It was just as well that I had prepared myself physically and mentally for the past few gruelling days or else I’d be a total wreck by now. A long overdue promise to pamper myself saw me suitable berkembaned in a batik sarung in a sauna for half an hour. That was followed by some initially gentle kneading on my much abused back and shoulders that I nearly fell asleep. The Thai masseuse sure knew how to use every part of her limbs to untangle my ‘knots’. It was all thumbs, fingers, knuckles and even elbows and knees.
My first Thai massage experience was last year in Bangsar and unlike the one I had last week in London, the masseuse in Bangsar was all action and no talk, while this one talked to me about all sorts of things from techniques of unknotting knots to Nang Nak – the origin of. I had seen Nang Nak several times and had even presented a paper in Paris two years ago about it, but too much talk of Nang Nak in a dimly lit room and glimpses of the masseuse’s long tumbling hair covering her face as she bent down to knead me, was a bit unsettling. Anyway, I left the spa feeling like a new woman, hoping that my other half felt as much too.
Like I said, this was a fortnight that saw me running around like a headless chicken. You’d think that as a veteran headless chicken, I’d know the ropes by now, but NO!
‘tis the week that a lot of people turned up to do events. It was a happening week, so to speak: two kenduri tahlils in between fashion shows and a weekend conference in Oxford. ‘tis the week when the euphoria of material pleasures were put in check by reminders that this world is just a temporary stopover.
Anyway, this being the London Fashion Week, I was pleasantly surprised to get a call from Malaysian designer Tom Abang Saufi about her debut in London. She was invited by Asia House to showcase her collection to the British public.
And I trotted off to that hoping to get a few more of Tom’s fabulous Pua sarongs to add to my collection of no less than 10 in the cupboard. In the end I didn’t buy any because I have most of the designs and as for her batik ‘buttonless and zipless’ collection, that can wait after winter. Afterall, Tom is opening her very own shop opposite Jimmy Choo Couture in Connaught Street.
It was also at Tom’s do at Asia House that I met the most incredible woman – Tunku Azizah, the Tuanku Ampuan Pahang and patron the Fertility Foundation, who tirelessly works for the benefit of childless couples. Her own struggle to have children after six miscarriages in nine years, is enough to make you thankful for the lot that you have at home.
Then, I had a weekend conference in Oxford and what a wonderful weekend it turned out to be, listening to experts discussing seventeenth and eigteenth century manuscripts during the day and enjoying a bit of Balinese dance and haunting tunes of Sundanese music in the evening in the auspicious surroundings that is Oxford University. We listened in awe to descriptions of some lewd syairs in what must have been the only known porn literature in old Malay manuscript, and we were transfixed by jottings of the only known Malay POW who worked on the Death Railway in Burma. This guy, whom I will write about in a proper entry, was a real survivor. His jottings, which he later compiled in neat Jawi, tell of how he survived being tied up a tree for a week, eating frogs and other insects in the jungle, burying his buku 555 in the ground away from the searching eyes of the Japanese soldiers, falling in and out of love with local damselles who helped him along his escape routes and many, many more. Watch this space.
Then all too soon, it was back to the big white tent at the Natural History Museum, that showcases the top names in British designs. This year, I had recruited Sayang Mama number three to be my official photographer as Her Blurness couldn’t take good pictures anymore. Studying my understudy is not the easiest thing to do. I get anxious too easily as soon as she puts away her camera or misses an opportunity to photograph a celebrity.
Day one, Ben De Lisi’s show was fashionably late by 45 minutes. In the meantime, D list celebs and model wannabees sashayed arround the waiting area, trying to catch the eyes of photographers. This event turned out to be an assembly of famous children of celebrities; daughter of Bob Geldolf tirelessly giving interviews and posing, daughter of Dato JC smiling shyly into the camera and children of the Rolling Stones. Daughter of Kak Teh did her bit and took pictures of these famous children.
Day two – a quite relaxed event at Bernard Chandran’s. A bevy of Malaysian socialites turned up filling the front row. Bernard’s Spring and Summer Collection is certainly something of a jaw dropping event – beautiful and only for the daring with the right curves at the right places.
Tomorrow, it is Singapore’s talent abroad – Ashley Isham whose celebration of punk and romance for his autumn winter collection, was a great hit. I am pretty sure, it will be a repeat performance or even a better one this time.
