Niki very nicely asked me to start writing for The Star’s R.AGE in 2011,
and i agreed, thinking it’d be wonderful to get my thoughts on fashion forced upon hundreds of thousands of readers out in the nation’s most widely-read English newspaper.
My column will be out twice a month, starting today.
[click for larger view]
I don’t believe in new year’s resolutions… nor do i make any cos i know i’ll never stick to them diligently unless it’s because I REALLY WANT TO.
So i’ve never bothered.
I have, however, made a few new life’s resolutions.
I really want to be healthier.
Yes -_- I’ve come to some sort of stage when i realise my ‘live fast die young’ lifestyle might last longer if i treat my body better!
So i’m starting exercise in baby steps (confession: i don’t… really… exercise >.<)
My current plan is yoga once a week, and gym twice a week.
Went for my first yoga lesson yesterday.
Never been for one before, so just thought i’d go with the flow and do whatever the teacher tries to get me to do.
It’s very different from exercising in the gym, you don’t pant and heave away,
but you do have to concentrate and end up getting tired and sleepy (well, i did!).
Maybe it’s because i woke up extra early that morning and was running around all day,
but by the end of our 1 and a half hour session when the teacher was getting us to lie on our backs and just concentrate on our breathing,
i swear i almost passed out.
I felt really good and happy after that though,
like giving people hugs and having a cup of chocolate milk.
Maybe it’s my mind playing psychological tricks on me after i’ve heard from so many people how good yoga makes you feel.
Anyway, i like that we’re taking the ashtanga yoga classes in a small group of 5 from a lady’s house. (Aps, Danny, Steph, Jess and i)
It smells of incense and has illustrations of the body and its chakras hanging on the wall,
including a mantra that intrigues me:
May all beings be well,
may all beings be happy,
peace peace peace.
Couldn’t help googling it and found it to be a Buddhist loving-kindness meditation.
Which is funny cos the teacher also has pictures of Jesus and another man i don’t recognise (he doesn’t look as skinny as Jesus and has a big white beard) in her house.
It makes me feel like i found the right yoga teacher; seeing i myself have been raised a Catholic, have Hindu statues and pendants in my room, and randomly quoted an Islamic phrase to a friend last week.
I believe in God. And all Gods.
Wow, look what that meditation did to me… 
SpankyCammy got a new puppy for her birthday!
I joked that it must be like practicing having a baby
Little Tino!
Serena + Tino
Tino passing out in my lap AWWWWWWWWWWWW
Busy busy so can’t muck around on the blog much today!
A visit to the museums is absolutely necessary despite the biting cold in Paris!
While we were there, a wonderful photography exhibition was going on at Petit Palais – 100 Photos by Alexandra and Pierre Boulat.
The exhibition was a tribute to the father and daughter photojournalists, who have both passed away.
Pierre Boulat shot extensively for Life magazine in the 50s and 60s,
and died in January 1998.
His daughter Alexandra was a celebrated photographer in her own right,
having shot for Time, Newsweek, Nat Geo;
and winning numerous awards in the process.
Unfortunately she suffered a brain aneurysm and passed away in 2007.
I thought i’d share some of the pictures i viewed at the exhibition.
Do click on any of the images for larger view:
There were scores of arresting photographs from different wars Alexandre went to cover.
Being told to lose weight in the army
I was starting to feel depressed from all the war imagery when the exhibition took a more uplifting turn… to fashion.
(At least they ended it on a lighter note!)
Paris 1966 – Lady Adelle Donen with her friends
American girl in the 50s
Paris 1974 – Yves Saint Laurent prepares his models
Paris 1962 – Yves Saint Laurent worries about his first show
YSL looking from backstage on his first show
YSL decades later…
Today is officially the last day of Christmas (12 days of Christmas remember?)
so i thought i should blog bout Christmas Eve before i never do it!
We spent it at Clem’s cousin’s massive farmhouse,
located about an hour from the city of Paris.
The drive to the farmhouse was slightly disconcerting cos:
1. it was snowing heavily
2. there was only Clem, Flore and i in the car and we got very complicated directions to arrive there
3. there was nothing but dark fields all around us. So imagine if the car broke down or something, we’d be lost AND freezing!
But luckily none of that happened 
Just like in storybooks,
there was a HUGE Christmas tree
in a HUGE living room
with HUGE presents under it.
I don’t think i could have reached the mid-height of the tree with my fingertips if i wanted to 0_o
Impressively long dining table set up for 20 adults and a dozen children.
Taking turns to prep food in the kitchen
French man in apron… MmmMmmmm
The men shucking oysters. Very manly.
Belon oysters GALORE
Prepping the fromage.
As if i didn’t have enough cheese during our trip in France,
i bought myself some super slimy smellie brie in the supermarket yesterday, to Clem’s distress.
The women doing nothing while the men work in the kitchen.
I could live with this…
It seems customary to open all our presents BEFORE dinner in France,
just like we did at dinner the night before.
It was complete mayhem.
All the adults were on a champagne high;
and all the children were screaming, running around and tearing open presents.
Serge + Flore
Flore, Romain, Chloe
The children were figuring out and playing with their presents all over the house for the rest of the night,
and i’m pretty sure some of them broken the same night too :p
I knew there would be lots of little girls there,
so i brought a bunch of fairy necklaces i bought in Jakarta years ago (and never bothered selling) to give away.
Soon, there were about 6 little girls running around wearing fairy necklaces.
8 if you include Flore and i
“This is my dream come true…” i told Clem, “Seeing all these girls wearing fairy necklaces 
”
Clem: 
I learnt how to say ‘sourire’ whenever i took a picture of the small kids,
it means smile in French!
Dinner time!
We pulled Christmas crackers,
wore our paper hats,
and wondered over the tiny toys
We got matching hats!
I’m wearing a sheer black top with gold embellished collar from Gallo by Thian
After dinner i taught them how to play a drinking game…
one which i’m sure most of you reading this know about.
Another little girl was wearing socks with gold polka dots like me!
Flore called us sock sistas.
All the pictures i have after dinner are blurry and drunk.
So i’m just posting one!
We danced and danced till one by one, people started passing out.
At one point i was lying underneath the giant Christmas tree thinking, “So prettyyyy”
(champagne talking)
And weirdly enough… i couldn’t drink anymore.
I just. Couldn’t. Drink. Anymore.
Physically.
I couldn’t swallow anymore champagne or wine without feeling like i was going to throw up.
So i took it as a sign for myself to retire to bed!
Lots of people stayed over in the farmhouse that night,
Clem and i got a makeshift bed on the landing on the first floor
which is usually the childrens’ study room or something.
In my tired and tipsy state, i found 5 colour pencils poking at me underneath the covers and thought, “Darn kids!”
Found out the next morning it was placed there by Clem’s 40-year-old cousin to bug us
© 2019 KinkyBlueFairy
