Siri Svegler’s “Their Wine”

Everyone needs a perfect new summer song to brighten the day. I listen to it every morning!

Picture accredited to TourismPicks.

I came back from Bangkok recently after a wonderful stay and to make the others jealous with envy, I started the flying emails trail to declare my godly purchases. One thing led to the next and suddenly, everyone wanted to have their own share of retail success and decided on a whim to go after this highly addictive form of possessive happiness.

And just like that. Only two days after I returned from Bangkok, I paid a hefty and exorbitant sum to put myself on another flight for the end of March. Hopefully it will also suffice to say that the amount I paid for this one trip could have allowed three more under normal unhurried circumstances but I am always one given to impulse. I needed little cajoling to put myself on a plane so that all five of us could go on our first vacation together in the fifteen years we knew each other. If the married could sacrifice and ditch their kids to the husbands, I could most certainly ditch the money to the money-grubbing airline and try hard not to mind. Think about it! A few days of pretending we are the carefree girls we used to be in a different land, smelling different air, eating different food!

A glorious and liberating thought.

So the trip had come and gone and we are now back to typing flying emails with our fingers moving rapidly across the keyboards once again. But I secretly hugged the little bits and pieces of memories of us dragging our tired (and tired is a gross understatement) feet and shopaholic minds as we weaved through the market crowd in front of Baiyoke Sky every morning to go for the delicious wanton-mee and succulently soft pig trotters before embarking on the very sacred mission aimed at dressing us well and below our age.

The streets of Bangkok are putrid with stagnated water. The weather was unbearably warm at times, with beads of perspiration destroying our vestige of shield against the merciless sun. Closely knitted stalls with cardboard signs generated massive human traffic at the day markets and night bazaars. The lorries ferrying the red army waving their flags seeking political democracy can be intimidating but amidst all these …. the knowledge of being in somewhere different with a lifestyle you can choose to abide by makes Bangkok a very attractive city. There are things that everyone of all ages could find delight in — be it the chic youths glorying in the fashion efforts of local designers or the gourmands enjoying the simplicity of a meal at a roadside stall, the 100 baht polo tee-shirts specifically with a front pocket the way my father likes them and finally down to the Thai rice crackers coated with pork floss and preserved mangoes that my mother covets, there is something about Bangkok and in Bangkok that pleases.

The above 2 pictures are accredited to BAHighLife.

Or perhaps .. it was the odd drifting tinge of lemongrass and spicy aroma that envelops our beings, heightened our senses, increases our desire to be adventurous .. making us want to stay.

… gave us morning coffee to perk us up.

… landed us at the metro right outside Moulin Rouge.

… afforded us a view of the Basilique du Sacré-Cœur, pristinely waiting on a hilltop.

… sent us carousel horses to ride.

… showed us Paris.

… made sure we could always find the light, to lead us home in the darkest night.

… sold us the cheapest and most delicious warm nutella-banana crepes.

… tempted us with churros even though we filled ourselves out twice over.

The best of the rest is this char kway teow. At a hefty price of 8.50 ringgit a plate for the biggest plate (which is really not big at all), we would have screamed foul if it hadn’t been so incredibly, mindblowingly tasty. It was the first stop of the day and set the precedent for every single meal after. At the end of the day, it won the unanimous vote of championship from our 6 greedy mouths.

We were told that there is a good wanton mee and hor fun store just down the road from where the char kway teow is but we didn’t know how near we were. It was barely 2 minutes before we sat down again in a different kopitiam no less and continued ordering.

The texture of the noodles in Penang is different from the ones in Singapore. The noodles here were springy and bouncy, a product of it being well-made and well-cooked. You know how noodles turn into a starchy lump when overcooked? These noodles are what I’ll like to call as well-defined but it’s probably the wrong term for it. The gravy of the hor fun is a little too starchy for my taste but overall, they are delicious. For one, I am impressed by the number of bones stewing away in the broth to give them the flavour.

Tzi Char, a mix of vermicelli and noodles, stir-fried.

Prawn noodles with hardly discernable prawns but the soup base is amazing.

I am not a big fan of assam laksa but I ate because it is one of the signature dishes of Penang.

Succulent, barbecued chicken wings but the ones in Singapore could be as good.

