Faulista Runs: 10km in Public...

It’s Monday morning.

At 11:35 a.m., it’s a bit of an odd hour to be contemplating things like work and stuff. I checked on the calendar and realise that, “hey, it’s the run this weekend!” Then with a dread, I contemplated again – yes; I seem to do that a lot, don’t I? I mean, contemplate.

I’ll be on the run this weekend with my village training school this Saturday next to the refreshing ocean. Hmm… it’s a while since I’ve been there. Wonder how’s it’s changed already.

But seriously, I digress. I should be considering if I had been practising enough to be in tip-top condition for the run. It’s my usual 10km, but still, I don’t want to take any chances.

See you there! Next to the ocean and taking in the bracing sweet air for the run!!

Fabulista Reiterates: The importance of proper pronunciation.

While having lunch at one’s favourite democratic eatery at the Atrium, one was reminded of the importance of proper pronunciation. The anecdote below is a big blow to the head *ahem* and serves as an indication to the consequence otherwise…

The eatery is unfortunately, also the favourite of many, as they would pronounce themselves “so-fers-ter-catered” (sophisticated) local girls. You know the kind – the ones who sports a perennial tan that puts even Donatella Versace to shame; the ones with a penchant for wearing thin cotton wrap dresses even when they are shopping along the Orchard Road belt, with the ability to pile on cosmetics on their faces that even drag queens would feel embarrassed, who loves white flesh potatoes especially the ones imported from navy ships.

It was while one was lunching, that a group of them sat down next to one’s table, along with a sack of said potatoes (albeit rather good-looking potatoes *wink*). Midway through their meal, one of the “so-fers-ter-catered” girls, with legs that possibly begin at her neck, caught my aural attention. She pushed her dish away with limp-wristed hands and promptly declared, “Oh, I’ve had enerve… the food is rur-lee feeling me up…”

is this being felt up by food?

At this point, one nearly choked on one’s bite of bean curd in the mouth. How on earth is it possible for food to molest a diner? How on earth does food feel someone up? I am not sure if the sack of potatoes were as dense as their female equivalent seated opposite them, but they appear to comprehend their outrageous statement. Being the linguistically inquisitive individual that one is, one could not help but glance over in their direction.

With that one glance, all mystery was dispelled – one witnessed the “so-fers-ter-catered” girl who accused the food of molest rubbing her (non-existent) stomache. While trying to sound “so-fers-ter-catered”, she had accused the food of feeling her up (pity the food) while meaning stuffed – “the food is really filling me up”.

One tried to go back to one’s meal. Unfortunately, with my over-active imagnation and the very graphic accusation of food feeling up the uglier than Donatella Versace (if that was possible) super-tan “so-fers-ter-catered” female in an inappropriate cotton wrap dress, one had completely lost one’s appetite… for the next seven days.

Fabulista Reflects: On War

Do not describe.
The necessities of war.
To me.
Please.

I am drowned.
In salty ocean drops.
Of sorrows.

The fabric woven.
In various shades of green.
Brings none of glory.
Nor of shame.

It weaves.
A heart.
A family.
And so a country.
Bereaves.

Fabulista Excited: The Retail Connection.

Ever wished that one could saunter down the retail belt on the sunny island set in the sea without breaking into a sweat? Now you can…

Remember the massive road works down the junction of Paterson Road and Orchard Road? Apparently, part of the construction is an underground link way from the underground station to the building across the road. This means, it is now possible to visit one’s in-laws between Tangs, Shaw House, Wheelock Place, ION, Wisma Atria and Ngee Ann City – all without breaking a sweat!

Ooh, time to do everyone else a favour and check myself out in fabulous wear and parade down the gorgeous air-conditioned corridors of the underground! Scarves! Longs! Shoes! Knits! Here I come…!

 

Ngee Ann City	Wisma Atria	ION Orchard

Wheelock Place	Shaw House	Tang Plaza

Fabulista Amazed: At Compensations.

Many people have ego issues. Many compensate it. (Heard of the man with the extra large, extra powerful sports car?)

Many people are hit by the economy downturn and stressed out. Many people seek relief. (Heard of stress shopping?)

But the following is just over the top - a Russian billionaire lost 13 million in stocks went ahead and build himself a yacht. But it's not just any yacht, but one like this...

Yes, that IS the actual Eclipse, a 557-footer, USD490 million yacht complete with a missile-detection system, two helipads, a luxury spa, swimming pool and a miniature submarine. With those exaggerated specifications, it's more like a liner than a yacht.

That's quite a way to compensate and relief stress, no?

Fabulista Reads: For the Holidays

Right after Nicholas Sparks' “The Lucky One”, one embarked almost immediately on Matt Dunn’s “From here to Paternity”. The former is a warming read that is good for Sunday mornings with honey (make it manuka) and warm toasts. The latter is like a combination of chocolate and banana – it’s funny but surprising good.

“The Lucky One” is essentially a love story of a returning American Iraqi war veteran. It journals his search for the subject of a photograph he held on as a lucky charm during his stint on the frontline. The search blossoms from a meeting that blooms into romance between protagonist and said subject. The journey is at once tender and heart wrenching in typical Sparks style. However, unlike his earlier works, this latest publication, like many of his recent ones ends with a pill that is not as bitter to swallow.

 

“From Here to Paternity” is best enjoyed for its near non-stop provision of witty one-liners, play on grammar and homonyms. Famous for his romantic-comedy tomes, this is his third publication that offers some insight into the male psyche. For Will, the story’s protagonist, we see a guy who is desperate to settle down with a family when he hears his biology clock’s tick escalating to one worthy of Big Ben’s proportion. So how does he try to solve his problem? Well, what’s better than good’ol fashion advertising? But it’s the hows and the ensuing process that makes the adventure. It is at once funny and tender with an ending that is as heartwarming as hot chocolate and (almost) as nourishing as a banana.

Read the above titles for an enhanced break while on holiday. Highly recommended.

Currently reading:

*Yes, I may found a new favourite author after Maeve Binchy, Nicholas Sparks, and Sophie Kinsella. :-)*

Fabulista Concerned: About the ION.

Fabulista is about fashion and all for fashion. This is why one has been terribly excited with the reveal that the fashION IcON had been dripping to the public as it draws closer to its opening date.

Can you love fashion and be alive without waiting excitedly beyond bated breath for the ION’s opening? One thinks not. However, being a socially (if not globally) conscious Fabulista about town, one cannot but notice the yet-to-be-completed concrete and steel entity consuming more than its fair share of energy resources. Every evening, the site is a dazzling display of flashing lights bulbs, glowing LED walls and even a larger-than-life motion-picture screen. If this is how it is while it is still under construction, it paralyses even oneself at the thought of how the building might be, energy-consuming wise, when it goes full-up on the peacock dance.

What one likes to ask is whatever happened to the adage ‘fashion with a conscience’? In addition to the nightly flash dance, let’s not forget the full glass bubble that is the shopping mall. Can you imagine the energy needed to effectively cool what is essentially a giant greenhouse? The compressors will be working non-stop!

This could be potential public-relations nightmare once the (money-wielding) crowd realizes the possible horrors. Is it possible in this day and age of transparent-everything to ask the management for a reveal or report of their energy consumption? After all, unless the building comes with its own solar-energy power station, what started as a potential fashION IcON could quickly spiral into a IrONy pION.