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.

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

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

floral wreath – salvaged from my niece’s communion veil
Sleepyhead romper – self-made
silver moonstone ring – gift from Loraine
nude flats – Capezio

It might have been too predictable to wear a star romper on the fourth of July. That night we found a good spot near the bay to ensure clear view of the fireworks. Isn’t that what happens after you’ve made the switch from adolescence to early adulthood? Things that were fun when you were a kid become exciting again. Like playing Scattegories around a coffee table or boonie stomping adventures. Or do I kid myself into thinking this, obviously still suffering from the Peter Pan syndrome?

Every time a really impressive fat one shot up and exploded in mid-air, the kids behind us yelled, “Whoa, Whoooooaaa, I like that one!” My eyes were following the little one, overshadowed by its preceding spectacles, barely making it somewhere below center show, just before scattering haphazardly like a dozen inebriated Tinkerbells.

photos by Francis