Sayonara!

But, a year of living in Plaza Damas, and I fell head over heels in love.

I am not sure if you know, but circa 2008-2009, my parents decided to make a move so radical (for them la), that they came down and decided to explore the life of living in KL. As my mother obtained a job at Sri Hartamas, my father managed to find a place in Plaza Damas that is reasonable and well-equipped with furniture.

I grumbled a lot in the beginning – do you know how far Sunway is from Hartamas when I want to visit? It is such an expensive area! But I had to swallow everything back down my throat when I arrived at the place. It took me awhile, but then I fell deeply in love.

What I especially love about Plaza Damas is its convenience. Just staying in the many apartments in the area and you walk down, you are already at Hartamas Shopping Centre. Whatever you need, is all available at Damas. Groceries can be found at Mercato, bookstore at Times, clothes and necessities from quaint little boutiques and bazaars. Not forgetting Toys R Us of course. Hehe.

I love how I can get roti cheese downstairs, awesome dim sum and porridge at Eric’s Kitchen (RINDU MAX PORRIDGE AWESOME ITU!), yummy tongfun and fishball at a kopitiam upstairs, fresh Danish pastry from a bakery, sashimi and shabu shabu, soya tongsui and even delicious herbal noodles at Ah Yip’s Kitchen. Don’t get me started on Wok Hei’s delicious Malay Chinese cooking and La Yosh’s incredible mentaiko spaghetti, okay!

I love the coffee at Le Passione. Seriously, once you have the coffee at this place, you will declare that no other coffee compares. Italian brewed coffee to perfection that comes with biscotti and a shot of water with lemon, plush chairs and affordable price – what more can you ask for?

Before my parents went back, we discovered a deli called Blue Cow Café and they have yummy stuff.

Sigh. Talking about the place makes me miss it so much. I adore how easy it is to come back from work; it might be far from Sunway, but it is so near my office. I swore to myself, by hook or by crook, I will own a property there one day. It shall be mine.

So yeah, a very personal review on Plaza Damas. No, they did not pay me. Everything I wrote here is from the deepest feelings in my heart.

Of course, I spent most of my college years choosing to stay in Subang/Sunway/PJ, which is where most of my location map limits around. There are days when we partake on a journey now to the beautiful city to buy cheap shoes at Sungai Wang (wait, that’s just me) or catch a movie at Pavilion just for the sake of it.

But other than that, KL is pretty much unknown territory.

But when I started working, suddenly I find myself at Pavilion KL, Starhill and KLCC every week. These places, which used to bring out excitement for me, are now like a second home as I travel there regularly for work, events, meetings, etc. I do not how, but within a space of a year, I have grown attached to the city.

I love how, at three in the afternoon, the steel exteriors of Pavilion will glint in the sunlight and as you walk towards it. I love learning new routes to places I always go, observing how our taxi drivers manoeuvre through traffic and backalleys with admirable skill and pride. I love how one moment, you are in the modern architecture of KLCC and next thing, I am standing in the rustic, gritty streets of Brickfields watching ladies in colourful sarees crossing roads.

I love how we have so much food in our city that every corner you find, you will eventually find something yummy to snack on. I love how at nights, you can stumble down sleepily for some Ramli burger or Wong Ah Wah chicken wings, or even for some teh tarik and hokkien mee under the bright fluorescent lights. Gritty, dirty and tough. Intense, fast-paced and vibrant.

One day, while returning from a photoshoot, I was privileged to witness a sunset from the peaks of Bukit Pantai. It was phenomenally beautiful. As I stood there, admiring how the sun rays dissapear down the horizon, I realised that I was looking for beautiful inspirations in the wrong places.

Let me be shameless and start off this entry with some self-promotion. Please do take a look at this page http://www.malaysiatatler.com/features.php?id=5028) and this http://www.asiatatler.com/hk/top_stories.php?id=5016 to see the work I did.

Anyway, this has been a few months of ruminations for me. Seriously.

Ever since my parents went back to SP, I felt life went a little off routine for me, but after at long last, I managed to get it back on track. Life went a little too fast for me circa 2008 to 2009, so now here I am, dealing with adult life in a whole new way. It was as if I was snatched away from the innocence of my college years and thrust into the intense life of a yuppie.

But I do not want to talk about that. I want to talk about the person who has been there for me all these months (and years, if you count our years being good friends). Everyday, I am grateful because he has been a tremendous support to me once my parents left. He tolerates my emo outbursts with patience, he consoles me when I am too distraught to coherently form any words, and inspire me with his intelligence and depth. Tough days, deadlines, petty emo disputes – all of them vanish when he arrives at the door to pick me up on our dates, or when it’s just me and him alone.

I always thought I’d make a bad girlfriend. After all, while girls and boys were dating with frivolity during my high school days, I have always been guarded and too selfish to give up my singledom for somebody else. But I realised, our times together proved that this was a phase of my life that I am comfortable with after all. But then again, it could be because I was with a person who complimented me in a way I cannot explain.

