"what happens in barcelona stays in barcelona."

almost every single day for the past few weeks, months even, has been spent reading seemingly endless stacks of literature; all those sleepless nights agonizing over this pilot dissertation. i grow more and more weary with each day, surviving on 4 and a half hours of sleep or less. with assignments piled on daily at amfi; concepting, mindmaps, powerpoint presentations and this pilot due back at uca, my spirit is slowly but surely being worn down to nothingness.

(fyi: the pilot, brand manual and marketing strategy are due ON THE SAME DAY)

i find that these days, i don't have much to say, i'm my very own personal zombie. i am even beginning to find comfort in solitude - shocking! - lest i infect others with my flagging spirit.

every morning i wake up, therein lies the problem; an internal tug-of-war - the struggle to get up, get dressed and drag my unwilling body out of the flat, onto a tram and to school. i find no solace in mindnumbingly long lectures, writing notes until my brain goes blank and fails to absorb anything else. i just want to be alone.

i can't help but wish for the days of barcelona; where we had absolutely no cares in the world. perfect weather; the sun, sand, sea, perfect food; eating delicious tapas, paella and drinking wine everyday, being madly spontaneous (how unlike me); let this be known, i was in excellent company. 4 of us, 4 bottles of wine, drinking ourselves silly by the beach, CRASHING BARCELONA FASHION WEEK AND ACTUALLY GETTING ESCORTED INTO THE TENT/FASHION SHOW - LIKE VIPS.

summary: got word that BFW coincided with our study trip. spontaneity struck! got dressed to kill. cabbed to the location. upon arrival, noticed beefy security guards and everyone with VIP/PRESS tags. so screwed. were about to give up and go home. walked to the opp side, it looked like the admin/logistics tent. IL talked her/our way into the fashion show. apparently folks, all it takes is the truth. and maybe a little exaggeration.

:)

endless shopping; for some reason, shopping in barca was a completely different experience to shopping elsewhere, for once i was in the right mood to try & buy. i bought this assymetrical jersey summer dress from mango, in the most shocking tangerine. i made the executive decision after the sad realization that my wardrobe is utterly drab and lacking in colour. other purchases include a navy military/marching band-esque blazer with rows of rusty coloured buttons along the lapels, the prettiest lingerie i've ever laid my hands on and a box of HAPPY PILLS (yes, that's actually the name of the shop) for V1.

i have the sweetest memories of barca. ALL of us waking up with hangovers every. single. morning, holding animated discussions based on the foggy remnants of our previous night's escapades. (in my case, completely forgetten chunks resurfacing at the breakfast table, and being kindly informed by F that i actually HUGGED F/P in my inebriated state. apparently i become extremely friendly/touchy/flirtatious under the influence - so i've been told.)

no comment. at least i had SOME sense left in me not to extend a hug to BP. thank god for self-control. he's just the most beautiful boy everrr. double sigh.

most of this talk took place in the boy's bathroom, where we promptly claimed territory soon after arriving at the lovely hostel. never in my wildest dreams did i envision getting drunk and peeing on the beach. HAHA! if it's any consolation, i doubt any of us did. i vaguely recall lying on our 'borrowed' (otherwise known as stolen) blankets from the hostel, listening to music on F's iphone? and gazing at the stars in the sky. then the sudden urge to whip off my boots - it simply didn't feel right wearing shoes on the beach, and not feeling the sand between your toes - and run into the ocean. the rest of them were wise not to follow suit, it was FREEEEEZING as i learnt in due time, but worth every second.

listening to groove armada's "at the river" as i write this passage and it is the perfect song of choice. that's exactly how i felt; IL had her camera on hand the instant i ran into the water. my red floral dress emerged looking like a blaze of fiery flames amidst the blur of waves. i can't help but smile at the thought of that particular moment in time, captured in a photograph.

it was delightful. even in my drunken state, i remember telling them that the water felt like 'champagne and strawberries'. don't ask me when/how i got so poetic. not a clue.

oh right, how can i forget to mention this? gaudi architecture, sagrada familia yada yada. it's not that i didn't enjoy it, i did. it was gorgeous, but not really my cup of tea. i much preferred the museum of contemporary art. ah, that i truly enjoyed. and our last night in barca; the fashion show afterparty followed by a wild night which i will not elaborate on. lest my boyfriend reads this entry. nothing he doesn't already know though.

