Saturday, January 31, 2009

Loren: Small things to help

Brother Dick, Sister-in-Law and The Girl Who Thinks She's Flawless......

are all returning today. 

If I could just be decked in any of these Azzedine Alaia Spring 2009 creations when I deal with them, it'll help me hold onto my temper so much better.

Please Azzedine Alaia, hear my prayer. 
May I have the patience to endure their stupidity.
May I have the courage to face confrontations.
May I have the intelligence to articulate my opinions.
May I have the compassion not to laugh in their face when I win.
And above all,
May I have the money to buy one of your creations. 
(especially your shoes.)

Loren: Smoocheroonies.

This Spring 2009 campaign for Acquascutum was shot by the quirky whimsical Tim Walker, who collaborated with set designer, Shona Heath to come up with the idea of kissing couples dressed in the brand's bestsellers.

My first thought was "Awww..."
Followed by "Yay! Tim Walker!"
Ending with "Hmmm...."

The 'hmmm' has nothing to do with the photographer or the brand, but what the models are doing. Kissing. It makes me wonder about actors and models, who are required as their job dictates, to perform intimate acts with a virtual stranger....and look like they are enjoying it. Genuinely.

Personally, I don't know if I would be able to do such a thing. (I probably would be able to, after numerous jobs.) I don't know whether I am a prude, or merely conservative, but it probably stems from my original dislike of being touched by people. Have I told you how it came to be?

I'll try to spare you the finer details, but basically, through the entirety of my childhood my mother tended to punish me in creative ways. The weirdest part is after the beating, she'll insist on getting a hug from me to show her that I had 'forgiven her'. If I didn't seem sincere, or willing, another beating was given. Its safe to say that ever since then, I distrusted anyone who tried to hug me or touch me. Over the years, I have gotten (somewhat) better with the people I love but it still doesn't stop me from getting the heebie-jeebies when I see photos like the one above.

People say that "a kiss is just a kiss", but it is the most intimate thing for me. Well, sex is supposed to be - but its a different form of intimacy. With lips, you use them to express your feelings, form your words, even to signal breath. A kiss allows the other person to come close, enter your personal space, and share breath. With something like that, I admire those who are brought up in families that give away kisses freely and lovingly, and I am confused by those who exchange kisses with strangers so easily.

A kiss, a true kiss of love, is a lovely thing to experience. After you've had it, do you want to have meaningless kisses instead? Or does it make it easier to kiss nobodies because you've already kissed somebody before? Maybe I should close my eyes and conduct an experiment to let you know. Hah! That about as likely to happen as being invited to a Chanel fashion show.

Now I don't know if I am a prude, a weirdo or a romantic. 
Is it possible to be all three?

Loren: Stop paddling in my sea!

There is this fashion blog I have been following, and its always a visual pleasure to see what this 16?17? year old girl manages to put together as outfits. Its pretty easy to be envious and jealous of this Texan native but to be completely fair, I don't know whether personally she has encountered any problems in life, although if you judge from her blog, it seems like her greatest blemish in life is the height of heels restriction that her school has implemented.  Still, lets go through what we do know about her. She's young, pretty, has a former fashion designer mother, and is able to share a wardrobe with a mother whose tastes are unlike any regular mother that I know of. Plus, it seems like her mother allows her every now and then to get really awesome shoes...and for a shoe fanatic like myself, its enough to make me break out into jealous hives. 

She has two(?) pairs of these Martin Margiela open toed boots, which kills me because they are one of the five shoes I can never forget about and will always want to have. She also has another pair that is on my list, the Chloe Poseidons. 

Its extremely presumptuous of myself to say this, but Jane of Sea of shoes and I have such similar tastes (especially in shoes), that she could be what they call my internet soulmate. Or maybe she should be my internet sole-mate. Apart from her fantastic shoe collection, she has a family who understands and supports her tastes...and as cliched as it is, having that makes such a huge difference in your life. I should know. I definitely do not have one of those.