This wanton mee is cooked in a dark soy sauce as compared to the one we had earlier.

I really got the necklace form of the “Three Wise Owls” but I can’t find an image of it. I am a sucker for heart shapes and lockers and bows and a combination of all three made it a must-have and kills the pocket. The three wise owls sitting sedately in a row, for some reason, made me think of Hedwig in Harry Potter and because owls are in the IN-birds since 2009. No one hardly ever makes woodpecker or magpie accessories so owls must be good.

All “By Invite Only” accessories are packaged individually with a vintage reproduction postcard-lookalike as a backdrop.

They are also available at Polymath & Crust and BlackMarket.

I especially like posts which correlates clothes and fashion with thoughts — linking them to the surroundings, harmonizing them with culture, tempering two wildly diverse natures into one, not unlike something like this. A good example would be the way how Rebecca Bloomfield (Confessions of a Shopaholic) gained popularity with “The Girl in the Green Scarf” column in Successful Savings — being able to strike up a similarity between fashion and investment. I’ve never been a dismal dresser. Sloppy yes but never in a dismal way. You’ll never go wrong with basics. You’ll never manage to look wrong in a plain black tee with a good cut and a pair of fitting jeans and I’m waiting for someone to prove me wrong. You might look common but no, never wrong. And sometimes, being wrong might just turn out .. unexpectedly right. You only have to look at Anna Piaggi to know. I know how you might beg to differ and proclaim that Fashion can never be wrong since it’s a right to express. But tell me honestly, have you never looked at anyone walking along the streets and think to yourself “Gee, it’s so wrong!”. I know I have and I am ashamed of it. Since I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing it doesn’t mean that others with more courage than I have shouldn’t. And that is what fashion unbiasness is about.

Who came up with what’s right in the world to wear anyway?

Anna Piaggi by The Sartorialist

This year, I have tried a little more actively to dress up. In the past and even for the most part of now, I would never bother to dress up much if it’s only for work. If I’m going out with friends after or attending some party, that’s a different story. Being in a job that allows maximum creativity and flexibility with no requirement of powersuits in the least (but draws the line at shorts), I am very lucky and should rightfully be capitalizing that right to its maximum potential. But I have not. If I know that I am going to meet very few people, I’ll not turn up in my best. I’ll probably just lug on whatever I see first in the mountain of clothes. I still don’t think it’s wrong because this method of dressing applies to possibly more than half the population living in Singapore.

People like my mother had told me repeatedly since young that it is nice to be able to dress well but it is unnecessary to if one doesn’t have the means. As long as the clothes are kept clean and tidy with no holes, we should never be ashamed to appear in them. I have always scoffed at the idea (not in my mother’s face of course unless I feel a desire to be whipped) but now that I am blogging about it, I think my mother is a more exemplary example of being more fashion unbiased than I am. Or maybe she is truly wise because Albert Einstein said the same.

If most of us are ashamed of shabby clothes and shoddy furniture, let us be more ashamed of shabby ideas and shoddy philosophies…. It would be a sad situation if the wrapper were better than the meat wrapped inside it.

I suppose that I do know inwardly that clothes do not make a flawed person more beautiful except externally just like how a beautiful face is only a pleasure to the eyes and a repulse to the soul should it come along with a mean spirit. But I’ve never been confident enough without appearing excessive because “just around the corner in every woman’s mind – is a lovely dress, a wonderful suit, or entire costume which will make an enchanting new creature of her”. Most people silently attest to the fact that fat people let themselves go even if they do not spell it out for the fear of being labelled ‘insensitive’. Yet I could see it in their eyes. And the fact that most fat people appear dowdy, unfashionable and slightly greasy strengthened that belief. You might be enraged at my generalization but I am not another stick-thin creature who rants but does not understand. I belong to the world of fat. But god knows I’ve struggled hard in order not to be another statistic to the mounting perception. The country I live in is also not very forgiving to the plus-sized. We have few alternatives to allow ourselves to dress properly, much less to wear them well. We have to shy away from the shiny windows of shopping centres and trawl the lesser known areas that sell clothes that fit and usually these clothes are meant for the aged and have no style to speak of. There are no pleats, cinched waists, form-fitting cuts, cute skirts, appropriate details, delicate tulle to speak of. Fat Fashion is synonymous to a tablecloth with a a hole for the head and two holes for the arms. I find it insulting that we are treated with less dignity so because of this pride, I cannot possibly let myself go. In recent years, we have been a lot better in this part of the world. At least, we are starting to see Dorothy Perkins which runs up to Size 20 and Topshop and Miss Selfridge which brought up their sizes from 14 to 16. Then there is New Look. Little independent stores start to carry passably fashionable items so we are in a much better shape than what would have been 5 years ago except that Dorothy Perkins, Topshop, Miss Selfridge, New Look all hail from UK and could be expensive for those who do not earn nearly enough.

