I sat me down and gave myself a pep talk. I shall spare you the details but suffice to say, I emerged victorious. Ha.  But I do want to spend a little time talking about those things which matter.  Things which happen to all of us …

My Technicolour Dream Coat

It was a statement garment A coat of many colours   We all know the potent role colour plays in conveying emotions and thoughts.  In expressing our state of mind at that precise moment.  How strong a tool it can be to drive an opinion home.  But that’s not what this post is focusing on.  Ha.  Got you. D R E A M S That’s what we’re talking about today. For as long as I can remember, I have the most brilliantly coloured dreams.  A spectacular array of hues when it comes to nice ones but an absolute torture when I have nightmares.  Nothing quite like a visual relief to bring those monsters to live 3D action, eh. And I do tend to dream in colour.  Which makes me wonder, how many of us dream in colour, how many in B&W? Does everyone recall their dreams as being vivid with the intensity of a technicolour production?  Wherein the gamut of colours runs from Red to Pink (if pink is for real, of course), Blue to …

Sunny Side Up | Sheela Writes

Sunny Side Up

Half Fry Bina Palti Or Medama Yaki In Japanese   Exotic words which describe the one same thing – a sunny side up.  I kid you not. Have you ever worn something purely for the fun of it?  And not because it was (a) climate appropriate (b) situation appropriate (c) age appropriate (d) just appropriate?  I have to say that personally, I often intentionally go out of my way to wear something which is completely the opposite of what’s expected of me. And for no other reason save to defy convention. E X A M P L E For as long as I can remember, I eschew the colours Red and Pink for the first day of Chinese New Year.  Instead, I’d wear something like Purple or Navy or, for the most part, Black.  Yes, Black is typically frowned upon by the conservative  but as we all know, I’m far from being a traditional Chinese in mentality. Caveat: whenever I wore Black those 15 days of the lunar month, I’d wear jewellery to rival the …

Put A Bow On It

Should you think bows and feathers, I’d be the very last person to come to mind.   And rightly so. Growing up, whenever my mum tried to pretty my ponytails or pigtails with ribbons, I’d snip them off as soon as her back was turned.  That same rule applied to my wardrobe.  Were there any laces or ruffles or trims or bows, a wee snippity snip, and they’d vanish.  Really, really.  Of course, being only 6 or 7 at the time, there were moments of miscalculation which inevitably resulted in what I shall forever lay claim to be strategically placed holes in my clothes.  Poor mum.  She’d wring her hands in despair even as my dad chuckled at the rabid ferocity with which I attacked those decorative binds and ties. Given such a premise, it’s no surprise that over the past 4 decades, I’ve steered very far away from adornments of this nature and given them the widest of berths. Particularly when you recall how vocal I’ve been on the concept of looking cute. Are …