Travel checklist: miniature sized shampoo and conditioner, lotion, hand cream, 3 step face cleansing/serum/moisturizer routine jammed into plastic sampling containers, sunscreen, toothbrushes, toothpaste, floss, deodorant, 4 changes of clothes and underwear including a set of pajamas, 1 pair nude skimmers, 1 pair black leather boots, a light read for the 7 hour plane ride, passport, itinerary, sense of adventure. And exciting times.

Three things about Hong Kong: Originally colonized by the British, its official languages are Chinese (spoken Cantonese) and English. It’s the most densely populated city in world. If it is your first time visiting, you might want to book your trip for longer than a weekend.

Ralph Lauren shirt (from Francis’s closet), UO bag, Jeans from outlet mall, Dolce Vita boots
We stayed at the Imperial Hotel on Nathan road just next door to Chungking Mansion. This is where Chungking Express was filmed. Now all I need is my sunglasses, Burberry trench and a Marilyn Monroe wig and it would be enough to say, “eat your heart out, Faye Wong.”

If you are a born and bread island person, there will be a lot of firsts for you.

Things like commuting via metro

coming out to play in Disneyland

The live theater show, I enjoyed most of course

riding a crystal cable car suspended 112 feet high

goofing around the Avenue of Stars, wataaah!

vintage sweater, Korean boutique pleated skirt

meditating in sacred places

I am like totally zen

Neneee romper
and generally experiencing the hustle and bustle energy of a big city.

City people weren’t always as curteous as the island peeps I am so accustomed to, but you have to hand it to them for keeping it real. “You no buying, no take pikchar. I am not actress,” said the starlet above.

One thing I was super looking forward to was shopping at H&M, but it was pretty much a let down. Over rated and not so different from shopping at Macy’s or any other commercial department store on Guam, even shopping at Disneyland was way more exciting. The provincial markets on Temple street, Tsim Sha Tsui and fisherman’s village yielded the best novelty prezzies to take home.

Bruce Lee tee, various types of Chinese teas: jasmine, pu erh, lychee, ti kuan yin, white and orchid, Little Prince marshmallows–if only for the packaging, Mickey Mouse chocolates, classic Mickey tee (which would look even better after a one billion washes), MMJ make-up bag, remote control helicopter, lots of black workwear, cheap clothes, expensive shoes
“Bring two empty luggages and a lot of money.” That’s what Mieko said when I told her I was going. It’s a good thing I kept it in mind and also stuffed an extra duffel bag into the front pocket of our check-in baggage.

Eat your vegetables!

If there’s such a thing as buyer’s remorse, even worse is the antithetical nonbuyer’s remorse. I’ll forever regret not buying those miniature wind-up dancing robots and funny splatballs from the old man with no voice and kind eyes at the Tsim Sha Tsui market. Our intuition is good; the problem is we ignore it. I need to learn how to be more implulsive. Like when we decided to have 3 dollar 32 ouncers (amazing!) literally smack dab in the middle of the street. Those were really nice served with poached snail thingamagiggies in a dark chili sauce. I forget what the dish is called, but if anyone knows, please please please drop a line.

Last week I finally scavenged eBay only to find those little dancing robots and splatballs I so wanted but tried to convince myself I didn’t need. I bought them anyway. So I don’t need them per se. So what? They are just cool things to have around. Like in case of emergency, break glass and play with these, they’re fun! And since they are being shipped from Hong Kong, I imagine they are coming from that same kind old man in that same crowded old market.

