Sunday, 1 December 2013

On Whites and Off-whites

Have you ever pondered upon these questions when you’re wearing white?

‘Is my butt dirty?’ ‘OMG did I menstruated on my pants?’ ‘Oh hell no you’re not making me step into that puddle of mud!’ ‘Please food, do not, DO NOT get down and dirty with my tank top!’ ‘OMG F*** you food WHY WHY?!’ ‘Get this stain off me ASAP!’

Because I do. All the time. Well, most of the time.

Not that I produce a weekly long discharge that has an uncanny resemblance to rouge once a month, but don't you think wearing white is such a chore? Having to severely bleach them after a day of wearing, trying to emulate chic with a white bootcut trousers whilst mandatory to step in mud as an act of sacrifice in order to get that shot captioned 'Oh it's white? Whatever, I'm too fab for this'. Having kicked in paranoia of 'Omg will I be clumsy and spill?' forcibly ruins your good meal at some posh restaurant. Yet, many still opt to wear blanc.

Why? Tell me why?

Former picture's of me (#obviously) in a lightweight tee from Topshop, Uniqlo shorts, Zara camel-toned blazer (not to be confused with camel-toe) scored from a sale and my trustworthy 3.1 Phillip Lim that creased gracefully under my care (which includes over-stuffing the bag with too much nonsensical products, tossing it around like a boss and throwing it on the floor when I get home).

The image preceding the former is where I've decided to head down to town unexpectedly in a white tank top from Zara, H&M off-white embroidered jeans from it's Spring Summer collection that makes me look like I have a big crotch and blue velvet flats from Charles & Keith.

The third projects me as stealing the Alexander McQueen butterfly printed clutch (which, by the way, I bought it instead of committing theft),the same tank top as aforementioned (it just coincidentally happened) and in the sleek Isabel Marant pour H&M biker trousers that made my legs sweat like pigs on fire. I'm not even kidding.

And eventually rounding off the image parade with one that shows me (again, I know, boring..)  in a Givenchy-esque tee from Zara, Topshop denim berms cutoffs, Buffalo wedge sneakers from the mens (I know, right?!?!) and a widest brim fedora which obnoxiously hits people in the face whilst blocking their three quarters of their view.

Probably white emulates clean and minimalism, therefore chic? It's for you to argue.

Images done by Wayne & Imran

Tuesday, 26 November 2013

Blinded by the Label

So just before you guys think that I've vaporized from the surface of the Earth, or maybe even kidnapped by some random unforseen/undiscovered alien life-form, I shall drop you guys a 'Hi, I'm actually still alive' notification.

Before I go about ranting my mandatory yet repetitive and repulsive excuse of I-don't-have-time-because-of-the-army, let me throw you guys a question. Guess where I got my shirt from.

Come on, guess it!

No prizes for winning though.

It's from A.P.C. costing three hundred and thirty dollars to be exact. And to be frank, I have no idea what does the acronym A.P.C. represents (I just googled/wikipediaed it, it means Atelier de Production et de Création, which oh, it's a French label), nor who the designer(s) are in particular.

But I mean, it's A.P.C. right??

How many times have you guys been, or if you know of anyone in particular, blinded by the label? Once? Twice? Thrice? Or maybe countless times where your fingers and toes are rendered useless in your mathematical calculation? Why, why would I spend three hundred and thirty exact dollars for a basic sky blue shirt which I could have probably scored it in H&M for thirty dollars? For A.P.C.? For the brand well know for it's minimalistically articulate garments? I could've saved three hundred dollars!

My friend and I were just discussing about a girl (who happens to be a mutual acquaintances of mine, knowing each other's existence but not to a personal level) who's deeply enthused by The Label, in which she would starve go on a diet just to purchase, let's say, a Marc Jacobs purse, because of the block letters 'Marc by Marc Jacos' embossed at the top front of the purse.

'Doesn't she know the joy of munching on ramen and savory sashimi?' I asked in bewilderment (don't ask me why my conversation was all about Japanese food).

'She's blinded by the label. She can't be saved because she believes that the label would bring her social status up', my friend replied.

