Just.

Some things that bothered me lately:

1. People I do not like stalking out my blog and trying to worm their way into my friends’ lives or the people whom I linked. Yes, you know who you are.

2. People who feel they have to live up with the Jones and strangely feel the constant need to brag, brag and brag to me. I wonder why, as I always like to keep a very low profile. Why do these people feel the need to brag to me?

3. Sneakiness. Dida had to change her blog to invite only to weed out the sneaky bastards trying to suss her out. I hate sneakiness. The reason why I was pissed with an ex friend was because she knew that I hate sneakiness and she was all honey and peaches to my face about Big but bitching about us behind my back. I hate that. I really hate hypocrisy and plasticky nonsense.

4. Speaking of bitching behind my back, this is the best incident that happened to me a while back. Some lowlife who fashions himself to be some kind of intellectual, who doesn’t know me from nuts, decides that he is a reigning expert on me and who I am. It must be so because he decides that it is his heavenly duty to warn Big about me and “to be careful of me”. Nice one, asshole. Prior to his “well-intentioned” warning, I had never spoken to this man (I use this term loosely) before.

Thankfully I have Big who adores me to bits and wouldn’t have any of this nonsense.

And I really don’t understand why people are like that.

This morning I was awoken by sharp stomach spasms and cramping, to the point that I almost cried from the pain.. Turned out to be a bad case of stomach flu.

It’s a damn bad time to fall ill as M has to host business associates from Dubai and we have to coordinate a fashion show on top of numerous business meetings. Damn damn damn. I had to sms him with much reluctance. It’s the lesser of the two evils, I suppose, to have an absent PA than to have one who dashes to the ladies every other minute. I thought he would be unhappy about it but he even called me back asking how I am. But what really touched me was that he even offered to get his driver to send me to the doctor’s! And he kept asking me to go rest so that I will get well..

My boss is not the sweetest guy in my life though.

Big, upon knowing that I am not well, insisted on buying me lunch even though his office is not exactly near my home.

I am so blessed.

I am feeling verrrry satisfied today. I got something deemed “impossible” very possible for M and for that he gave me a look of utmost adoration and fascination and proclaimed that I am “fantastic and amazing”.

Hmm, the Mrs was not so enthusiastic though. Sigh. And no, she has nothing to be jealous about, as she is a very beautiful lady and has an impossibly slim figure, even after three kids.

Maybe lady bosses are not so enthusiastic in their praises?

**

Met Big for lunch at the Indian restaurant again today, and I got M a vegetarian set meal as he takes strictly kosher food only and that means, only vegetarian meals for him when he dines outside. Poor dude. All that money in the world and only vegetables for him. At least he gets to eat something other than the vegetarian noodles I always prepare for him..

As usual, I arrange his food nicely for him on nice crockery and cutlery, and he was so gleeful about it.

“Rach, it’s so appetizing that way you lay out the food!”

Heh. I also lay out the food for my girls the same way. Does this say something about men who grow old but they never really grow up? Hehe.

Anyway, my dear dear colleagues have given up speculating as to when he will open fire on me. This is because even when he is in the throes of a raging tantrum, he will still tone down when he talks to me. It’s like a classic case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. One second he’s blasting someone off, the next second, he’s talking to me in a soft tone of voice. It’s a bit unnerving, even for me sometimes.

Last week I thought I was going to get the “initiation” for sure. He got me to do a sales analysis report per store basis, and I was like, THIS IS THE REASON I LEFT THE FREAKING INVESTMENT BANKING INDUSTRY!!

Nevertheless, I bravely trudged forward and made a myriad of unbelievable mistakes. It was so embarrassing. It was also clear that mathematics and accounting is not my forte.

Then I got an intercom call from him. I braced myself for the verbal blast.

M: “Rach, how did you get the figures? Why are the XXX fugures not
segregated out? Is that why the figures don’t tally?”

Me: “Uhm… I should think so…”

(thinking back, this is such an idiotic bimbotic reply!)

*braces for a dressing down*

M: “Ok.”

Me: “……………”

Ok?

Ok??!!!

*thud*faints*

I have to call Paris pretty often for work purposes, so I get to talk to Frenchmen with heavily accented English, which to me is like the best accent in the world for English. It is sooo unbelievably sexy! It’s even better if they pepper their English with random French. Hahahaha

Big, having taken French as a third language many light years ago, loves to torture me thus.