A final note on commuting in Hong Kong: drivers are either suicidal or insane. Or both. Every time we decide to hop in the back of a cab or bus, I find myself hanging on for dear life. All the while The Smiths are playing There is a Light That Never Goes Out” in the back of my head. That song could pretty much sum up the entire duration of our stay.

photos by Nicholas Haggard
model is Emily Wroe
for Le Loup-Garou

You know how you try to avoid the incessant coughs of a coworker who comes in to work with the flu because they’ve used up all their sick leave? Well that’s how I feel about wholesale orders; I try to dodge them at all costs in order to spare myself from any future suffering. It has a lot to do with 1. not being able to source materials in bulk on short notice 2. fear of tackling such a large order with merely my own two little hands to complete the work, and 3. absolute laziness. But when Laura approached me with the idea of carrying some of my items in her Brooklyn-based boutique, Leloup-Garou, I immediately knew I wanted to work with her.

It was more of a personal decision than one of business. Laura was incredibly warm and genuine; she kinda made it impossible to turn her down. And it’s no wonder with influences like Miranda July and Rufus Wainwright (might I add a mutual appreciation for all types of cheeses) that we got along so well. Eventually I came around to asking her about the general direction of her shop and her style philosophy. Here’s what she had to say:

“I think the most successful sense of style is one that fits the individual perfectly. It doesn’t have to be ‘out there,’ or unexpected, or high fashion, or cost a lot of money, or any of these things. It just has to make sense and fit, both literally and creatively. I think the most important thing is to be brave, take chances, and be ready to wear some things that people might not get; at the same time, to avoid wearing anything that doesn’t feel, down to its core, like it belongs on you.”

Le Loup-Garou translates to werewolf in French. “It’s a beautiful way to communicate a grotesque idea,” she says.

When you visit her website, you’ll notice a clean layout. It isn’t saturated with items catering to different tastes either; every piece looks like it could be worn by the same girl. From the limited use of accessories to the photography, there’s a distinctly edited, cohesive story to be told. What I find most admirable about good storytelling is what’s left out as opposed to what’s piled on. For the same reason why George will forever be my favorite Beatle—because 2 out of 3 times it’s the quiet ones who have more to say without having to say nearly as much.

p.s.,

Hi! Valerie,

Best,
Yuko
1 October 2010 4:40pm EDT

Omiyage from Japan:

Dream girls… not.

Yuko wears: dress by Anthropologie, shoes by Anne Klein and (the cutest apple pendant) necklace by Unoaerre via Gilt Groupe.
I am wearing: self-made velvet romper, necklace from *can’t remember, deadstock tights from Salvation Army, and shoes by F-Troupe.

Thanks for visiting, Yuko!

The first time I discovered Softspoken was through the flickr group wardrobe_remix. She was wearing a red American Apparel jersey scarf tied into an over sized bow around her neck. I was intrigued. After reading through several all of her past blog posts, I knew for sure she was someone I wanted to be friends with… Oh gosh, did that sound creepy stalkery?

Rachael (we are now on a first name basis, you see) doesn’t so much write about oh, so here’s what I wore and the weather was like this, but more about feelings and existential dilemmas and stuff we think about but are too afraid to say out loud. She digs Bob Dylan (even dressed up as him for Halloween one year). She can crochet a bubble beret better than your grandma. And I bet if I asked her to, she’d probably sort my bookshelf using the Dewy Decimal System. Over the past couple of years we’ve been keeping in touch, commenting on each others’ blogs and flickr accounts and have grown to become good internet pals.

So when she asked if she could carry some pieces from my line in her new brick and mortar store, Pack Rats, of course I had to oblige. If you’re in the Columbia, South Carolina area and want to find some Neneee pieces exclusive only to Pack Rats, more handmade goodies and vintage finds, please drop by and show Rachael (and her hubby/shop co-owner Milton [and their cat]) some love. You can visit the official Pack Rats facebook page for more information about these cool ca… erm rats!

p.s., I answered a few interview questions over on the Pack Rats blog. You’re welcome to take a peep here if you like.

Here are a couple of quick shots snapped on my way out the door. In the first photo, I was trying to do my best Cruella De Vil impersonation without looking too much like a meanie. Here’s to hoping the cute puppy will compensate.

