Usual Thursday dinners with Jamie and Lynn are always a laugh. For some strange unnecessary reason, photo opportunities are a must between us ex-colleagues.
Lynn was my partner in crime at events – she coerced me into donning fake eyelashes at the JPG launch! And Jamie? She was the other girlie in the Man Room!
We decided on drinks at Emerald Hill when someone suggested, “Why don’t we walk up to our old office?” Though the magazine publisher (whose name rhymes with mission) has since shifted to somewhere with cheaper rent, it truly felt like we were entering the twilight zone – the smoke breaks outside that blue shophouse were fondly remembered, of course! Couldn’t help but shudder thinking of the inanity we had to put up during our stint there as we inched closer to number 70.
If anything good came out of working in that ridiculous excuse of a company, it would be these two girls. Till next Thursday, loves!
After emptying the contents of my bag last week in a bid to remove odd knick knacks sitting in its depths, I recalled a blog post done two years ago. Would the constituents in your bag speak volumes of who you are? Notwithstanding for women and their itsy bitsy handbags, of course. Though I do wonder what can you rely on when you’re lost with only your lipstick and compact mirror at hand.
Digressions aside, I realised what’s within my bag has changed since.
Back in art school, my DVD-RWs and sketchbook were of utmost importance.
Now I rely on my trusty Foley+Corinna bag for everything. Taking a peek inside…
My faithful Muji organiser (bought by dearest Jamie for my birthday this year, she probably thought I lacked organisational skills), grey namecard holder, Body Shop cocoa butter lip balm (for chapped lips!), Philips voice recorder (when I need to get an impromptu interview done), black shades from TopShop, the obscenely small polka dot umbrella and my current read: The Gift by Lewis Hyde.
A brochure I picked up at Substation, a visitor’s guide during my trip to the Peranakan Museum, little pouch of girly necessities, black Muji wallet, the loyal sketchbook, my staff pass and housekeys.
Not in pictures – strips of (unused!) plaster, lighter, pack of Next Chill, my iPhone and strange debris.
The only item consistent from two years before is my sketchbook! Good grief! I wonder would the contents of my bag change by 2010,
so what lies in your bag?
Performativity # 2
A screening of performance based videos by 7 Singaporean artists curated by Khairuddin Hori.
Michael Tan, Siti Salihah, Lilpinkdevil, Kimberly Shen, Ezzam Rahman, Urich Lau & Khai Hori
24 HR ART, The NT Centre for Contemporary Art
Vimy Lane, Parap, Darwin NT 0820, Australia
12 Sep – 18 Oct 2008
Now that the F1 fever has died down, yours truly (with absolutely no interest in cars and the entire mechanics of it) will confess: I enjoyed the inaugural Formula One night race.
An aunt passed over these Club Suite tickets for Sunday’s finals and because my dad was on a business trip, I was tasked to attend the event with mum.
Initially I indicated reluctance to sit through an entire race – like what’s the deal with cars whizzing pass with such intense velocity. The screeching tyres or the smell of burnt rubber? And working at the City Hall area probably had me biased – frigging F1 disrupted my bus route to work! What audacity!
Mother and I at the Draycott Suite.
I won’t say I’m a Formula One convert; I still sneer at our local drivers who believe they’re living their warped F1 dream when they attempt their drifting skills on our roads. But I probably understand the appeal of the race. The atmosphere that night was buzzing with excitement, and the air reeked of delicious anticipation and fanatic support. It was sensational watching these brightly coated cars of reds (Ferrari was the hot favourite that night, but we all know who won), yellows and greens. My mum joked these gorgeous cars looked just like toys.
On a related note, even the taxi uncle was caught up in the F1 furor. Colleagues who read this, the cabbie rammed right into the Singapore Art Museum! Oh the heritage-horror!
And thank goodness for the mid week holiday that’s Hari Raya. I found time to catch up on sleep and indulge in…
SCRABBLE! At Spinelli!
Ate too much this week after visiting Z, my cheong sam is bursting at its seams! Curse all the delicious kuehs drenched in sin!
These photos are a gem – how often are we clad in our respective ethnic garb? This is for the keeps 🙂