Sometimes without warning, he’ll break into stanzas of French while I try my hardest not to melt into a puddle of nothing. He might be asking me if I had just done a root canal, but still.

Big is bad. Very bad.

I just removed my face shot from this post, because I just found out that some Japanese dude had been posting my picture in his blog.

This same dude had been leaving me comments like how he thinks I am very lovely and he would like to know me or be my friend or something. I can’t remember which post he commented at, but I didn’t reply.

Then, I found that he had linked me at his blog and put up my picture. The dastardly thing is, I don’t read Kanji so I don’t know what the hell he is sprouting about on his blog. I hope it’s something nice like “she looks like an angel” rather than “My right hand exercises to her every night” *shudder*

Weird.

I seriously think Germaine is the next Van Gogh. Just look at this for evidence.

My “secret” little stash of sinful pleasures in an office full of people who seldom eat, much less snack. My favourite cookies from Crabtree & Evelyn and my favourite tea, Lapsang Souchong from Fortnum & Mason. And one of my favourite books, Fashion Babylon. And yes, that’s the baby bouquet from Big on Valentine’s. Please ignore that teeny weensy bottle of Bailey’s. No, I am not a secret alcoholic.. It was from the goody pack of the Bailey’s “exclusive party” that I was invited to. It was so “exclusive” that I left after about 5 minutes.
My boss came into my room carrying these 3 boxes and proudly declared that these are “some of the benefits that come with” working for him. Whoa! I thought, more free samples for me??!! Ended up they are cookies and New Year ching ching chongs from people who wanted to impress or “saka” him. CHEY. There was even one pair of CYMBALS in there! Geez.
The little corner where all the hot action and pressure build up everyday.. It’s really too cluttered and untidy for my liking but that would have to do for now. I haven’t had the time to do the usual housekeeping when he’s in town. Shall clean up next Wednesday when he’s off to Paris again. The lucky beast.
This is definitely one of the hidden perks of working for a fashion house. You get to put up juicy posters like these in your room and NOBODY will bat an eyelid. Try this in the uptight banking and finance industry and there will be HELL to reckon with. *rolls eyes* Am sooooo glad I am out of that now..
When stupid people bother me too much, like when they cannot understand the importance of not interrupting people when they are on the line, this is my last resort. Go away, shoo, leave me alone, go jump down the window or something.

But I didn’t blog about it cos I didn’t the title of the show, the head or the tail of it. Only caught a glimpse of the “proposing” part before I switched to the video channel to watch my SATC.

What really caught my attention was, the guy really took the effort to surprise his girlfriend, and he also said something to the effect of:

You may find another who you may like more than me, but you will never find another who loves you more than I do.

That’s really the most touching thing I have ever come across. No wonder the girl said yes.

****

You know some people who just get married just because they “have been dating for so long, might as well get married” or just follow the herd of courtship, marriage and the 2.3 kids?

I really cannot imagine living a mundane life like that, having life lead you around the bushes just because.

I heard some stories about some prominent families and socialities here in Singapore in the course of my work, and some just make me feel so sorry for them.

Imagine if you cannot marry the one you love, but the one your parents pick out to strengthen the family ties and business strategic alliance.

Imagine that you cannot have recourse of any sort, and must hide behind a facade of faux sophistication and worldliness when you husband is cheating on you right and left.

Imagine having to make decisions on who you marry based on not the capacity of your love and emotion towards the person, but on cold logic on how the person can contribute to your social standing and to your idea of what fits in.

I feel nothing but sympathy for these folks.

I don’t know about others but for me, I simply cannot be with a person for whom I have little or no love, and that’s regardless of how rich he is or how he cna contribute to my family’s business. If I am not happy in a relationship, I would waste no time on status quo or just dragging on aimlessly. No, I would cut my losses and move on. No point wasting either parties’ time. And if I am still seeing a guy after six months, that’s basically good news, because I have a very short attention span, and a even shorter fuse..

The kids were sleeping over at their father’s place on Monday night, so Big and I went out for supper at Upper Thomson.

After that we did something that I have not done in a very very very long time.

Sitting and talking at a deserted bus stop along an empty stretch of road in the middle of the night.

What were you thinking? tsk tsk tsk.

And we had such a good time talking that we were there for almost two hours and did not realise it.