Everytime Jane posts her new shoe target or purchase, I have to make a call to Tilly to wail about "Jane stealing my shoes!" Okay, I know it isn't founded. And it just happens to be the luck of the draw that some people have happy lives, and other's don't.  Still, just when I my heart swooned at the sight of these shoes, I find that jane has beaten me to the punch. Again.
Oh well. Can't fault her taste, right?

Chances are, even though I love them, and I didnt manage to get the original MMM open toed boots, Jane will beat me to the punch in getting these shoes. Sigggghhh. Maybe she will become my friend and we can exchange shoes every now and then. A long distance swapping system! Heh. A girl can dream.

I don't want to feel like I am simply following in her footsteps when it comes to taste in shoes, so I'll quickly post the pics of these two pairs that I like as well.

(Above) Givenchy lace heels(Below) Golden Goose studded boots

Surprisingly, I am looking towards black colored shoes for my next addition. Hmm....maybe the mentality of the recession is getting to me as well. No more flashy or bright colors to draw people attention, but black as a sign of mourning. Well, I'm sure that bank accounts are having a mass mourning period, at least. Excluding Jane's, of course. 

Ah, Loren, jealousy is casts such an adorable gray pallor on you.

Friday, January 30, 2009

tilly: Falling back on Matias

It's official.

My half tera-byte Seagate has dieded on me. It would not start. It would not detect. It would not re-boot. It would not recover.

And gone with it are my music and my various material for everything I have collected over the past year. That includes LJSecrets, songs, images, musings, material for TillyLoren, movies, games...

And now I am tippity typing away on Matias, my iBook G4.

This cannot be a worser time for something like that to happen. My cellphone is crapping out. I need a new hard drive. And I still got rent to pay and I am so sick of the food that I am cooking because I think my brocolli (sp?) is spoilt and the carbonara sauce is past it's use by date and I think the stupid smoked chicken also turned bad.


No wait, actually no sigh.

I will get through this. I have been spending too much time online and on stupid Facebook anyways!
Great time to start weaning of cyberspace.

Ok, now I am rambling.
Also, I have not heard back from Loren at all.

So Loren,
If you are still alive.

Please send me a sign?

Love muchly

endpost :)

tilly: Hunger Strikes

I don’t think I have heard Loren so desperate for food before.  Every second line of our gchat was Pizza.  She REALLY wanted Pizza.  See how Pizza starts with a capital?  That was how important it was.  It almost was God like. 

And I admit I was absolutely frustrated with myself.  Here I was, nearly a million miles away (yes, I exaggerate) and hearing my dear friend dying from hunger was killing.  There was no way I could get food to her in time.  Then it dawned on me what Matt once exclaimed, that he could order pizza online and then just wait for it to come.


Ok, half eureka.  I had to start looking for online pizza places.  And I was hoping like hell that they would accept a New Zealand credit card.  I mean heck, Australia was as similar as New Zealand right?  Yea right.

Anyway, Loren finally said that Domino’s does online ordering.  So I went ahead and did it.  This is the end result.  See that dial on the right, tells you the status of your order in real-time. Pretty cool I say!

However, the acute smartness of Loren thought she’d better give the store a call just in case because the website explicitly wrote that the credit card MUST BE SIGHTED.  I did tell Loren that we can do a webcam of the credit card if need be.  Apparently it was hard for the guy over the phone to understand a kindly (ahem!  Me!) friend across the ditch is ordering pizza for her friend.  Accordingly, there was a long pause.

2 deterrents happened after.

1.       The address was incorrect.

2.       The mobile number was incorrect.

I promise that I did not intend for that to happen!!!  I really wanted Loren to have that Pizza!!! But I seem to be rather inept at ordering online and with Loren’s address and phone number. Hey, as long as I can get to her on MY phone, who really cares?!

And at the end, I heard the satisfying of Loren crunching on fresh lettuce from her Caesar Salad.

Sweet dreams!

Loren: I will resist.

When asked what wedding plans has she made so far...the bride answered.

".....Few tables of cosplayers at wedding dinner to supplement for eratic taste."

So this is what went through my brain at that moment.