i held back on blogging about barca, because i felt that unless i was in the right frame of mind, my words wouldn't do it justice. it was by far, the most amazing experience i've had. travel, or otherwise. great company, great conversations. note: i saw the most undescribable sunset atop one of the gaudi buildings, as well as on the flight back to amsterdam. they were beautiful in different ways. the former was in shades of dusty pink and blue; its beauty caught me by surprise. i couldn't stop myself from taking one photo after the other, right up till the moment my camera decided to die on me. which was a blessing in disguise, because it allowed me to truly take in the moment, and experience it firsthand.

maybe if i close my eyes and still my mind, i can recreate that moment in my head...

let me cry.

take a deep breath victoria. deep breaths. honestly i don't think i can do this, i don't know how i'm supposed to get through second year - 3 essays (2 drafts and 1 i have yet to start) 8 seminar readings, 1 sketchbook, 1 scrapbook, 1 journal supposedly - i'm combining them all into one, JUST BECAUSE.) that feeling, you know the one where you feel like you're drowning but the waves just keep crashing down on you? that's the recurring feeling i've been having every. single. day. i've also become unbelievably emotional; getting teary eyed everytime i have to leave a familiar/loved one, ie: virgi, ngr etc. whenever i'm riding around in trains - alone - i get nostalgic and reminisce endlessly. about what could've and should've been, about how life could be so different if only...

yes, if i could do it all over again, i would: study in london, live/eat/work/play in london, kidnap the bffs and magically convince them to stay, rent a pastel coloured house in notting hill and live with said bffs, and so on and so forth.

i've heard this all before, because i've said, wished, dreamed, prayed for all of this at least a million times before, and look where it got me? nowhere. i'll only irritate myself (and everyone around me) further by harping on it anyway.

24 days till i go home.

dear god,
till that day comes,
please give me the strength
and courage i need to get through this.

LET ME CRY, LET ME CRY!
because i'm drowning and there's no one here to save me.

boys and girls, be warned: it sucks being an international student. (as is obvious from my facebook status)

not only do you pay 10 times what everyone else pays for school fees (bearing in mind, the total sum x exchange rate), organisations like erasmus only fund students within the EU. as an international student, you also have to pay additional fees for visas, residence permits and ON TOP OF THAT, you have to pay for the services of the people providing you with the visa. last but not least, health insurance is necessary for non-EU students. god knows what other charges might be added later on. cost of flight/train/bus + accommodation etc

jesus! (sorry for using your name in vain)

do i really want this? is this really worth it? what will i stand to gain from this experience? do i want a change of scenery this badly? am i willing to pay the price?

it's funny how you think you want something (only if it's free and easy), but the reality is, nothing in life is free. if you want something, first you gotta WORK for it and then you gotta PAY for it.

note: i don't even know whether i've got it or not. i haven't received any official word yet, and the first thing they do is send me the BILL. nice.

cyborg #2046 version vic.

busy busy busy. this week's been a crazy hectic mess;

sun
afternoon/night - trend research for mini mag/monday's pitch & crit

mon
morning - pitch & crit(ique of concept)

tues
morning/afternoon - journalism tutorials

evening - buying/"loaning" 150 pounds worth of clothes/shoes/accessories for shoot

night - explaining concept to photographer + model, making to-do-lists, shoot prep

wed
morning - my shoot

afternoon - A's test shoot/shoot prep

evening/night - L's shoot prep

thurs
morning - L's shoot (yours truly was le model. i had to get into character for her ultra-futuristic concept; think jet black razor sharp bob, thick black eyeliner, fake sweeping lashes, pale skin, black lips. i'd like to call it: cyborg #2046 version vic.)

afternoon/evening - A's shoot (her models cancelled so i had to step in as resident model for the day. eek! hers was pretty-pretty girly and romantic-y. all soft waves and natural makeup.)

so far, no time to eat a proper cooked meal, been feasting on M&S dark choc digestives (i've gotten through one pack already and it's only been 2 days since i bought it). haven't been able to reply emails or update my beloved blog, or facebook, to say the least *the look*

it's been utter chaos, unfortunately i foresee more to come in the following week, given that our deadline has now been moved forward a day.

damn you ...

teacher.. people!