The air was cool and the surroundings were quiet, so it was hardly surprising. It is quite hard to find a place in Singapore that we can just sit still together and feel the cool quiet air around us. Just spending some quiet time together. I may be ageing prematurely (30 is as 30 gets) but I no longer feel the attraction to partying and loud music as I had years ago.

Then we took a short walk aimlessly to just explore whatever we might come upon, hand in hand , he and I.

After about like, ten minutes or so, we found this:
And I had fun balancing on the ropes and climbing up to the top, although the rope was very rough and it did hurt a little.. It’s been a looooooooong time since I did that. Think perhaps 25 years ago. It felt strangely liberating.

As usual during CNY, the relatives who know about my marital status, will ask about my love life, and if I have “anyone” in my life. I always smile enigmatically and say jokingly, “nobody wants me.”

Those well meaning ones will offer to introduce some “nice boys who have good jobs”. And I can’t help but wonder 1) why would these “nice boys who have good jobs” want to date a divorcee with two young children and 2) why would these “nice boys with good jobs” have difficulty looking for a girlfriend or wife, which normally means they are already (surprise, surprise!) attached. And in case you were wondering about Big, well he is a nice boy with a good job who was seeing someone when I first got to know him but there’s another story for another day.

Anyway, I also wondered why these distant aunties would bother with their matchmaking services when I clearly did not request for any such blind dates or such nonsense. Then I recalled that some bloggers were doing this some time back, asking for blind dates on their blog.

I asked Big over lunch, what would he think if I really did something like that. And well perhaps throw in a semi naked picture somewhere for good measure.

I think I got the poor man a little worried. Hahahaha!

Germaine, Geanyne and my cousin

Geanyne in the rock garden

Late night supper:

Geanyne wanted to play scissors, paper and stone with Big while we were waiting for food to be served.. First game: scissors vs stone and the G cat promptly declared that her scissors won.

Then she gave him a mischievous laugh during the next game when he showed his move, that “no one is playing with him already”.

In the words of Big,”I feel so snooked”

I tried to stifle my laughter, but to no avail.

I wanted this:

but I spied this during my company’s sample sale and I swopped in and claimed my prey. It’s really gorgeous. I love the braided leather handles and the pale gold hardware. Oh, and the tote is just roomy enough, with the requisite mobile and miscellaneous pockets. The lining is satin, one of my favourite fabrics for linings, next to suede.

I also got the tote featured in fornt, and the leather is a dreamy softness.

The one that got away. I reserved this, but they decided that they needed to keep this as a reference sample so it got away from my talons very reluctant fingers.

Sigh. And I do so hate to buy at retail price, after being spoilt from corporate discounts.. Oh well, shall think it over the weekend, whether to get this or the YSL muse..

I would like to wish all my blogders a Happy Lunar New Year!!

The usual. May you all have good fortune, even better luck and the best of health, love and happiness in the new year. *grins*

New year for me and the kids are the same yearly. We make our rounds to my maternal family in Telok Kurau and Aljunied, and then to my ex in-laws’ place so that the kids can wish their grandparents New Year wishes.

It’s the same every year, just that this year is the second year that my grandma is not around. Sometimes I still feel her presence in the corner where she sat in her wheelchair. Sometimes in the room where she used to sleep, I still walk in, half expecting to find her lying there and always ready to listen to me share a fragment of my life.

And that she is gone, I miss her so much. I still do, even though it’s been almost two years that she had passed on.

I have so many things to tell her, to update her on my life, the excitement of my new job. So many things.

It’s just not the same without her around. And I still feel the void she left in my heart.

It’s a great movie. I loved it, and that’s rare, given the essence and quality of movies these days. But if you are the teary type or just PMSing, do NOT under circumstances go watch it. Unless you are bent on embarrassing yourself, like I did, then don’t. It’s a gritty raw film that explores the addiction to drugs and the tenacity of the grip that drugs have on the sanity and reason of addicts. Andy Lau was fantastic as the self justifying good guy/ bad guy drug lord and the little girl (I don’t know the name) was really perfect for the role. She was natural, innocent and tugged at my heart strings like a sonata on violin.