Social status? Seriously? What's social status? I couldn't care less as I further slurp down my cha soba. If I were to teeter a purse around because it's marked with 'Alexander Wang', which would then heighten my social status, gain popularity and exude pseudo-wealth, I would be a total sl*t to the designer.

But is that the only reason why individuals are so obsessed with The Label, till the fact that they were willing to forsake mandatory activities like eating? But I mean, diet, weight control, hey wadduppp. I can't fault her for that.

What about local designers now? Would she choose to purchase an internationally known label embossed cowhide duffle bag plastered for a thousand dollars, or would she go for an exotic skin bag similarly shaped in duffle, that is priced half of that, but from a local - aka not (yet) branded worldwide - designer (I'm talking about that Ling Wu bag OMG I died)? Hey, you can buy two bags sweetie.

Before I go about criticizing people that would eventually make a big turn and hit me back in the face, shirt's from aforementioned A.P.C., shorts from Topman as mentioned in my below post and bag's from Phillip Lim.

Fun fact: the shirt was actually bought from a sale for fifty. I wouldn't spend three hundred and thirty for a shirt. And I lied. I did know A.P.C. is French.

Images done by Gladys on iPhone 5C because I couldn't be bothered trotting around with a DSLR

Monday, 23 September 2013

The Worn-to-Death Shorts

As I further procrastinate my blogging (I know, it's a very long hiatus) whilst giving a legit (and omnipresently used) excuse of 'Omg my life is really busy right now I ain't got no time', I've decided to, you know, just drop by to make a quick visit - and update - over here, as demanded begged asked by two of my friends.

'Since you're at home today with a MC, why not do some blogging?', my first friend asked me, over the overly usage of app technology, aka Whatsapp in short.

So this rendered me to go through all my photographs from the past, the #ootds and the what-i-wores and everything (obviously I'm not in a good shape to take a fresh ootd shot right now), with all the wrecking of brains to come up with a new post idea, sourcing and editing, coupled with me having tissue stuck up my nose and coughing that is synonymous to a dinosaur burping, I was finally enlightened. I saw the light.

Yes, The Light.

A post about a Worn-to-Death piece.

I know, above are only two images of me in a gorgeous paisley printed tailored shorts from Topman, which yes, the print can't really be seen from here, but how does this justify my point of Worn-to-Death? Provided the fact that you guys actually know I've worn this shorts immediately on the next day of purchase, which followed by having it consecutively strapped around my bottom for 2 weekends straight. Talk about hygiene reasons, but here's a fun fact about me, I never wash my bottoms at all. And by bottoms I don't mean my butt.

Alright, just kidding, I wash some of them. Maybe the denim ones only. But lesbi honest, I'm not going to take the plunge of having the print fade after one wash, which would rendition me to bring out another eighty bucks to purchase another piece, with the risk of not having it in my size.

Anyways, the first image was done on a Saturday, where I casually felt like going for a swim in the pool (which turns out to be only a dip and splashing of water because the water was icy cold). I mean, doesn't a soft chambray, short sleeved denim shirt paired with a strappy sandals just screams 'I'm going for a swim!!!!!' No? Alright, just check out my Victoria Secrets-esque legs then.

The latter is then done on the next day (aka on Sunday) where I explored backyards and have finally decided that I should help out to the society by cleaning up garbage with the cleaner at the back. Just kidding, he was photo-bombing me, and I was out to grab some awesome brunch over at Mad Nest. So, what says better than having a soft cotton red shirt, paired with an awesome velvet studded flats that constantly gave wounds to my ankles and a Carrie Bradshaw meets Abu Dhabi clutch?

Former: Shirt's from Topshop, Sandals are from Charles & Keith and the bag is from a lovely local designer Michelle of A Paperbag Project (they're handmade by the way).

Latter: Shirt's from Zara Mens, Shoes are from River Island and Antik Batik Clutch

Okay, that is all. Till I see you guys, maybe in another millennium? I don't know either.