Now and then, I think I’ll add in my blog some cost-saving fashion ideas for the horizontally-challenged tested by yours truly because even though we’re fat, we should not be taken lightly. We should be allowed to live well and present our best to who we are trying to impress.

People seldom notice old clothes if you wear a big smile. — Lee Mildon

Let’s start first by accessorizing with a big smile!

On calling back the aforementioned said person, she asked me excitedly if I have anything on tomorrow and if I’ll go Penang with them. Take note that they gave me exactly 12 hours notice. It so happened that a girl who was to go on the trip tomorrow backed out but the accommodation and air ticket was already paid for. Therefore, I just have to pay SGD 60 for “administrative purposes” and top up the difference for the then purchased ticket and the current price which is SGD 48 to go. And so after some deliberation, I agreed even though I envisaged a relaxing weekend just lazing in bed for prolonged period. This was to be the last trip, at least for quite awhile for the travelling group, as 2 of our friends are going back to Canada.

I packed some clothes and a few toiletries and left the rest to them to make the name change with Tiger Airways. We had to make any name change 4 hours in advance but it was already 10+ in the evening and Tiger Airways call centre had already closed for the day. Their opening hour is at 9 a.m. which means we definitely couldn’t make the name change in time for the flight due at 9.50 a.m. So a little disappointed after all the worked-up hype, I unpacked everything again.

In the midst, my friends called again.

This time, they told me in more words than I am going to explain here that they would really enjoy my company and would like me to join them which means they are going to get a new ticket for me and topped up the SGD 100 difference. I was feeling really embarrassed and offered to pay them back but they wouldn’t hear of it. And so the ticket had been booked, things finalized and I am going to Penang in a few hours. It touched me no end about the things that good friends would do for you and for the pleasure of your company. I am glad to have such friends by me and this entry is testimony that I am very grateful indeed.

I supposed I started taking notice of love letters written by well-known men to their lovers after that — in every movie I saw, every book I read and every mention in papers as long as it was delivered in a honeyed tone. Yes, I’ve had love letters written to me in my younger days. Though our love is gone and we’re no longer in touch, the little notes of yesteryears remained sacred and precious in a box. Though diabetically sweet in words and more so knowing that the man who loved me had such a romantic soul, it was still no comparison to the exulted adoration pinned down in words by the well-known men with the likes of John Keats and Beethoven. Reading their love letters require a strong heart because mine goes into exaggerated palpitations and feels like bursting into fireworks everytime I do (and the letters are not meant for me!). If there is a way one could possibly die from sweetness without the consumption of sugar, this would be it.

The third letter from Ludwig van Beethoven to the Immortal Beloved:

Though still in bed, my thoughts go out to you, my Immortal Beloved, now and then joyfully, then sadly, waiting to learn whether or not fate will hear us – I can live only wholly with you or not at all – Yes, I am resolved to wander so long away from you until I can fly to your arms and say that I am really at home with you, and can send my soul enwrapped in you into the land of spirits – Yes, unhappily it must be so – You will be the more contained since you know my fidelity to you. No one else can ever possess my heart – never – never – Oh God, why must one be parted from one whom one so loves. And yet my life in V is now a wretched life – Your love makes me at once the happiest and the unhappiest of men – At my age I need a steady, quiet life – can that be so in our connection? My angel, I have just been told that the mailcoach goes every day – therefore I must close at once so that you may receive the letter at once – Be calm, only by a calm consideration of our existence can we achieve our purpose to live together – Be calm – love me – today – yesterday – what tearful longings for you – you – you – my life – my all – farewell. Oh continue to love me – never misjudge the most faithful heart of your beloved.
ever thine
ever mine
ever ours