RARR.

stress.

stress. stress. dinner. stress. sleep. surprise visit from the boyfriend = happy. sleep. stress. wake up. stress. brunch. stress. stress. dinner. stress. stress. stress. stress. sleep. wake up. stress. breakfast. stress. stress. lunch. stress.

it goes on. quite repetitive really.


note: my life will only resume after the essay and the PR project have been submitted. there will be no blogging until the end of this week or start of next week at least.

adios amigos.

spring is here!

this is my idea of heaven... honestly, i can't even begin to describe how faneffingtastic this feels.

my submission's over. what a weight off my shoulders, literally. it's such a relief - to be able to breathe normally again. i haven't slept properly in days so this hyperness you're currently witnessing is me running on pure adrenaline, anticipating the eventual crash and burn.

status: out of the shower and straight into bed. chillin' in my bathrobe, hair wrapped turban-style, propped up against my pillows and drowning in my fluffy comforter *deep sigh of contentment* at long last, i had a bath - my hair's been washed and conditioned, my skin feels fresh/clean/taut and all of my nerve senses seem to be simultaneously moaning in pleasure (from the extended blast of hot water).

god i don't ever wanna get out of bed. as it is, i've arranged everything so that all my basic necessities are within an arm's length. the furthest i'm willing to go is.. my desk. anything beyond that is not worth the effort. laptop? check! brownies? (i decided to indulge myself today, and am pigging out on the sainsbury brownies sitting innocently on my bed) check! milk? check! good book? check! phones? check check! if anyone knocks on my door tonight, i'm feigning ignorance. hey, but what are the odds of that happening? *smirk*

after handing in my work, love and i left school and headed to town together. there was a spring/bounce in my step that wasn't there before.. i spied with my little eye; bright yellow and purple flowers blooming on the hill - SPRING IS HERE! i've never seen a more beautiful sight! i was forewarned about the month of february; the peak of winter, the deathly cold, the depressing lack of sunshine, the hibernation tendencies, the putting on of weight.. before i knew it, february came and left is leaving! the air seems fresher, the sun seems to shine brighter - the world seems to be even more glorious than when i last saw it.

MAJOR SHOPPING DAY
at everyone's favourite stop for disposable fashion: primark. my tummy was surprisingly flat - probably wishful thinking on my part, in addition to the fact that i hadn't consumed anything at all today - the look: sexy secretary. i left with a high-waisted pencil skirt and some thongs [as in the footwear, not the underwear. i don't do thongs.] in preparation for spring/summer 08 (2 GBP a pair, i couldn't resist, they were calling out my name!) in an undescribable neon-ish green, but not quite.

as i strolled home i decided to zip into the vintage store down the street from halls. browsing the racks of the women's section proved futile, nothing catching my eye. however, i reaped an unexpected reward - read: a gorgeous vintage men's dress shirt - whilst moseying around the men's section. the second i laid my eyes on it, i knew i had to have it. + sweet pintuck detailing on the chest [like most dress shirts] and super soft/luxurious to the touch.

plus, it had the cutest label ever, i'm a sucker for pretty things that way *rolls eyes*

i tried it on with my pencil skirt; it was love at first sight. just what i had in mind, paired with heeled ankle boots. worn alone, i mentally pictured it with my mum's vintage bowtie-looking belt cinching the waist and black opaque tights, maybe converses. or flats. could go either way. i was so enamoured by it (that and i was too lazy to change back into my clothes) i asked the lady manning the shop if i could walk out wearing the shirt *grin* always wanted to do that.

when it came time to pay up, i rooted around my purse and came up short! i only had 5 GBP, the shirt was 8.50 GBP *pout* with no HSBC atm around for miles, and the shirt already on my back, images of me scrubbing the floor to pay for the difference came to mind. in a stroke of luck, the lady shrugged and said that 5 GBP would do. *claps hands in glee* my first words: seriously?!? i was worried she would get in trouble with her boss, turns out she IS the boss.

i salute you, ladyboss! as you can tell, i'm not used to random acts of kindness..

what a steal! see, not having cash on you CAN be a good thing. hee hee.

tra la la la la... damn. if only i didn't have class tomorrow, i would pack up and head straight for NGR's :(:(:( sigh. missing the boy already.

on repeat: "the greatest" cat power,
"all i need" radiohead.

you snooze you lose.

the result of continuous snoozing: waking up at 915, 920, 930 and finally 945. i literally tumbled out of bed in alarm upon seeing the time. the perks of going to bed with freshly washed hair is waking up with perfectly tousled just-got-out-of-bed waves - exactly how i like it.