Images from my iPhone

Sunday, 4 August 2013

Let's Talk Denim

Denim. An item that is always overly exploited by everyone because of its simplicity, yet providing substantial casual chic-ness in one's ensemble.

Was that a good opening statement? (Hahaha!)

Recently, not only I have been neglecting this space much, but I'm also resonating towards denim (and more denim), and I don't even know why. Reminisce three weeks back: Stepping out of Zara with bags and bags of clothes on 'Sale' that consists of only acid wash baggy jeans, ripped boyfriend denim and a light chambray denim shirt. Is it because denim is such a staple, that it provides efficacious and effortless casual chic look that I adore? Or is it because that I'm heavily influenced by The Man Repeller, till I'm impersonating her subconsciously? Either way (which I eventually conceded that it is both the reasons, and maybe even more), I know that being proprietary of the overflowing yet pseudo synonymous denim (they come in different shade, textures and cutting. None are exactly similar) would result me in stacking them together.

Above images: Me (as the top model) in a denim - with gorgeous embroidery at the back which cannot be seen sadly - shirt with a relaxed fit jeans. And you've guessed it right, it's all from Zara (apparently I believe they are one of the best high street retailers when it comes to denim production). Oh and wait, here's toast to another denim meets denim attire with a soft, chambray denim tee overlayed with a roughly edged denim shorts. And yeah, they're from Zara too. Just kidding, the former's from Topshop whilst the latter's from Topman (with my DIY, trimming an old jeans to shorts) respectively. I'm not really that of a Zara whore. Okay okay I have to confess, the jacket's from Zara.

Oh yeah, just in case I were to forget, the shoes are Doc Marts and Superga (2750 in Green Pine) respectively. But I highly doubt that you could see them in the above images.

But how boring can your #ootd go with just denim on denim, and on more denim only? With me dressing up in denim only (whilst others as well too), have I gone back to the 50s? Is denim the new black? Or is denim the self-proclaim (aka me) new black? So in order to compensate my overly abuse of denim (or some pseudo denim as well), I came up with the idea of let's-just-wear-denim-shorts-and-pair-it-up-with-something-so-I-don't-lose-my-#fashionstylist-capabilities.

Figure three: Me (again) in a pair of ripped, light denim shorts which I hastily purchased (as usual) from Topman, because I didn't have a pair of ripped, light denim shorts! Is this reason legit enough? Because as a matter of fact, it is indeed true. While I put on my American Apparel beanie that has been hackneyed (similar to thinking caps) and channel my inner stylist (alter ego), I've decided that it should go with this 'Loser' pullover I got off the sale racks at Topman few months back, and finally putting my Jeffrey Campbell kicks to use. Yes, call me a loser, but seriously, I don't care, because I'm happy that I'm impersonating the Man Repeller (my usual mantra).

Yup, that's pretty much it. Till then, I hope to source for the perfect dark denim jeans (Which I conveniently saw it in Zara racks for 109 bucks, man!). Or maybe I should also get a cut offs from Levi's. Hmmm...

Imran & Wayne as photographer

Friday, 21 June 2013

Phillip Lim Resort 2014

So... I know I haven't been diligently posting up substantial content (which comprises of my daily weekly #ootds and my favorites from season collections) recently. But I have an excuse. In fact two. One being the repetitive I-am-in-a-conscript-army-thus-I-lack-the-time-to-do-so while the other being having to spend more time with my new counterpart (yes, I literally failed to man repel). Whilst I am awake right now at eight in the morning (due to my adjusted body clock to wake up at five thirty every morning) actively thinking of the number of outfits I can create with the banana jacket I received last week from Topshop, I came to a conclusion that this post has to be arisen. So obviously, one of the pieces that I thought would go well with that flamboyant jacket was, my all time favorite garment. The Trousers. That is when I reminisced my escapade.

'Why not share the love I saw on Phillip Lim's website a week ago? Hopefully this will compensate my lack of #ootds.'

Well, really, I hope so.

