Happy Valentine’s Day!

Go, go, go, go
Go, go, go, go
Go, go, go, go!

My metal lover & I wish all you Headbanger’s a ripping, shredding, killer Valentine’s Day xoxo

Editing by Chad Kerswill

Photos by Kavita

Musical Interlude…

Nicky & Chief

These are my parents.

Well, not yet, they will be. This is before all of that. This is when they were young, and far from home. The self-proclaimed bohemians.

There is no way I could do this blog without some mention of them. They’ve been the foundation of my life, a staple of my own universe for so long, that it’s easy to forget that there was a time before me.

They partied, they travelled, and lived in a groovy apartment with mirrors for walls. Strangers to Toronto, they embraced it, all the while staying true to those fabrics of comfort and vibrant colours of the East. You would think a blinding white landscape of snow would be the ideal canvas for saturated hues of every colour parka, toque, & scarf. Afraid not. The winter city can be a rather dreary place. But did that stop them? No, not at all. I must say I’m a chip off the old shoulder. Winter be damned, I need to wear colour!

I thought I’d get into my vintage roots a little bit, since this is the beginning and all. What better place to start than with the stylish cats featured above, Nicky & Chief as I lovingly call them.

Born and raised in India, Mum has always been so proud of our rich culture and people. She has an encyclopedic knowledge of the subcontinent. Having traversed its shimmering coastlines, bustling cities, fertile fields & hill stations, she kinda should be. We tend to wear our hearts on our sleeves and Mum, with her flair for exotic prints, is no different. This photo, taken in the 70’s, has the fetching Nicky dressed in a combo mid-riff blouse with floor-length skirt and matching attitude (ok, so Mum’s a stone-cold fox). I take so much from her, literally. I have nabbed every single tunic, vest or dress I could get my greedy little hands on. Old suitcases have been picked clean of its vintage gems only to be incorporated into my wardrobe. She taught me how to spot quality and her daring sense of style has certainly rubbed off. On a night out dancing, you can find me doing the shimmy in a purple & silver sequined bat-wing dress. I didn’t buy that shit at Urban Outfitters. She had that thing custom made! Jewelry, bags, shoes, you name it, I snag it. Wearing her things is such a pleasure I can barely describe it. Thoughts that go through my mind: when did she wear this, did she feel radiant & beautiful, what possessed her to employ a tailor to make it?! It’s a fabulous feeling. As her biggest fan, I can only compare it to what it would be like to slip on Audrey’s Givenchy gown from Sabrina or Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust jumpsuit. There is magic to these garments and I will treasure them as long as I live.

With Dad, what I take from him is his “I don’t give a fuck” attitude when it comes to wearing something ‘unique’. From this picture it is obvious that Dad, is a fan of the Kennedy brothers. There’s a drawing of them he made that still hangs in my Grandparents house in Malaysia. There is something very special about that time. JFK sparked the imagination not of his country, but around the world. I can just picture Chief, in his youth, quietly listening as the transistor radio crackles out that inaugural speech. The whole world strained to listen; and those who heard, I think were forever changed. As a tribute, whether subconsciously or intentioned, Chief is totally sporting a do a la Jack Kennedy. That voluminous side part, finished off with those full sideburns; there’s no doubt about it. Imitation is the highest form of flattery and I’m guilty of the same charge; I’ve cut my hair to look like Francoise Hardy. You might see the odd photo of Kennedy in a Hawaiian shirt, but not in this purple, silk batik variety. I love that about Asian men – wearing colour is not effeminate. Try saying that to Chief and expect the walloping of a lifetime. This is one proper hard dude in a purple silk shirt on his Saturday night and ain’t no one gonna tell him its fruity. I can’t help but notice that crisp white undershirt collar sticking out. That hint of a gent is there. I bet he has a folded pocket-square tucked away.

When I eventually make my way up to the cash at athrift shop, you’d be hard pressed not to find something silky, printed or loud amongst my finds. To me these aren’t the exotic other, the out-there item, that which I dare to wear. For me they are the classics, those wardrobe staples that get reinvented with every season. I guess mangos don’t fall too far from their trees either.

Girl’s with Gaps

Has there been an imperfection revolution that I missed out on…?

There seems to be an army of gap toothed beauties taking the fashion centre stage as of late: Lara Stone, Lindsey Wixson, & Georgia May Jagger. Their pouting mouths and parting lips reveal two perfect chiclets. What happened? When did the fantastically harsh modelling world let this fashion faux pas slip? I even read that this gappy trend is being encouraged. Cycle 15 of America’s Next Top Model convinced leggy hopeful Chelsey Hersley to get her front teeth shaved to widen her fledgling fissure! Totally flying in the face of modern orthodontics & aesthetics.

There was a time when fashions ambassador’s weren’t so “Made by Matell”. Are we finally harkening back to a time when gap toothed babes like Lauren Hutton, Pattie Boyd and the smouldering Brigitte Bardot ruled the scene? It was the charisma and one of kind individuality of these timeless beauties that captured the gaze of an era.

Flaws are gorgeous. They’re those wonderful blunders that can make you fall in love with someone. Ugly sexy is one thing, but confidence is the real aphrodisiac; let this be a lesson to love thy self. Let’s hope these current gap girls stick with their slotted smiles when the next fashion trend rears its head.

Exit the Tiger…

goodbye, 2010.

Honestly, you were lovely intense, bright & loud. Attributes I typically adore. But lately, I’ve been yearning for a silence the snow brings. In an honest attempt to indulge my imagination, my New Year’s resolution is to hunker down and get creative

I realize this may come late, but not if you’re amongst the billions who saw February 4th as the ushering of the Rabbit year. The festivies are joyous as they are opulent. I remember watching the dragon dances with such bewilderment. I never understood when my Aunt warned that seeing the old year shooed away could cause nightmares. It’s memories like this that make me a sucker for nostalgia. It keeps me up at nights, tis so bloody gorgeous.

To celebrate such an auspicous ocassion my sister & I had two old friends over, Su & Matt. After making a Mexican Chinese New Year feast, I got everyone to make paper chain bunnies with me. (To see what I mean, the lovely Su will be in my step by step presentation below). We made them to adorn our houses. Its rather superstitious, but I was way too caught up in the fun to question it.

Happy New Year! Hello Rabbit!

Awwwwwwwwwwwoooooooooooooooooo!

Coucou ma poulettes…