i threw on a quirky bkk printed tee, a newly purchased red button-down h&m cardigan, black topshop skinnies, trusty charcoal converses and a cutesy knitted white beanie (to partially disguise my bedhead), grabbed my brown leather slingbag and was out the door before anyone could say, "breakfast?" upon reaching the top of the steep path - still huffing and puffing - i bump into a couple of classmates and instantly do a double take, my still-in-dreamland head going: what the hell? apparently the lecturer called in sick, so no class today. damn! annoyed for no real reason of importance, i actually stamped my foot and did a little frustrated jig on the spot. haha. i wish i had stayed in bed. better yet, done as NGR had suggested and taken the train over to his last night. sigh.

stupid stupid stupid.

basically, i was out and in my flat within the span of 12 minutes. this blows.

FIGHT CLUB

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
SAVE ME. I'M STRUGGLING TO FINISH WRITING MY ESSAY. HELP ME. SOS. HELLO? IS ANYBODY OUT THERE? WE'VE ALREADY TRIED BOXING TO ELEVATE THE STRESS. BUT STILL, I'M STRESSED. NO, SERIOUSLY. WE PUT ON ANGIE'S BOXING GLOVES AND STARTED OUR VERY OWN FIGHT CLUB. RIGHT FROM THE COMFORT OF OUR KITCHEN. AMANDA KEPT SCREAMING OUT ENCOURAGEMENT (LIKE THEY DO IN THE PROPER BOXING RINGS) ABOUT ALL THE YOU-KNOW-WHOS WHO EVER MADE ME MAD OR SAD, AND THE NEW THORN IN MY FLESH, AND SO ON AND SO FORTH. IT REALLY GOT ME GOING. I IMAGINED THOSE TWO BLACK DOTS AS THEIR FACES. 1, 2, 3. POOF! POOF! POOF! BEFORE YOU KNOW IT, FULL BODY WORKOUT.

NOW I GET IT. FIRST RULE OF FIGHT CLUB IS: YOU DO NOT TALK ABOUT FIGHT CLUB. SECOND RULE OF FIGHT CLUB IS: YOU DO NOT TALK ABOUT FIGHT CLUB...

I'M LOSING IT...

"I'm sorry, I had a bad day again."

Had a bad day again
She said I would not understand
She left a note and said "I'm sorry, I had a bad day again.
Spilled her coffee, broke her shoelace.
Smeared the lipstick on her face.
Slammed the door and said "I'm sorry, I had a bad day again."

And she swears there's nothing wrong
I hear her playing that same old song
She puts me up and puts me on

And had a bad day again
She said I would not understand
She left a note it said, "I'm sorry, I had a bad day again."

surprise surprise, we all seem to be having a phenomenally bad day today. from amanda and lili to myself to just.. everyone in general. i spent HOURS sitting in the computer lab, sifting through 80+ images from my shoot, trying to narrow down the scope so that i could eventually select 2 final images. after a couple of mind-numbing hours.. nothing. they all started to look exactly the same. i could no longer differentiate one from the other.

out of sheer frustration, my head automatically started finding faults in all of the images i had narrowed it down to; closing window after window till my eyes fell upon the last one standing. that shall have to do, thought i.

you don't get it, do you? the feeling of being isolated and alone even when you're surrounded by people. i don't know where it's coming from, but there's a silent force compelling me to do something completely out of my nature; it makes me want to stand up in the middle of the room and scream and scream until everyone stops what they're doing and turns to look at me.

great. now you think i'm crazy. well, you're not the only one. i do too.

my entire being feels overwhelmed. there is no one here from home to talk to, not the way i used to anyway. amanda and lili are too amazing, but gen, jacky, jol, josh.. etc. gen and i have nearly a decade of history behind us and with that comes an easy understanding that surpasses most other friendships. that kind of history cannot be replaced in a matter of months by anyone. ever. jacky, jol, josh; the best friends anyone could have asked for. selfless, caring, generous.. they truly seem to give a shit about me, and will BE THERE when i need a shoulder to cry on.

i remember the time mummy and i fought so badly i could hardly move; i simply lay in bed motionless, joleen lying next to me, as i sobbed my heart out. josh was downstairs trying to pacifiy mum. it was a saturday morning, we were all supposed to hit the gym. eventually, after much consolation on their part, i managed to drag myself out of bed - despite the swollen eyes/face - and get my act together. i recall how jol came through for me in hk - that was pretty recent in fact. i was surprised and touched by her genuine concern. i wouldn't have survived the ordeal had it not been for her. *hug*

lastly, jacky.
need i say more, or anything at all?

he's been there more times than i can count. i couldn't pick one moment even if i had to, there are simply too many. he's seen me through plentiful ups and downs; all my relationships, boy drama, drama in general, family issues, work/school-related issues, personal issues - basically, everything. sometimes i feel like we've been in an actual relationship. he knows too much haha. i love you jacky. by the way, i just called him long-distance to ask him how to use photoshop. i was freaking out okay! i needed someone to talk to, someone who knows me, and gets me. he knew there was more to it than just the photoshoot and photoshop. so do i. i just can't put my finger on it.