This year we opted out of trick-or-treating knowing full well that I’d be paying for it during my graveyard shift later on that night. A few days ago Kneil recommended AMC’s new series The Walking Dead (thanks, Kneil!) and I figured it’d be the perfect time to watch the pilot episode. It seemed all too familiar (28 Days Later, anyone?) so I’m not quite sold yet, but it usually takes a few episodes to get reeled in anyhow. I love the idea of a western zombie series though! Western anything, really.

faux fur shawl – self-made
dual patterned dress – self-made
crushed velvet gloves – from my boss (bought at the Dungeon costume shop)
peep toe buckle booties – Steve Madden

sweater, bag, and loafers – vintage
jeans – Miss Sixty

When it’s pouring outside, all I wanna do is curl up on the couch with a good book and a fluffy comforter. But I promised Gab we’d cheer for her at her dance exhibition so the next best thing was this cozy sweater.

After penguins mate, they share parental duties. The papa penguin will fast and incubate the egg while the mama penguin travels to sea in search of food. He’ll brave the cold winter living off his fat stores for up to 2 months. When the mama penguin comes back, they switch roles. If the egg hatches before the mama penguin arrives, the papa penguin—even in a fasted state—can regurgitate a substance from his throat that will allow the baby penguin to feed for up to 2 weeks. Also, they are very cute.

Photos by Francis

My initial thought was to sneak some pictures in at an ice cream parlor like Cold Stone, but then I thought maybe that’s too literal? Besides, unless it’s Selecta’s Double Dutch, I’m just not a huge fan of ice cream to begin with. Much less terribly sweet, ridiculously overpriced ice cream. The truth is, I am feeling kind of phony wearing this dress because lately when I crave for something indulgent, it’s either a big bowl of pasta or something salty like dried meat, or—I’m embarrassed to admit—deep fried something. (There. I said it. Okay?)

But it’s still a fun textile anyhow. And it ties in so well with the new dress pattern. Hmmm, although now I’m wondering where to find spaghetti and meatball novelty fabrics. That’s something I can get really excited about

Please disregard my gross feet. I wanted to talk about these shoes. While I was trying them on, I couldn’t decide whether they were ugly or awesome; now it’s pretty clear that they are ugly-awesome. Lucite heels always conjure up drag queen/stripperella connotations for me, but I like it combined with completely different materials—the natural wooden soles and pops of color from the leather straps. Three elements you wouldn’t think would go, but do in a strangely tasteful way. It reminds me how Ben Folds sings in Wandering, “Remember that? You told me you can’t match your clothes.” I imagine the person who designed these shoes had trouble matching too and appreciate how it looks very deliberate without looking so matchy matchy. Kinda like the way this picture is compared to the ones above it.

Neneee Sweet Tooth Dress and studded bangle – self made
shoes – Shellys London

photos by Francis

straw boater – ebay
Neneee Indian Summer Dress – self made
clogs – Miu Miu
gold jeweled bangle – thrifted vintage
leather watch – gift from mom
beaded bracelet – Gallop USA
friendship bracelets – thrifted deadstock

This fabric was a lucky find at the local craft store. While laying out the patterns to cut it into a dress, I noticed along the selvages it read: Inspirations by Terrie Mangat for Free Spirit. Curious about the artwork, I decided to do a little digging.

The first site that shows up in Google search results is Terrie Mangat’s personal website. Of course I was expecting to find a little insight to the artist, but what caught me completely off guard was the veritable goldmine of sparkling textiles displayed in her gallery. I’m skimming through previous collections and thinking, how neat would it be to make button-up shirt covered in funky fish?

