1) The food is very good. It’s all about fresh produce and glorious, fresh seafood. I had oysters five days out of ten that I was there. The oysters at Otto were the best. They were served with salmon roe on top, amongst other things. You also have to go to Golden Century, the Chinese restaurant that’s open round the clock. It’s an institution.
2) Even though you’re in a big city, you’re always surrounded with nature. You’ll see heaps of trees, parks, gardens, etc. Oh and birds. There are birds everywhere! It’s all about the birds. I made friends with a group of seagulls near the Opera House.
3) It’s a very health-conscious city. There are tons of people running, jogging all over the place. In between the shows (on a weekday afternoon), Rumi and I saw at least three dozen guys collectively doing ab crunches and situps in the park.
4) Everything you need is right under your nose. It’s very convenient city to get around. Cabs are plentiful (you can hail them on the street like New York, unlike in Europe) and all the places you need to go is within a 5-20 minute cab ride.
5) The beach is a stone’s throw away. Bondi beach is super beautiful!
6) Speaking of Bondi beach, Bondi Icebergs is one of my favourite places in town. Be sure to visit in the afternoon and have a very late lunch followed by cocktails during sunset. The view is spectacular.
7) People are super friendly and helpful. Sydneysiders are very curious, very chatty and very smiley. They’re kinda like good looking, healthier, all-natural versions of British people in Los Angeles.
8) Sydney feels very safe. There aren’t many cities in the world where I feel safe (I got mugged in Paris twice for instance) but Sydney seems to be safe enough. Maybe because there are tons of Asians (there are areas of Sydney where I feel like I’m in Singapore or Hongkong)??? I mean, Asians, in general, are mostly peaceful people…
9) You have a take a sunset cruise along Sydney Harbour aboard someone’s yacht. It’s magnificent.
10) There are tons of hot guys. I kid you not!!! Lord have mercy on me. Several blogger colleagues could not stop staring at hot guys left and right. Just look — don’t talk or touch!
G’day mate! Just a quick photo moment with Grace the Koala at the Taronga Zoo yesterday afternoon…
Hey ladies — I’m thrilled to be back in Sydney! It’s been four years since my last visit. I’m back in town for this year’s Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week Australia as a guest of Destination NSW. The New South Wales Government launched an exciting initiative yesterday afternoon where they picked Australian fashion designers Camilla Franks, Camilla Freeman-Topper, Dion Lee, Rachel Gilbert and shoe designer Terry Biviano, to act as Fashion Ambassadors to show guests, like myself and my friends, Rumi Neely, Candice Lake amongst others, their version of Sydney — where they work, shop, eat, drink and play. I was paired with the lovely Camilla Franks; her work is known for her stunning use of colour and prints.
I look forward to seeing you all over the next few days. I can’t wait to make new memories in Sydney!
Replay Jeans debuted their ‘Laserblast‘ collection during Salone del Mobile in Milan last week. Laserblasting is an eco-friendly and safe method of creating distressed denim; a great alternative to the old, not to mention dangerous, way of sandblasting jeans. I went to the launch at Replay’s flagship store at Corso Vittorio Emanuele.
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If there’s one thing you must get this season, why not consider a strong, printed trouser? I’m a sucker for printed pants. I love how I can pair them off with anything! I haven’t worn my Dolce & Gabbana spring/summer aubergine trousers since fashion month and now that I’m back in Italy, why not wear it again? The cheeky aubergine print warranted quite a number of stares; a young Italian boy, probably not older than ten, screamed ‘bello!’ at my direction. I don’t know whether I should be flattered or what.
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Greetings from Venezia! I’m back in Italy (and mind you, back into my daily work grind) after a quick vacation back home in the Manila. The BF and I thought it would be a great idea to take visit Venice (the real one, not the Las Vegas version) now instead of going here during summer. The two-and-a-half hour train from Milan (which felt as if it was the longest train ride of my life) was worth it. Venice is soo beautiful! It’s probably my favourite Italian city so far.