... the day semi-ended on a good note, i think. i've never seen a ladybug (in my life) until i came to uk, which makes the official count 3, today included. i found one sitting next to lili in the library com lab. i was overjoyed! WHEE! i even got her to take some photos of it sitting in the palm of my hand :) it's a sign of good luck to come.

i keep telling myself: this will all be over soon. this too shall pass. soon, i'll be home.

16 days to my 21st
17 days till rome
24 days till home

have you ever seen a tanned geisha?

as promised, the geisha photographs.

note: i'm not sure how flickr works - if other people can view the entire set of photographs uploaded. here goes nothing. oh right, um click on the photo to get to the rest of the set.

xoxo

clothes off!

after all that's been said and done, I HAD MY FIRST PHOTOSHOOT TODAY! yay me. i spent the whole of last night fretting and worrying, barely getting in a few hours of sleep, and even then, it was interrupted and fitful. not exactly the best thing to have had when you gotta shoot first thing in the morning. if only i had some interns *grin* i could ask them to go for a coffee run. heh heh. london fashion week anyone?

more about the shoot. based on the photographers pierre et gilles, i did a two-page spread with dervin as my model. he was jesus in the first shot, then prince (or the artist formerly known as prince) in the second. sense the irony. icons; one religious, the other pop - similar pose. i'm so tired now. the aftereffects of no sleep followed by a stressful morning is taking its toll on me.

i had ONE prince song on my ipod - and of all days, itunes chooses TODAY to act up on me - supposedly to get him into the mood. thank god the photographer rikard? had prince as well "you don't have to be rich, to be my girl..". i actually felt quite in control, well i certainly hope i seemed in control and not on the verge of losing it. because i was this close to freaking out. especially since one of my teachers turned up (totally unexpected) to assist with styling.

i had to be super precise with my instructions on the makeup (how much eyeshadow, colour/contouring, eye/lip liner, beauty mark), hair (waves vs. volume), styling (erm. jesus wore my bedsheet as a loincloth and prince wore hot pink+silver tights), poses (remember your face: look innocent. pure. look away, up, down, at the camera. OR you're prince, think: SEX. rock & roll. be confident! we worship you).. etc.

we were running late (about a half hour behind schedule) and everything was chopchop. hence, split second decisions had to be made. no time to be wishy washy.

my saving graces: lili and amanda actually skipped class to help me out! i'm so touched.. i just can't wrap my head around it. no one has EVER done that for me before. EVER. honestly, given the state of mind i was in, i couldn't have done it on my own. amanda was my hairstylist/makeup artist with her styling tongs and brushes in hand while lili was the all-round assistant, from choosing the music to helping me find the best way to secure the aforementioned bedsheet.

oh the irony: there he was (dervin) standing in the middle of the room, barely decent, loincloth clinging on by a couple of strategically placed bullclips. i open itunes and the first song that comes on is "WE HAVE TO TAKE OUR, CLOTHES OFF! WE HAVE TO PARTY, ALL NIGHT! WE HAVE TO TAKE OUR, CLOTHES OFF! TO HAVE A GOOD TIME, OH NO"

it was so frickin hilarious, everyone started laughing. even my teacher. seriously, we all just simultaneously burst out in a fit of unprofessional giggles, at my poor model's expense hee. which completely broke the tension, thank god for that.

so marks my first proper photoshoot. i mean, i've been at shoots before - as an intern and recently, model - but not one where i got to call the shots. hopefully this is the first of more to come. *claps* practice make perfect, right? the next one will be better; i just gotta know what i want, and go for it. *nods determinedly*

geisha girl.

guess what i'm doing right now?

no, really. guess.
this is a good one. trust me.