Or a fun full skirt bursting with jelly beans sounds delicious!

images via terriestudio.com

The fabric I’m wearing is called Chandigarh, which I learned (thank you, Google!) is a place in Northwestern India. The images based on one of its many attractions called Rock Garden where chambers and statues are comprised entirely of salvaged materials like broken glass, china ware, and clay. Making something beautiful from waste—that is always something I can get behind, natch.

images via feelandreview.com

Francis has been going on about Cinnabon ever since I let him try one last week. While we’re having our morning coffee he says, “This would be so good with Cinnabon.” After dinner he puts his fork down and says, “You know what I’m craving for dessert right now? Cinnabon.” On the couch I am applying warm vanilla sugar lotion to my feet while watching the latest episode of Mad Men. He leans in with a big dorky grin, closes his eyes, catches a whiff and says, “Mmmmmm, smells like Cinnabon.” When it got to the point where he was whispering Cinnabon while brushing past me on the bathroom toilet, I knew for sure it was time to get this boy some Cinnabon.

“You can thank Reena for that,” I said. She always insists I try these amazing specialty foods that I wouldn’t be brave enough to try by myself (really, 880 calories for a pastry? crap). Stuff like Deli Manjoo and Beard Papa’s and in the case of our last date, Cinnabon. I love Reena.

Did I tell you about my ongoing theory that the better your are at driving, the better you are at handling life experiences? I am accident prone. You know the terrible Korean driver you poke fun of because ONLY SHE could hit a parked car? *ahem* That would be me. But Reena—I am constantly stepping on the imaginary break pedal from the passenger seat of her car. The lunatic of a driver. Even behind the wheel, she has the practical joking down. She’s the character who will tell you to roll up all your windows just so she can pass the deadliest gas and wait for a reaction. She does not warn you about it and refrains from laughing until just the right moment because it makes the stink all the more unbearable. EVIL.

There’s plenty of crude jokes and more use of the word ‘fierce’ than I can handle, but one thing’s for sure—it’s never boring when Reena’s around. We are different in more ways than we are the same, but I think that might be why we get on so well. She is the frosting to my Cinnabon.

Back from limbo. Ah, it’s such a relief to be done with wholesale orders after 3 weeks of solitary confinement! Okay, maybe I wasn’t completely alone. Evan Dando was still chillin’ in my squeezebox to keep me company.

Gosh, has it really been a month since my last post? I guess this makes me a bad blogger. Sorry sorry x_X Here’s the only conclusion I can come to—it’s either got to be sewing or blogging, but I can’t do both without one or the other suffering. Idk how Jenny Gordy does it! Sewing is the easiest thing in the world to do, but there’s no way around it being incredibly time consuming. Well, at least not without sacrificing workmanship. Which is something I’d rather not do. And you know how the internet vortex goes—one hour online leads to two hours leads to three leads to there goes my entire day. So ultimately I’ve chosen to make stuff first and then come to the surface for a breath of fresh air every once in a while. Hi, how are you?

Today is the first day in a long time I wake up without anything pressing to complete. I’d like to take a trip to Tokyo Mart and pick up a copy of ViVi. Maybe we could make a picnic of cheap beer and deluxe combo sushi. You know, the kind with packaged soy sauce and weird plastic grass separators. They always load it with too much rice and not nearly enough filling and then comes the carb crash 30 minutes later. But I guess you get what you pay for buying sushi at a grocery store, right? Tonight, it’s dinner with the bff and then Dinner for Schmucks. I’d really just like to get out of the the house if only for a short while before starting on a new collection again. I am feeling a little out of it and need something to pull me back in.

Robert Pirsig talks about this feeling a lot in Zen and the Art of Mortorcycle Maintenance—how traveling is better than arriving. He says he always falls into a period of depression after reaching a goal and has to reorient himself toward a new one. Even if he was a little cuckoo, still, it’s comforting to know I am not alone in feeling that way—at a loss for what to do next.

I knew exactly what I wanted to do last night though. And that was enjoy a meal that didn’t come in a bar or shake. For our ulam, I baked unagi and served it over a bed of brown rice. Then I used this recipe (which was incredible) and this (which was meh) for our side dishes. It was nice all in all.