So I hastily saved the images I deem to be immaculate and conspicuous (I am always with the 'Go big or go home' motto), got them resized and collaged on photoshop, and ta-da! The above images were born (still trying to claim it as part of my own 'creation' but we all know, I took them off from Phillip Lim's webpage). And obviously I was fascinated by Phillip Lim's resort collection this season (next, technically speaking), otherwise I wouldn't be writing a post about this.

Anyway, back to what I was doing: a week ago.

'I should really start my diligent saving regime soon, for that colbalt mini Pashli', I thought to myself, 'Or maybe I should just take another glimpse at it on the website and die in it's epitome of perfection.'

As I clicked on the webpage, there was this sudden uncontrollable force that led me to click on their Collection page. Which eventually led me to be staring at their Resort 2014 collection.

'Omg, I need that, and that, and that', I mellowed, but at the same time, I weltered, 'That must be a hefty price to pay for those trousers!' (Insert a teary face here)

The metallic leathery sheen effect slapped me hard, against my cheeks when those images started flashing towards my face. I was definitely baffled (well obviously), since my crave for a metallic, and slouchy trousers was satisfied. Not to mention those that are of two toned. I literally died, went to heaven and resurrected.

So upon my resurrection, I told myself this: 'I need to start saving up, and stop spending. For the golden pair of trousers. For that trousers.'

I wonder if the aforementioned wish would be satisfied for not...

P/S: Just found out that it costs 980 euros... So yeah...

Images from 3.1 Phillip Lim's webpage.

Sunday, 16 June 2013

The DPP: Delirious Print Problem

There's something je ne sais quoi about my maniacal affection for prints. Not that I intended to insert a french word in my opening sentence I recently encountered (it means something that cannot be expressed in words) to make my post more polish and accentuate (a lie), but yes, there's just this je ne sais quoi feel to something I really adore. Which in this case is prints. Don't you guys feel the same way too, for the objects you really admire and signify a strong meaning to you? It can maybe be your pet dog (or any other pets), or like your mum's earrings that would eventually become your family heirloom, or your first pair of designer bag (for mine, it's my A Wang Rockie and I have been dyinggg, I repeat, dying with three gs). There will just be this sense of unexplainable connection between you and that particular item. No?

Now let's get back to the clothes. I know you guys are dying to know where they're from. Don't you? Because I know I will, and I am too.

In clockwise direction, the usual:

1. Thom Browne Whale Blazer (I swear I think I have this affinity with animal prints - albeit adorable ones only - because there's like this sudden influx of them in my closet)

2. Topshop Banana Print Jacket (scream "ZOMG" now because I did, died and resurrected), which I had no god-damn patience and checked it off the cart almost instantaneously.

3. Zara Beaded Clutch. Something you can only put 3 cards, a phone, your keys and maybe some cash.  Maybe your lipgloss too.

4. Rebecca Minkoff Embroidered Bootcut Trousers, which I was almost compelled to buying it when I saw the Man Repeller werqing it effortlessly.

5. Ray Ban via ASOS, you always need that pair of statement sunnies. Always.

6. Charlotte Olympia Popcorn Bag, not that I know what this textile is since it's the bag is entirely homogenous to a popcorn.

And lastly, 7. Shakuhachi Gypsy Chelsea Bootie via Solestruck.

So tell me, who could resist such a plethora of fashion amazon? Are you tempted? 

Images from Google, ASOS, Net-a-Porter, Topshop, Zara and Solestruck

Saturday, 15 June 2013

Isabel Marant x H&M


Can we really, just take a moment of silence for this?


Okay, that's it. I literally went bonkers when I found out that Isabel Marant is going to collaborate with H&M, via the Man Repeller! I couldn't believe my eyes. My mouth was left there, wide hanging (with saliva dripping all over due to my perplex mix jubilant, albeit disgusting but, ohwell), eyes literally bulging out and screaming 'OMG OMG OMG' whilst publicizing it all over social media. This was one of the best news that I've ever received after my 6 days of field camp (which includes sleeping outdoors, not being able to bathe, nor any access to internet thus rendering me to be delayed with this much anticipated news). Below is the video. Just watch it. And die in awesomeness.

I've died. Did you? Tell me you did.

Image from H&M, video from Youtube