i'm getting my face painted - as we speak (people are hovering around me with face paint, powder puffs, brushes, eyeshadow, eyeliner, lipstick.. etc "look up" "look down" "close your eyes" "open your eyes" "purse your lips" "suck in your cheeks") - in preparation to be a geisha.

yep, zhang ziyi/gongli-type G-E-I-S-H-A. pronounced: gay-sha. powder white face courtesy of face paint. bright red lips. super-backcombed hair, with the help of day-old hair and tons of hairspray. bottles of liquid liner and at least a pound of eyeshadow. high definition brows.

think, sorta japanese prostitute-y, complete with silk kimono-ish robe, printed stockings with black fishnets worn over. printed scarf tight around the waist. red patent maryjane heels - very dorothy in wizard of oz. ooh er. lovin' the kicky shoes.

my opinion: i look raped. hmm..if i just smudged the lipstick a little, voila!

why am i doing this, you ask? only because i love you amanda. *the look* only for you. as part of an assignment, they (manda & co) had to style a photoshoot, and were given john galliano for christian dior. hence, the geisha. lily cole, i am not.

as luck would have it, we HAD to have a firedrill in the midst of our preparations. so i was made to evacuate the school premises and walk out onto the field, wearing a flimsy kimono robe (practically naked, people! freeeezing) and crazy hair. i covered my face the whole time and sincerely wished i could die. right there and then. amanda kept apologising profusely; she knew i never wanted anyone to see this, much less the entire school.

why oh why does this only happen to me? it's so ridiculous, i had to laugh.

*shrugs* oh well, i was never daring enough to do it back in tp when my friends asked me to model for them, or star in their films. my rationale is, if one wanted to do something crazy like this, who else better to emulate than john galliano for christian dior, and in UK - where close to nobody knows me?

my last words: "my mother must never find out." ... and then the shoot began.

i took great pains not to look into any mirrors/reflective surfaces and pointedly refused to look at any of the shots they took while i was getting made up, because i knew i'd feel self-conscious. but amanda showed me one by accident, before i made my request. from there on out, i became acutely aware of what i was about to do, and the inevitable happened: i started getting majorly freaked out.

to make me feel more at ease, they let me handpick songs on itunes and personalised a playlist - all for me! damien rice (or damo as the irish call him), songs off the greys soundtrack, justin timberlake, nelly furtado, timbaland, pussycat dolls.. etc it was a good mix of chilled out mellow songs and funky clubbing beats. it worked. soon i was perched atop a really tall pillar, balloon in one hand, other hand on hip, legs crossed seductively, kimono practically falling off my shoulders - as was i, practically falling off the pillar. tough balancing act i have to say - pouting and posing like some geisha gone wild. candid shot of me laughing while twirling and clicking my heels onstage.

then i was strutting down the catwalk, doing exaggerated poses, flicking my head again, and again. next, leaning against the pillar, compact mirror in hand. pose, click. last scene: seated on a stool, looking doll-like/artifical/bored - chin on hand. robotic hand movements. parting shot: typical asian twiiiiist. blowing kisses.

it was... an experience.

amanda says now i have one more thing to add to my 'craziest thing i've ever done' list or tick off the list of 'things to do before i die'.



be a geisha for a day. tick.

p/s: the photos will probably end up on facebook, but this time i get first dibs on vetting them, understandably.

xoxo

sailorgirl overload.

i had a feeling i should've persevered a little longer (say, a couple hours worth of perseverance?) in pressing snooze and doggedly remained [oh-so-comfortably] snuggled under the covers instead of dragging myself out of bed, into clothes, up the hill and to class - which by the way, did not happen. because our teacher decided to fly to taiwan [that, i knew on tuesday] and not get a replacement in today or tell us what is going on next week either. YAY for us. no class. no reason to complain. more self-directed study. same old. *flounces off*

this morning alone, i got complimented on my topshop electric blue silk scarf with cream duck/bird prints like twice, mum's navy pencil skirt with white polka dots by the girl sitting across me in the library (as i'm typing), aunty ivy's canvas bag with the blue & white japanese print, by my friend's teacher in the cafeteria. for a split-second - after she beckoned us both over - i thought i was in trouble. instead she started questioning me about my bag; where i got it, requesting to take a closer look at both sides of the print etc.