From John Keats to Fanny Brawne:

This moment I have set myself to copy some verses out fair. I cannot proceed with any degree of content. I must write you a line or two and see if that will assist in dismissing you from my Mind for ever so short a time. Upon my Soul I can think of nothing else – The time is passed when I had power to advise and warn you again[s]t the unpromising morning of my Life – My love has made me selfish. I cannot exist without you – I am forgetful of every thing but seeing you again – my Life seems to stop there – I see no further. You have absorb’d me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving – I should be exquisitely miserable without the hope of soon seeing you. I should be afraid to separate myself far from you. My sweet Fanny, will your heart never change? My love, will it? I have no limit now to my love – You note came in just here – I cannot be happier away from you – ‘T is richer than an Argosy of Pearles. Do not threat me even in jest. I have been astonished that Men could die Martyrs for religion – I have shudder’d at it – I shudder no more – I could be martyr’d for my Religion – Love is my religion – I could die for that – I could die for you. My Creed is Love and you are its only tenet – You have ravish’d me away by a Power I cannot resist: and yet I could resist till I saw you; and even since I have seen you I have endeavoured often “to reason against the reasons of my Love.” I can do that no more – the pain would be too great – My Love is selfish – I cannot breathe without you.

I thought it was very considerate of John Keats to burn the letters Fanny Brawne gave him. Others said this was done so that she would not be compromised in the days where it would result in a terrible scandal and destroying her reputation but as usual, the idealist in me believes that the act was committed to ensure that the letters were for his eyes only.

One day, I would write a love letter too — in that degree and magnitude.

I’ve read some Nick Hornby and the fact that he did the screenplay for “An Education” piqued my interest. “An Education” is based on an autobiographical memoir of the same title written by the British journalist, Lynn Barber. The fact that you can read the synopsis in Wikipedia means I don’t have to write one.

In Jenny Miller (Carey Mulligan), I saw some of her in the old me but yet differing by a sizeable measure. She wanted to read English at Oxford, I wanted to study English at no matter where. She wanted to fly free and look at the world, wear black in Paris and babble French — exactly every inch of me. She thought she knew it all and the excitement of truly living (or so she and I thought) at that moment was worth giving up everything for. When she had the chance to go to classical concerts, suppers, auctions and finally even to the land, she always wanted to be in, Paris, with her beau, David Goldman (Peter Sarsgaard), it was a dream-come-true. He was whisking her away from the boring existence of school life and suffocating familial rules like a whirlwind.

From her soft, brown eyes, we saw her regarding her environment with wondrous rapture and artless guile. From the time she met him with her in the rain, her shoulder length hair limp and dripping, school uniform clinging lifelessly about her to her gradual transformation that involves womanly floral frocks, beautifully-cut coats and carelessly done-up chignons, she is but a girl disguised. When he left cowardly when confronted about his marriage, she braved up to straighten things, something I wished I had the courage to do now that I look back (and no, my situation did not involve a married man). It wouldn’t do to give up, she doesn’t run away and hide to cry. She carried on to fulfill her purpose. She had by then discarded the disguise and assumed back her preppy identity.

In the last scene of her riding with a male student in Oxford, she narrates:

So, I went to read English books, and did my best to avoid the speccy, spotty fate that Helen had predicted for me. I probably looked as wide-eyed, fresh, and artless as any other student…But I wasn’t. One of the boys I went out with, and they really were boys, once asked me to go to Paris with him. And I told him I’d love to, I was dying to see Paris…as if I’d never been.”

Oh and definitely read Lynn Barber’s “My Age of Innocence” at Times-Online.

We are booked for Kings of Convenience and Pink Martini in March for the Mosaic Music Festival!

For those who have no idea, Mosaic Music Festival is an annual event showcasing a good mix of international artists at the Esplanade. So far they have brought to Singapore the Kings of Convenience once before, Si*Se, The Album Leaf, Jason Mraz, Rachel Yamagata etc. This year, we’ll have Babyface, Vashti Bunyan, Melody Gardot, Au Revoir Simone lined up and tickets can be bought from Sistic.

Hope to see you there too,
Ana & The Merry Traveller