Erratic 1 (Nope.)
Definition: Having no certain course; roving about without a fixed destination; wandering; moving; hence, applied to the planets as distinguished from the fixed stars.

Erratic 2 (Hmmm. Maybe this could be the one, only one that makes sense...)
Definition: Deviating from a wise of the common course in opinion or conduct; eccentric; strange; queer; as, erratic conduct.

Erratic 3 (Probably not.)
Definition: Irregular; changeable.

Erratic 4 (She's definitely deviating from something...)
Definition: One who deviates from common and accepted opinions; one who is eccentric or preserve in his intellectual character.

Erratic 5 (Might be the groom.)
Definition: A rogue.

Erratic 6 (I might use this to pound my head against.)
Definition: Any stone or material that has been borne away from its original site by natural agencies; esp., a large block or fragment of rock; a bowlder.

Erratic 7 (Sounds like a description of my entire family.)
Definition: liable to sudden unpredictable change; "erratic behavior"; "fickle weather"; "mercurial twists of temperament"; "a quicksilver character, cool and willful at one moment, utterly fragile the next"

Erratic 8 (My brain.)
Definition: likely to perform unpredictably; "erratic winds are the bane of a sailor"; "a temperamental motor; sometimes it would start and sometimes it wouldn''t"; "that beautiful but temperamental instrument the flute"- Osbert Lancaster

Erratic 9 (My life so far.)
Definition: having no fixed course; "an erratic comet"; "his life followed a wandering course"; "a planetary vagabond"

I paused, and then very carefully brought my thinking process to a screeching halt.
Some people really shouldn't be allowed to use big words.
Even if they are high school english teachers.
Oy vey.

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Loren: I dream of a couture worn life.

Ah, couture. You make me dream.

(L)Loren in Jean Paul Gaultier (R)Tilly in Anne Valerie Hash

(L)Loren in Givenchy (R)Tilly in Jean Paul Gaultier
(L)Loren in Givenchy (R)Tilly in Anne Valerie Hash
(L)Loren in Jean Paul Gaultier (R)Tilly in Givenchy
(L)Loren in Jean Paul Gaultier (R)Tilly in Valentino
(L) Loren in Elie Saab (R)Tilly in Elie Saab
(L)Loren in Elie Saab (R)Tilly in Anne Valerie Hash
(L&R)Loren and Tilly in Anne Valerie Hash
One thing to take note of, is that I don't really know if Tilly would choose those outfits to wear, but they are outfits that I can imagine her wearing. 

(All photos from

tilly: Is back!

Yes, I am back and finally have access to MY computer where all MY stuff are.  Valid updates will hopefully come swiftly.  I intend to put Friday away for updating.  It will be MY contribution while Loren trods sadly in the world of dial-up.

First things first, I hate hate hate the fact that I have no money to send to Loren so she can have:
1.  Fresh vegetables
2.  Fresh meat
3.  Money for magazines
4.  Money for laundry
5.  Money for her to move to a fully furnished apartment in the city far away from *thinks* I don't know what to name him, everything is too nice for him.  And no, I don't care what her mother says.  A friend (with -money) got to do what a friend's got to do.

Alas, I have no money.  So everything of the above will have to wait.

Secondly, I need to stop sleep-texting.  Period.

Thirdly, the boobs revelation.  I think may not work after all.  There are alot of flat-chested bitches out there.  I need to find another bitch-? revelation.  Rest assured I will keep you informed.  This will be a continuing project of elimination.

I have no shoes for soccer.  I look like a boy playing soccer.  Sigh.

And I think I might finally start to have cellphone issues.  I never used to have them.  Only because I change them so frequently that it never really has the chance to fault while I am using it.  But this one finally is showing signs of age and disease.  If I don't respond in timely manner (unless you are Robert) then it's because the loud DING that comes with an incoming text message does NOT sound even when it's on *Alert Me When Someone Needs Me!* status.  I still can't bear to give up on it.  It has, well, memories!  EURGH!
Then again, maybe if I change the phone.  New memories will be formed???

Loren: In tall, in short

(While typing on the blog, Loren's mobile beeps. Its a message from Tilly.)