yes, victoria is rockin' the blue & white combo. and no, i do not commonly refer to myself in the third person. special occasion. i hope writing about it doesn't jinx it. *fingers crossed*

just for clarification's sake, i'm not decked in blue & white from head to toe - never was the matchy matchy type. my outfit: white esprit ribbed tank. mum's navy high waisted pencil skirt (small white polka dots). black tights. black knee-high boots. electric blue topshop scarf (cream duck/bird prints). oversized heather grey topshop cardi. black ribbon-wrapped bangle.

soundtrack for a lazy girl on a lazy day: fat freddy's drop. mandapants burned their album on a cd for me - what a lovely unexpected gift! it's the best kind of music to drift along to, without completely losing focus on your work. perfecto.



xoxo

i am in the library.
and there is a gayboy,
seriously, he's very gay.
no offence, i'm down with the rainbow.
(don't know where i heard that before)
from the artificially bleached blond colour of his hair
to the way he sways and struts
down to his very gay butt.

and this boy,
keeps clicking his bloody pen.
in the most irritating way possible
as he runs sashays back and forth.
the way he does it is as if he knows,
it makes me wanna run over and STAB him with said pen.

so i'm trying to writing my essay,
and i'm frustrated okay.
feeling the urge to stab people with pens is justified.

and there he goes, clicking his damn pen - again.

jack and jill climbed up the hill..

so guess who's the jill of our time?

i solemnly swear i shall never again poke fun at that steep dog poo-infested incline, for she who climbed the hill now reaps the reward(s); i went to consult my lecturer on the dot at 3, hence was the first person to greet her at the door.

not only did she give me the direction i so direly lacked, she also wrote down the names of two books i could refer to, to write my essay AND she just so happened to have those very two books on hand. we went down to the library together - she was 30 pounds overdue - so she could return them and i could conveniently borrow them. she's so cute, telling me she would simply refuse to pay the fines, on the basis that she's a lecturer and needs it more than everyone else. haha

what luck! hmm.. but you can just tell reading them won't be as easy. i can already see myself barricading the doors (this weekend) in a force-attempt to read them and take notes.

PLUS the book i had transferred from the other campus came in today! - when the librarian told me i'd most likely have to wait till wednesday, at least - YAY. now i can get down to some serious boogieing... i mean studying. heh

dirty hair and all, I STILL ROCK!







p/s: :) :) :)

fashion in theory.

for all of you out there quick to dismiss people in the fashion industry as ditsy airheads with nothing else better to do than indulge themselves in mindless frivolities, think again.

i moved to uk to do my degree in fashion promotion, expecting the expected: styling/PR/journalism and a touch of events management but never in my wildest imagination (okay, so maybe it isn't that wild *shrugs* i'm prone to a little exaggeration now and again) did i anticipate having to do so much theoretical work.

you wouldn't believe the amount of time i've been spending in the library lately. frankly speaking, it's quite unbelievable. after the initial excitement of fresher's week died its inevitable death, i've to date, been in the library every. single. day. since. yes it's sad, maybe even bordering on pathetic, but it's necessary and a choice that i semi-willingly make. i find that no matter how much time i put in at the library, hitting the books and poring over fashion magazines, time seems to be running out at a frightfully brisk pace. perhaps i'm not studying the 'right' way.. hmm.

my stress level hasn't hit the roof - yet - but i forsee it soon will/will soon.

ahh... the life of an undergrad. ohmygah! it's weird referring to oneself as an 'undergrad' or saying the words 'i moved to uk to do my degree'. it feels so surreal.

it wasn't long ago that i managed to successfully infiltrate the 'adult' working world with my chirpy charms (i'd like to think/hope) as a style advisor>boredstiff merchandising coordinator>starving fashion intern> unfulfilled sales assistant>freelancer and not long before that, i was a crazy fashion design student zigzagging between tearing my hair out from frustration (mostly at sewing machines and/or attaching sleeves upside down) and losing my mind completely. rewind just a little bit; there i was, starting right at the beginning - a freshmen. again.

weird, isn't it?

i think the one person most pleased to learn (of) that piece of information would probably be my mother. that, and the fact that i've been getting to class on time. another exemplary illustration of the phrase "miracles can happen".