Yes, throw in a little girl with a drug addict mother, and I am ready to roll with the tears. Yes, yes I am a disgusting crybaby when it comes to little girls. And the worst thing about me is that I get so engrossed.. I can actually feel myself in the role of the actor as in how he or she would feel in that particular frame. And so, in the time frame of barely 1.5 hours, I felt a myriad of emotions like anger, disgust, shock, fear, nostalgia, sadness and more abject sadness. It was so bad that at times, I was struggling to hold back the tears.

A bit of a spoiler here, if you intend to go watch the movie, don’t read on. Basically it’s about a little girl about 4 or 5 years old, and her drug addict mother and father, who later appeared in the movie and terrorised mother and child. Scene shots of the little girl removing the needle from the mother’s arm after she is unconscious on the couch, and of the little girl being starved out of her mind because the mother didn’t feed her really got to me. And a particular scene where she is being dressed up in her uniform and school bag and she was so happy that she was finally getting to go to school; but actually her scum of a father was only making use of her to sell pills, really pushed me over the edge. It was so heart-wrenching to hear her keep asking when she is going to go to school. It made me think of this case in Singapore where a drug addict mother made use of her eight year old son to go buy drugs for her. It’s really sad.

And so, it was rather embarrassing for me as I was out with Mr Big and was struggling to refrain from sobbing right there and then. Thankfully it was a midnight show and therefore not so many people. There was only one other girl in the audience and according to Big (cos I was too busy bawling my eyes out) she was also tearing up and her boyfriend was hugging and comforting her. Sigh.

Honestly, when I told Big that I wanted to watch the show, it’s because the trailers seem so very Infernal Affairs and I thought the show was about drug lords, busting drug drops and all that. Macho stuff and guns you know. Little did I know what I was in for.

A dialogue from the movie did its echo of significance in my mind.

Why do people take drugs? It’s because of the emptiness inside. So which is more frightening, the drugs or the emptiness?

I would say it’s the emptiness. It’s engulfing, may times worse than loneliness and many times more difficult to get out of.

Been there.

I feel so blessed and protected that even in my darkest moments, and in the period when I moved out when I was young and did a whole lot of wild partying, I never did fall into the abyss of drugs.

I guess what the bible says is true. God will never test us beyond more than what we can bear.

Anyway, the movie affected me so much that I couldn’t speak on the way home, for fear of bursting into tears and freaking Big out, and I had to lock myself in the bathroom and had a good eye cleansing session for a bit before I feel safe to be able to speak normally to Big.

It’s such an embarrassment.

Note to self: avoid all potential tearjerkers when PMSing.

I just had the most amazing day today.

And no, it’s not because Miranda is not in town. Hah. It’s because it’s Sample Sale day!

Now, our sample sales are all very impromptu and last minute affairs. This is to prevent irritating people from pestering the buyers to let them “reserve” stuff and any such nonsense.

Of course, for certain “elite” (hah!) people, it’s different. The email went out that the sale will start from 12 – 3pm, but at 10am, a few other “privileged individuals” and I were in the accessories room, running through the collections and picking out our bags. *beams* You gotta love the privileges accorded to you when you are the darling of the bosses. Heh.

Anyway. The point is not that I got to reserve stuff when so many others don’t. The point is, this little bitch had the gall to steal my reserved bag! She tore off the reserved tag and plastic cover that had my name written all over it, and tried to buy it!

What audacity.

Thankfully for me and unluckily for her, I caught her red-handed and let’s just say she wouldn’t even dare to look me in the eye when I pulled out the bag from the pile of other stuff she tried to hide it under. My sharp eyes factored it out the minute I walked onto the sales floor.

Bitch. Unbelievable.

And she had the cheek to say that the bag didn’t have any tags or covering when she saw it. Right. And Chewbacca is hairless.

****

I volunteered to help prepare for the sale as M is not in town and that means I am being paid to sit around looking glamourous and surfing or blogging. Hahahaha. So, was in the accessories room helping to set the pricing and tagging for the samples when this idiot brand executive and his assistant came in and started getting on our nerves.

Not only did they not offer any help (when they really should), they started bothering us with stupid inane questions. I am sure my face was cold with displeasure but of course, these people were either too dense or too thick skinned to really care. No wonder he is well known as M’s whipping boy. M has the habit of chewing him out as 1) he is really stupid and not on top of his job as he should be, that is why he’s still Brand Executive instead of Brand Manager, despite the opening being there, desperate to be filled. And 2) he is really not the sharpest knife in the stack. Working with someone like M requires one to be sharp, alert and always ready to answer questions. And he is none of that. We are all holding our breaths as to when he will be fired.