T: Why are you awake? (Its 6.30 a.m)
L: Dunno. Hungry, I think.
T: I don't like how you are always hungry.
L: Oh well. At least I don't feel fat anymore.
T: You were never fat to begin with.
L: Let's not get into that at the moment.
T: Ok. I love you.
L: Better than nobody. Hahahahahahahahaha.
T: Haha! You bitch!
L: Well you love this bitch, so you must be one too!
T: Yes. I'm the bigger bitch though.
L: No contest. Your boobs are like, 3/4 of your body.
T: Ok. New revelation, the size of boobs are directly proportionate to the bitchiness of the person.
L: Why my boob so small then?!
T: Food. You need food. Is this going anywhere?
L: Nope. Its going as round as your boobs. Ok. Save phone money. Laters.

Yeeeaaaaaeah. That's us all right. All bitchiness and love wrapped up in unfathomable friendship.

Loren: My skin weeps for winter

Every summer, I start dreaming about winter. 
Every winter, I pray that it stays winter.
That adequately sums up how I feel about winter.
In an attempt to stave off my slow-internet-no-fashion-updates withdrawal symptoms, I started scanning through my pictures folder. Its a complete hodgepodge of pictures, and unless I saved it off netaporter, most of them weren't labelled properly. With my psyche screaming, I was reminded of why I didnt venture into my pictures folder very often. What a nightmare for someone who has been labelled as 'anal retentive' on more than one occasion. Affectionately. 
Curiously, the two folders that were labelled properly were from Luella. Her Fall 2008 rtw and Spring rtw, to be exact.
And they are exactly what I want to navigate my winter 2009 look towards. (Well, one look at least. My other look comes from Ungaro Pre Fall 2009, but that comes later.)
Geek chic with a girly flair.
I know, I know! I said that I was trying to move away from the girly ruffles, but what can I say when my pulse jumps erratically at the sight of pink? I have to say that when this collection came out, I felt enticed to try on a floral mini ruffles skirt despite the laughing in my head. Then, a month later I went to Singapore, and things changed. SINGAPORE RUINED IT FOR ME. 
They were everywhere. In every store. On every girl. Worn ugh!-ly on most of the girls. With kitten heels. With market slippers. Over jeans. Over pants. Over cargo pants. With frilly tops. With skanky tops. It was as if the population of teenage girls (and some middle aged aunties) had been taken over by mini-ruffle-skirt-wearing aliens. They took the quirky geek chic, and replaced it with cheapass skank by the dozen.
I felt unbearably sad. It was like being told that Yves Saint Laurent had died all over again. Or that the dry cleaners ruined one of my favourite dresses. I had a wide range of mini ruffled minis to choose from, the world was my oyster, but I couldn't pick the pearl because too many people had spat onto it. An amused friend told me that I should just buy one anyway, and not care about the others wearing it....but I'm sorry to say, that I am not made out of sterner stuff. To be browsing the skirt rack, with girls wearing different versions of the skirt next to me, was like proclaiming that I was one of them.
Uhhhhhh...chances are, no. They just saw others wearing this, noticed that the stores were suddenly carrying skirts like this, and bought them in bulk. So, in the end I did not buy any. I would have rather cut off my nose, than spoil my sense of individuality. It was just too ugly to see the cheap imitations, even worse to see the awful doppelgangers. 
However, by the time winter stomps around in May-June, I think people will have tossed the skirt to the back of the closets, which will make it safe for me to try the look. Finally. I want to wear it with a slouchy oversized sweater, bow tie, raybans and heels with scrunched up socks. Or is it too weird to have a 24 year old wearing stuff like that? Well, that has yet to stop me.
If I could, I would love to combine Luella with influences from Charles Anastase's Spring 2009 rtw collection. Though starkly different in theme, the vibe of the nonchalant, careless girl with brains who toots to her own tune and occasionally poisons the food of her rivals, is the same.

Oh, won't winter hurry and come already.

Loren: Personally, Loren.