for someone who thrives on the practical side of life work and study, it astounds me to note that the past few weeks have consisted of: paris and the rise of haute couture. class differentiation and the bourgeoisie. la chambre syndicale de la confection et de la couture pour dames et filletes and the heirarchical separation of parisian establishments. the suffragettes (did you know the government forcefed them through tubes up their noses, usually inducing vomit, because they went on hunger strikes?) and the petticoat rebellion. the 'landgirls' and the women's movement in 1870. the post-war utility scheme.. etc

i swear to god, at first glance ".. distinct metropolitan cultures of consumption, both in the narrow sense of shops and shopping, and in the broader sense of the practices associated with the wearing of fashionable dress in the spaces of the city.. as the first city in an almost free-floating symbolic order of fashionability.. something approaching a naturalization of paris's relationship with fashion, often around the elevation of a certain construction of fashionable feminity to a symbol of parisian superiority." didn't make an iota of sense.

my reaction: what the *beep*

i had to read and reread it multiple times before the meaning sank in. i nearly drove myself insane attempting that book, which covered "fashion and the 'world city hypothesis' " and "fashion and the geographies of urban modernity" amongst other mind-boggling topics.

we had a guest lecturer in today, and he related a funny (personal) story to the class: he used to work at a PR firm with a tornado of a boss (read: force to be reckoned with. think anna wintour). one day, he was typing away busily, swinging his legs under his desk as he worked. now, their desks were separated by barely a metre of space, in which a rack of clothing was obstructing both their views. suddenly, he received an email: i need to see you at my desk at once. emergency!

he went over immediately (thinking the worst had happened). once there, the words that came out of her mouth were as follows: i don't pay to see you twitching your legs all day. or do i pay you to see you twitching your legs all day? after which, she calmly went back to replying emails.

how devil wears prada is that?!? unbefrickinlievable.

soh soh see lah see lah soh lah see see see see lah see lah soh...

and then he goes right back to muttering chinese words my mind just refuses to comprehend.

jay chou, i mean.

that was one point in my life where i believed wholeheartedly - with every fiber in me - that qing tian was the be all and end all (i pray to god i'm using this term correctly). it was the song that captured my heart, in a heartbeat. like a breath and a breeze. and the scene in which it was set in will always hold a place in me. i could close my eyes and still see it unfold, time and time again in my mind's eye.

truth be told, i'm lost. i'm a lost little girl all over again. leaving design school, i feel like i've left my shell behind. i feel scared and alone, like i've walked away from everything i've known for three years.

which, thinking about it, i have. i am.

design school was my security blanket. my first love. finding myself. heartaches and heartbreaks.

retro queens.

retro queens**
i love what we wore to the dip show.

sigh

sigh.

S-I-G-H.

BIG SIGH. SIGH SIGH SIGH SIGH SIGH.

heh. my boyfriend hates it when i sigh. maybe i should really give it a shot, you know, stop sighing. it's bad for the soul. i used to tell desmond that if he really needed to, do a backward sigh, which is pretty much like taking a deep breath. let's try that.

HGIS aka deep breath. whoot. i feel better already. well, not really.

okay, this is what's bugging me

I CAN'T STOP THINKING!

from 1st and 2nd crits (they said most of us failed) to the stupid informal internal crit with that piece of shit mims, short for mimi (where he didn't grade us properly) to the next day, when i stumbled and rambled my way through the moderation presentation (i felt that i really had nothing to say in comparison) also because he didn't have a PROPER one to prep us for what to expect. to the moderation of the exhibition space, where my dress fell off (and she took notice) to the external crit, where i read off my paper and STILL had nothing to say. shit shit shit. to after the EE, when the allure man called me back in ALONE to show him my 5th outfit, and it wasn't at the exhibition. when i asked irene why he asked for me, she said 'to access your design capability'.

shit shit shit.

to the damn fashion show when they didn't announce my name and i took off the accessories and it seemed bare and the knit dangled off the back of the bustier (cos the tagging came off probably while i was lacing the model up) and the inner skirt was too long cos the model was too fat for me to pull it up anymore.

i don't want a C or a D or to fail. i worked my bloody ass off just like everyone else and we all deserve better!

enough now vic, enough. i've said everything there is to say and there's absolutely nothing i can do about it now. IT'S OVER. make peace with it and move on.

TGIA

note: these are photos of our store exhibition, aptly named 'TGIA' which represents

Thank God It Arrived.

i don't have time to arrange the photos as yet, if you have the time (and energy), you could even try to differentiate the before and after photos.

see ya.


before


chair

the goods

acting cute - AGAIN

talkingtalk

time to leave

after


pretty in pink

rose petals on the rug

tea area

the 'altar'

bad lighting

bad lighting part 2

no comment heh

jobster

doesn't it look like a real store?

my dress!

the clothes rack