And did I mention I absolutely love the gays in this company. They are so deliciously BITCHY with a capital B! We had the meanest time laughing about clueless people in this company and wondering how the hell they chose to work in a fashion house when they possess such sense of style. And then the other gay guy said, “WHAT STYLE?” and we all hooted with laughter.

I wanted to channel Coco Chanel today so was wearing a rose grey silk blouse with a ribbon tied at the V neck and black pencil skirt with tiny little white polka dots, accessorized with champagne pearls and black patent peep toes. One of them squealed, “Tres chic!” when he caught a glimpse of me. Yes, very drama I know. But these dudes are really the drama queens.

****

Big and I met for lunch today at my favourite place in Palais: Marmalade. I had the ribeye steak sandwich and he had the Fois Gras Burger. It was sooooooooooo good. I know the whole cruelty thing about eating the liver of geese that were force fed with fats to make them obese, so don’t start on me ok? I just love my fois gras and my sharksfin. Big said that if I love fois gras so much, he is bringing me to the Sunday Brunch at Ritz Carlton where they have really fantabulous fois gras buffet. I almost died there and then.. *drool*

Oh, and he loved my whole get together too.

***

Anyway: I bought these two babies.

the picture doesn’t do it justice. it is GORGEOUS.

I almost got this baby… except that they pulled it

out of the sale because they needed to keep it as a

reference sample.

Grrrrgggghh

So yesterday was Valentine’s. I don’t buy too much into it what with the overpriced flowers and sudden inflation at restaurants.

But I did feel a little blue yesterday. Nothing to do with Mr Big. Just got a little pensive musing about my failed marriage.

My boss’ wife left her college studies to get married to him. She was only 19. I don’t know, maybe it is their religious tradition to listen to their parents who arranged the marriage, or it’s just common for their race; for the girls to marry young. And no, it was not a shotgun marriage. Both families are too prominent for such a radical scandal.

And happy they were. Oh well, my boss has his temper and there were times where he screamed at her in front of the staff. Times when he told her “not to be stupid”. Times when he just about chewed her head off. But really deep down inside, I think he just adores her to pieces. This Valentine’s he was so sweet and asked me to order red roses for her with such a very sweet and romantic note. I loved the expression on her face when he presented her with the flowers! She was so surprised and happy. Then she came and thanked me effusely for arranging such a beautiful bouquet for her too. I like it when I make my boss and his wife happy.

And he bought her a $20,000 diamond ring.

*swoon*

Actually that’s what set me thinking. Why are both marriages so different. Both of us married young. Both married a man with a scary temper. Yet, the result is so drastically different.

Different lives, different fates.

I must learn to accept the failure of my marriage. Not that I am still clinging to the hope of salvaging it. No way, jose. It’s just that I am a person who likes to win. I’m a perfectionist and competitive by nature. And it never fails to piss me off that I failed at my marriage. I hate failing in anything. I just HATE it.

It’s like a speck of dirt in the pristine order of my life. A speck of dirt that I can’t wipe out.

***

Big and I went out and had our little celebration too. Knowing how stupidly expensive it would be in restaurants, I did NOT want to spend like what? S$400 – 600 on a meal? So ridiculous. I rather spend it on Christian Louboutin.

Instead, we went to this fantastic porridge place that I absolutely adored, and had frog legs, fried intestines and raw fish with porridge. In the words of Carrie Bradshaw, it was “abso-fucking-lutely” delicious. And with the right company, anything tastes great, really. And I got my cutsy little arrangement of flowers. I think he knows me really well. The pragmatic mummy in me will be horrified if he had gotten me a bamboozle bouquet of flowers that costs a bamboozle bomb.

Everyday feels like Valentine’s Day if it’s the right person.

Damn, I still have not recovered from the throat infection and have been croaking disgustingly for the last few days. “Miranda” looked a little freaked out when i spoke to him in an unusually hoarse voice, as you might expect from him, he is the kind of man that expects aesthetics in his visual and audio environment. And a croaking PA, albeit nicely groomed, did not quite figure in the equation.

Still, I braved through the adrenaline and the croaking last week, but today when I woke up, I saw the moon and the stars, and they were not of the fantastic variety that Mr Big shown me over the weekend..