Sunglasses and watch by Michael Kors, bracelet by Hermes, shirt by Uniqlo, sweater by Comme des Garcons, trousers and shoes by Prada, bag by Valentino
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I can’t remember the last time I danced for hours. It’s one thing to go to a night club and sway the odd, spastic hip here and there and it’s another thing to down a dozen vodka red bulls, throw caution to the wind and do a proper all-night sweat-a-thon dance bender. I was an avid clubber when I was younger. I’ve been to many clubs and raves back in the day, gone through countless glowsticks and pacifiers and lollipops and platform shoes and pills and god knows what else. I’ve seen people vomit, faint, foam in the mouth, etc. I’d wear my shades not at night but in the morning. Sun rise meant it was time to go home. Or to a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend’s apartment for an afterparty.
Cocaine to my ears…
And I feel what you feel, and I do what you do. And I feel like I’m falling, falling, falling… feeeeeeeeeeel feeeeeeel feeeeel!
I dunno. There’s just something so therapeutic submitting oneself to the beat of uplifting music, throw arms in the air and jump and dance and roar like a wild animal.
Times definitely have changed though. Wind the clocks forward and here I am, a morning person, hitting the hotel breakfast buffet whenever possible. Sunlight became my best friend. Without it, I won’t have images for my blog.
I’d pop by the odd club and most places feel like four-walled rooms filled with boozed posers. Barely anyone dances, etc. I went to this “Black and White” party at the Teatro Versace in Milan last week and while the venue was packed, you can count with two hands the number of people shaking their booties. What happened to those days when people spilled drinks on each other and no one cared because everyone was dancing and everyone worshipped the DJ?
In this day and age of social media and cellphones and facebook and twitter and twitpic, people became camera-ready creatures. Now I can’t even go to a club and dance carelessly until I feel like a sweaty sponge without anyone tapping my shoulder every few minutes to ask for a photo. I don’t mind doing this of course but also, it would be nice to have a night off. It would be nice to do what I went to the club for…. to be anonymous, to let my hair down, have a nice drink and dance the night away.
I thought I’d share some photos from my Las Vegas birthday vacation. I’ll let these images do the talking. For now at least. My brain is fried!! Hah. More images to follow! I love you all.
Click click click for 55+ photos after the jump!
I’ll never forget this girl named Katrina in my school bus back when I was in freshman high school. I must have been 13 at that time. While all the other kids played with each other in the bus, I chose to read my mom’s magazines. Back issues of Vogue were my after-school best friend. They made that agonizing thirty minute ride home bearable. Whenever Gucci ad pages came up, Katrina, who sat across me, always chanted “look at my Gucci watch, look at my Gucci watch!” before shoving her wrist to my face. If memory served me right, she was the daughter of a lawyer and for what seemed like eternity, she bragged about her stupid Gucci watch that she received as a gift. It was sickening. Deep down inside, I felt rather inferior because all I had at that time was this neon orange and neon green rubber and fabric “POP” Swatch that my aunt gave me as a Christmas present. I’m not a combative type of person so I didn’t say anything. Besides, she was a year older than me. She had Benetton accessories. I had Penshoppe (a Filipino brand akin to I dunno, Forever 21). I simply shut up and flipped through my magazines. That same year, I begged my parents to buy me that iconic Prada black nylon backpack with two pockets on the front. My parents weren’t having it from a thirteen year old child, of course. It wasn’t until I was fifteen that my mom finally bought one for me.
Fast forward a decade and a half later… I popped by the Prada store on Corso Venezia in Milan last week to stock up on some spring/summer goodies. I bought another pair of golf shoes, two trousers and this navy blue backpack. Just seeing it on the rack (they come in gray and brown as well) brought back childhood memories. I took it out for a spin in Amsterdam this weekend.
Hat, shirt, shorts by Acne, sunglasses by Yves Saint Laurent, jacket gifted by Versace, backpack and shoes by Prada
I guess one cannot erase the emotional scars of yesteryear (I can’t say I’m very angry because thinking about it, we were all young and naive) but let me tell you, walking out of a store after buying something you really like, on your own terms, with your own money, is always an exhilarating experience.
Like a big FUCK YOU to everyone.