And yes, after that, I’ll be off to the Dorchester as someone will be arriving from New York. I can already feel the knots forming on my back and methinks its time for another backrub.
My first Thai massage experience was last year in Bangsar and unlike the one I had last week in London, the masseuse in Bangsar was all action and no talk, while this one talked to me about all sorts of things from techniques of unknotting knots to Nang Nak – the origin of. I had seen Nang Nak several times and had even presented a paper in Paris two years ago about it, but too much talk of Nang Nak in a dimly lit room and glimpses of the masseuse’s long tumbling hair covering her face as she bent down to knead me, was a bit unsettling. Anyway, I left the spa feeling like a new woman, hoping that my other half felt as much too.
Like I said, this was a fortnight that saw me running around like a headless chicken. You’d think that as a veteran headless chicken, I’d know the ropes by now, but NO!
‘tis the week that a lot of people turned up to do events. It was a happening week, so to speak: two kenduri tahlils in between fashion shows and a weekend conference in Oxford. ‘tis the week when the euphoria of material pleasures were put in check by reminders that this world is just a temporary stopover.
Anyway, this being the London Fashion Week, I was pleasantly surprised to get a call from Malaysian designer Tom Abang Saufi about her debut in London. She was invited by Asia House to showcase her collection to the British public.
And I trotted off to that hoping to get a few more of Tom’s fabulous Pua sarongs to add to my collection of no less than 10 in the cupboard. In the end I didn’t buy any because I have most of the designs and as for her batik ‘buttonless and zipless’ collection, that can wait after winter. Afterall, Tom is opening her very own shop opposite Jimmy Choo Couture in Connaught Street.
It was also at Tom’s do at Asia House that I met the most incredible woman – Tunku Azizah, the Tuanku Ampuan Pahang and patron the Fertility Foundation, who tirelessly works for the benefit of childless couples. Her own struggle to have children after six miscarriages in nine years, is enough to make you thankful for the lot that you have at home.
Then, I had a weekend conference in Oxford and what a wonderful weekend it turned out to be, listening to experts discussing seventeenth and eigteenth century manuscripts during the day and enjoying a bit of Balinese dance and haunting tunes of Sundanese music in the evening in the auspicious surroundings that is Oxford University. We listened in awe to descriptions of some lewd syairs in what must have been the only known porn literature in old Malay manuscript, and we were transfixed by jottings of the only known Malay POW who worked on the Death Railway in Burma. This guy, whom I will write about in a proper entry, was a real survivor. His jottings, which he later compiled in neat Jawi, tell of how he survived being tied up a tree for a week, eating frogs and other insects in the jungle, burying his buku 555 in the ground away from the searching eyes of the Japanese soldiers, falling in and out of love with local damselles who helped him along his escape routes and many, many more. Watch this space.
Then all too soon, it was back to the big white tent at the Natural History Museum, that showcases the top names in British designs. This year, I had recruited Sayang Mama number three to be my official photographer as Her Blurness couldn’t take good pictures anymore. Studying my understudy is not the easiest thing to do. I get anxious too easily as soon as she puts away her camera or misses an opportunity to photograph a celebrity.
Day one, Ben De Lisi’s show was fashionably late by 45 minutes. In the meantime, D list celebs and model wannabees sashayed arround the waiting area, trying to catch the eyes of photographers. This event turned out to be an assembly of famous children of celebrities; daughter of Bob Geldolf tirelessly giving interviews and posing, daughter of Dato JC smiling shyly into the camera and children of the Rolling Stones. Daughter of Kak Teh did her bit and took pictures of these famous children.
Day two – a quite relaxed event at Bernard Chandran’s. A bevy of Malaysian socialites turned up filling the front row. Bernard’s Spring and Summer Collection is certainly something of a jaw dropping event – beautiful and only for the daring with the right curves at the right places.
Tomorrow, it is Singapore’s talent abroad – Ashley Isham whose celebration of punk and romance for his autumn winter collection, was a great hit. I am pretty sure, it will be a repeat performance or even a better one this time.
And yes, after that, I’ll be off to the Dorchester as someone will be arriving from New York. I can already feel the knots forming on my back and methinks its time for another backrub.