So. Had to thrown in the white flag and so I smsed him his diary for today and that I need to take a day off. Felt rather bad as he is rather dependent on me* so when I got his sms, “ok.. feel better…” I felt a little bad. But still, better to rest at home and go back tomorrow with a better disposition than to rough it out and end up with a full blown throat infection that will ground me for days.

*A incident that got me rather bemused. I don’t know if it’s the affliction of the upper society folks, or if he is just too used to asking me to do stuff for him. Just the other day, he was talking with his wife in the pantry where she is making herself some coffee and halfway through the conversation, he walked to my room and asked me to make coffee for him.

It’s so weird!The wife was standing next to him and he did not even ask her to make his coffee, preferring instead to ask me to do it. I am just wondering if rich taitais are too spoilt to make coffee for their husbands, or perhaps he is just too used to getting me do stuff for him.. Hmm.

***

I don’t know about other women, but when I fall ill, I do so like to be cosseted and pampered. It used to be cuddling in the bed and quilt after drinking mum’s chicken soup and the usual dose of medicine. Now, I find myself missing his presence and his cuddling. And since we are past the stage where he had seen me without makeup, and each other with bed-trouseled hair, I feel comfortable and natural with him, even without the protective veneer of outward presentation.

I miss his “toastiness” most of all. It’s so nice to cuddle up inside those strong arms and broad shoulders. It’s so nice to cuddle up to a “toasty” warm body when it’s cold.

I think he has spoilt me thoroughly. And in more ways than one. Sigh.

I forgive the stupid cleaner who was supposed to make and serve drinks for my morning meeting. She stupidly (or conveniently) forgot so I, the highest paid tealady in the whole of Singapore and possibly Batam, had to do it. Made and served coffee for all 9 people who came for the meeting. This is decidedly a step down from my SQ days… but never mind.

In fact, I refuse to let anything spoil my mood today.

Because… Mr Big is coming back today!!

*Whoppee* *jiggly dance*

I missed him tremendously.

Snippets from the fashion industry:

“Who is he with now? XXX? FUCK LAH! Internal people, can interrupt meeting one!”

“What the $%^&I??!! I put on my lipstick to talk to him, and he went off?!”

Gay dude: “Does my bum look big in this?”

Two obscure designers (who were the It designers back in the 90s) I remember fondly are Hervé Léger and Azzedine Alaïa.

HL used to do fabulous band dresses that lift and cling in all the right places.. I remember trying on a creation of his and man oh man, it made me like I had a 22 inch waist (in reality it was 25 inch), D cup boobs (actually C cup without aid) and extra perky butt (originally perky without aid hahaha). Remarkable. He was like, the king of sexy couture back in the 90s, and amongst all the designers, Iman chose him to do her wedding dress. Smart choice I say.

Well, after keeping low for quite a bit, after the split with BCBG and all that, he has not resurfaced as Hervé L. Leroux. Does it mean band dresses are going back? If so, I welcome them onto my bosom literally… *grins*

As for AA, the heralded King of Cling, whose dresses prominently cups the bosom and butt lovingly, it seems like he plain vanished from fashion’s radar. No beep no news about him since 2003 when he came to Singapore for the Singapore Fashion Festival back then. I loved both designers. Their creations were such works of art and screamed womanly sensuality. They truly understood the woman’s body. Rarely and really, there are designers who get sensuality like that these days.

*****

OK I might seem like I have all the time in the whole world to blog but really, that’s only because my Miranda is in Paris enjoying the Fashion Week for XXXXXX (confidential name of huge fashion house we are wooing) Am not a huge fan of their bags (too girly and not sophisticated enough for me) but the shoes are nice enough.

But even after my management discount, it’s still about $390 odd for a pair of shoes. I much rather buy a Kate Spade bag for S$300.00 more, but that’s just me.

Different story if it’s Manolo Blahniks or Christian Louboutins though..

Anyway, my Miranda’s coming back on Thursday and there will be hell let loose. Because *ominous music* it’s our brand’s Fashion Week next Wednesday to Friday and all the international buyers will be in town to trash grace our showroom and give our bamboozles of orders.. I hear the Kah chinks already!

And I am so damn excited. All that models’ fitting, evening discussions on run throughs, arguing about accessories and the coordination and choreography..

And it all comes into play next week!

Chrysalis.