As I've pointed out before, this blog isn't really a fashion blog, but for now, tis simply another platform to strengthen the friendship between Tilly and I. But if it were a fashion blog, what I am about to write next seems to be against the 'rules' of every fashion blog I have ever read. Blogging about fashion, a subject that is linked closely to the adjectives 'artificial' and 'shallow' requires the person to focus on the surface, the products, even the creative process but not so much the human qualities of the creators. We may follow the famous names of Ann Demeulemeester, Marc Jacobs, Christian Lacriox, Karl Lagerfeld, Emmanuelle Alt, Kate Lanphear, etc...we know what they do, whose brand they work under, which publishing house they are contracted to, but any further than that, we (choose to?) remain ignorant of. 

It blemishes the dream of a glittering world, tarnishes the glamour to fade into the gaudiness of reality. We want the dream, its perfection, its lies, because if it was easily attainable...why would we desire it in the first place?

With that in mind, I think the same applies to fashion bloggers. We wish to view them in a certain way, whether it is to elevate them above the normal strangers we rub shoulders against in the train, or judge them more harshly because we think them less sensitive to criticism. Fashion bloggers, would also like to portray a certain image that suits the words/pictures they put up. Maybe portray is too rigid a word. I think 'keep up a certain image' is more applicable here. But truth is, I know every one, in every profession, does that. Its okay if you don't realize it, you can deny it, just don't expect me not to say it.

Back to my point here. 

If this were a fashion blog, I shouldn't talk about the things that matter to me. Not in depth, anyway. Like some super secret government agent, I should choose to slyly drop phrases here and there that hint of what's really going on in my life away from the computer screen and leave the three readers of this blog (I see ya!) salivating over the tiny scraps of reality I dole out. 

But the fact its, because I know no one is reading this.......or no one new is reading this, I would like to, for as long as I can, be as honest as I possible. Without pretending to be someone else, without trying to make anyone think of me as a certain character - just me. This is Loren, stripped, naked, raw - and a little chilly. As the thoughts rumble around in my head, my fingers type them out. Easy peasy. Its been a really long time since I have been able to write without feeling self-conscious, and its nice.

Don't worry, when the time comes when I am no longer able to write as freely as I want, I'll tell you. Then you can start hunting for the real Loren between the sentences. 

I guess that's my disclaimer of sorts. Or my manifesto. 

On other news!

The reason why I have been able to update so much is because Tilly has a life, and I don't. I'm only half-joking there. Okay, one-quarter joking. Right now she is (hopefully) happily snoozing inbetween hotel sheets as a mini getaway trip for herself. I, on the other hand, am stuck in this dry heat in suburbia and receiving shit from family an ocean away. That is some delivery service, I tell you. I would actually update more, but I've reached the maximum of my internet quota and the speed now is so slow I can try to download a page, take a dump, shower, shave my legs, shampoo hair, dry off, wash the toilet bowl, do my facial regiment, get dressed, wash the toilet bowl again, return to the desk and..........the page is still not complete.

Which means......I cannot read my fashion blogs regularly. And I cannot download photos from the couture shows as easily. I want to say IT BLOWS, but Tilly's mind is pretty filthy as it is. So I shall substitute it for IT SUCKS. somehow, it is still no better. How about IT SWALLOWS? No? 

I have seen the Christian Dior, Chanel, Armani Prive and Christian Lacriox so far. But not in detail. I guess I'll fawn over them after February 4th (which is when the next internet cycle starts) or when I have settled my lodging. On an ending note, I calmly, without emotional outbursts or drama, hate my brother. Just thought I should tell you that. To be real.

This song always makes me feel a teensy bit better. Doesn't it just make you want to jump around in your underwear and punch your fists through walls? For the record, I don't that.

Chasing Cars (house remix) - Snow Patrol

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Loren: Christian Dior, Wrong door

Its sad. Even when looking at such a fantastically beautiful, what-I've-been-waiting-for collection -
It cannot distract me from my current woes.
I do not know if that's an indicator that the Christian Dior Spring Couture isn't powerful enough,
or whether my self-centredness is something even John Galliano could not fathom.