“A woman’s perfume tells more about her than her handwriting.” –Christian Dior
Vermillion Imagination;
J, E and I gathered for a happy game of Imaginiff at Pitstop Cafe on a Saturday evening – Imaginiff was quite a fun game… with questions being asked of players like… “If your pal was a dessert, what kind of dessert would he be? If he was a breakfast, would he be a big breakfast of bacon and eggs, a New York Post newspaper and coffee, fruit and yoghurt, or nothing at all? etc. It was so fun figuring out personalities and predictions. As usual, the boys failed to guess me out. I don’t like koalas and I will continue to cry for two months over a bunny rabbit if I knock it down. I will also rather read a newspaper than play with my child first thing in the morning. Live with it!
Polaroids of gamers who came before us adorning the wall!
In terms of personalities…I think E will be a family sedan, J is a dune buggy, and I am most definitely a Red Ferrari!
E being intense.
Some more happy pictures from our last Bigwood Mystery performance too! I love PB in his Huangdi costume too, tres adorable. We are a motley crew and walked out of my imagination.
Murders were rad.
Anna Karina – Jamais je ne t’ai dit que je t’aimerai toujour
I love this song so much and it describes the female psyche so much. Especially the delightful ending!
So fun!! Although my fate-line is short…at least it is a little point on my hand.
Irving, when you come, we have to dance like this all around the island! You have to do the twirl with me! Please watch and MASTER the video VERY carefully. Haha!
And if you complain, please note that at least I did not tell you to learn this one:
Ce Soir ou Jamais!
Juliette on Tombstones;
It’s been a passage of time since the last entry – I use ‘passage’ as it seems as though so much has happened, romping through the good times like a little joyous foal! It is my country’s National Day and so I hear little children singing songs in the background, and I remember my childhood days swinging little flags.
I met up with S and A last week in Arab Street- and fell in love with the stranger streets, the way we could slip up to a random restaurant and find Morrocan lamb dishes with all sorts of tea that taste like the same apple concoction. A rendered us with beautiful stories of Nepal and trekking. She also introduced me to Yasunori Kawabata, a Nobel prize winner in literature pretty much unknown to me, but the poignant titles stir a little something in me of many things said in very little words. S’s conception of beauty is newly bound up in a mermaid, and we talked about living in Japan and hiding away. These are two of the people I love the most in the world – and listening to the soft curls of A’s laughter (”kikikiki”) and the clip of her bangles (Scottish, even if they are ethnic, she says) seems to stir something magical. It feels sometimes that the time spent in between meeting such people as A and S is sleeping time – and the secret part of me awakes again in a dream. There is a little of the past – Celine Dion plays in the background as I dabble in some source and observe the little plate of dates and the shopowner seems to have emerged from an Asterix/Obelix comic / and yet the feeling is modern familiarity, things have changed but I am not able to discuss how and in what manner, and all we can do is share a hint of stories that have shaped who we have came to be.
A says I follow her like le’ detective and I seem more curious about people moving through streets. But I love the soft warm orange highlights of the night and the streets which I do not know. The shadows mimic a little film noir adventure. So many things are closed at night and yet they run their own stories in the morning, and it has been this way for years.
J drove me past his old home, a little shophouse, recently. I imagined him as a boy, climbing up and down the stairs, and looking down from the window, of him running away from the vacumn cleaner. He has always told me that he felt that he had lost his childhood, and when I look up the window, I think of years passed with that impish face pressing against the window.
We trooped into a little shophouse because the shopowner told us to. There were little Aladdin-esque corners with rainbow cushions and elaborate carpets, and people smoking shisha in a decadent sort of way. You take off your shoes and lose yourself.
I’m a happy little p.i in this sort of night.
Dior
The photographs from the Dior boutique simply took my breath away.
Photographs from cherryblossomgal
The Bigwood Mystery
Some photographs from our play. It was so much fun! All the live murders and the seduction/death scene and the detective revelation!
The theme was ‘Masquerade’ so alot of people dressed up too! Our emperor, ‘Huangdi’ was the hit of the night! And I think the look is very becoming on him. I was telling him I wanted to take a profile photograph of him and have him on my wall. He was an ‘Aunty Sha-shou’, and so many people begged to have photographs with him. So sad that he did not win Best Costume!
And I loved Purple Rose of Cairo!! It was the most fantastic movie ever! I have booked to watch The Stepford Wives (1975), next. I was giggling when I saw the trailer, such a cute idea of wives gathering around being excited about easy-on starch. But I might actually get excited about easy-on starch. Haha!
The Purple Rose of Cairo
“At the depth of the Great Depression, downtrodden waitress Cecilia (Mia Farrow) finds solace from an abusive husband and financial woes by loosing herself at her local movie theater. She soon found herself spellbound by The Purple Rose of Cairo, a brittle pre-Code comedy set in Art Deco penthouses and nightclubs populated by slick Manhattan-ites in fur coats, tuxedos and tails. The film’s ingenious self-reflexivity materializes when one character, pith-helmeted explorer Tom Baxter (Jeff Daniels), glances out from the screen and addresses Cecilia directly. He proceeds to climb down from the silver screen, and leaves with her, as the stranded performers question their existence and the movie patrons rebuke them for allowing the plot to fall apart. Wooed by Baxter’s charm, Cecilia finds herself falling for him – until she meets Gil Shepherd (also Jeff Daniels), the real actor who plays him. Romanced by both a fictional character and a famous star, Cecilia struggles to locate the shifting line between fantasy and reality, only to discover that sometimes it’s just a heartbeat away.”
Did you or did you not like Mia Farrow in The Great Gatsby? I’m off to see this movie tonight at the open air cinema/ National Museum, and am gorgeously excited! I think the plot sounds brilliant. I bet you have already watched it, Irving, but if you haven’t, here’s a little slaver of temptation.
The film noir play I spoke about, which I am scriptwriting/co-directing/acting for will show tomorrow! We have tried to keep it slick, but in the end added a little camp given the nature of the audience. Just been so terribly busy outside work! But I am thrilled everything is coming together!
Also kudos to B.C for helping me to get Natsu Matsuri tickets. I am looking forward to it so much, and will dance around in my yukuta and squeal with little Japanese children and do the Bondori!