Looking back on the space of a year and a half since we decided to take this path together, I have grown up so much as a person. My heart is so open and full in a way I never imagined possible. I am no longer afraid and my heart has finally opened from the shell I have built around it.

Happy one year and six months, dear.

Le sigh. Missing SP already. Miss the easygoing ease of the small town. Miss my old friends. Miss my old life.

But life goes on as they say and so I await my flight away from home.

So I managed to watch it and emerged enlightened.

As you all know I work in the magazine industry, and I have been working in this field for a year. Not very experienced, but I have already gained my momentum. I love what I do very much, although there has been hair-raising moments, I can truly honestly say, even though I doubt it is my life purpose, I do enjoy doing this with all my heart and soul.

Anyway, of course, there is a huge difference between how each magazine works. Marie Claire offices are much different than Vogue, Vanity Fair’s shoots and focus are completely different than Seventeen etc. Therefore it always intrigues me when I watch shows/documentaries on how magazines run. Which drew me to September issue in the first place.

Okay, before I rant further: a trailer to this documentary.

When I watched it, I watched through the eyes of a magazine writer. I understand every effort that is made by Wintour and her team to have a good magazine and the dedication they pour into their craft. But like anybody else who have watched the documentary, I found an all-new respect for Grace Coddington, the unsung hero zoomed in by the producers of the show.

Brave and somehow motherly, she actually stands up to the icy cool Wintour in several climax scenes. But what truly captivated me was her professionalism and dedication to her work. She attentively selects the texture, colours and materials of her clothes and mixes them. She knows what she wants in her shots and creates a warm, soulful atmosphere in the shoots. She engages the models, cares for their welfare and encourages them to bring out the best of the shots, which I find truly wonderful. I especially liked the shots she did at the diners…very romantic yet beautiful.

Of course, Wintour might be portrayed as an aloof, inscrutinable superior but kudos has to be extended to her to make the magazine work. Truth be told, I am a big fan of Vanity Fair and Vogue is a magazine I pick up to flip through for some fashion shoot ideas rather than its substance, but there is no doubt it is Wintour to controls the direction of the magazine. Whether you may or not question her decisions to throw out certain images or work, she is good at what she does and she knows it. Otherwise, she would not be the editor of Vogue US for 22 years (crap that is like, one year younger than me!)

Anyway, you have to admit, the Coddington-Wintour relationship is a true dynamic that spurs the magazine further (and centralises the documentary focus). If you are a big fan of fashion and is curious on how magazines are run (please don’t believe all that Ugly Betty hype. Its not THAT superficial la), this is the documentary for you.

She imagines a lion prowling down the sands, its paw prints leaving marks with its steps. It will stride towards her majestically, its brown mane and fur blowing in the sea breeze, foam spraying from where the water laps against its legs. She will run towards it, swing nimbly on its back and let it carry her across the broad expanse of sandy shores.

But she opens her eyes and there is nobody. There is only her, a solitary figure sitting hunched on a blanket, her legs pulled to her chest. And that is where he found her when he arrived. But he did not approach. He quietly sat down and unloaded his canvas and palette. He continues to paint her, the girl who he dreamt of carrying on his back in his dreams.

http://www.malaysiatatler.com/features.php?id=4793

Very belated, but whee-hoo!

So just as the outside part of me needs a lot of work…I need to work on overhauling my interiors as well. I am constantly pandering to the query on whether I am psychologically sound sometimes, but then we are all deranged in some ways, are we not? I find great escape from working day to day, living it as it is and enjoying a particularly quiet moment with my boyfriend, family and friends.

I have my own goals to chase, I know. I was recently given more responsibilities to fulfil at work, and the stress of it nearly broke me down. There is a quasi-maniacal part of me that actually derive some sort of twisted pleasure from the pressure, strangely enough. Every time I feel stressed or sad, I pop SATC into my DVD and go, “Yup, I’m living the life.”

But priceless moments never came from work. It motivates me, fulfils me in ways that are so short-term and fleeting that I have become numb from the constant bursts of excitement and adrenaline. Some people can be fed through material rewards, but not me. Sure, I love money like the rest of humanity, but I find greater joy from other things. Like spending quality time with the boyfriend with plenty of conversation and hugs. Or grocery shopping with my gung-ho dad, watching Korean dramas with my mum or even stuffing my bro with food by taking him out. Or chatting with my girls over meals and giggling over silly stuff.

I dreamt of a bridge to two worlds connecting me between past and present. At moments, I toss my head and I can smell the scent of the sea in joyrides across Penang bridge. I recall giggling as I treaded across the sand in Batu Feringghi late at night, feeling like a trespasser when it is actually a free country. I blink and I am back in my present, stuck in a back of a cab on the AKLEH for a company dinner, rain pattering on the roof of the taxi. But here, amongst the smoke and fumes of industrialization, was where I found my heart, sprayed with Calvin Klein Crave perfume. And the bridge between past and present collapses, leaving me falling and falling into the deep hole of nothingness.