A Day Ends

The neighbour three doors down pops his head out his kitchen window as if to summon for rain. But his dance is interrupted by the heaving breathe of a jogger on his last lap, pleading with his legs for at least two more. He wouldn't make it; sheer determination alone will not hold up those sagging shoulders. But then again he just might. Let's place our bets on the underdog! The children refuse to abandon the playground to the night, waging a battle they will loose by 9 when the street lights flicker on and off before finally settling on a watt for the night. Everything will empty out soon, folding carefully into their correct place for the night. Sirens will wander in and out of our living rooms blaring over our television sets and domestic conversations. A plane or two will hover past sometime in the night, and some, unable to sleep, with look up through their ceilings, following the noise to where they imagine a day is yet to break. © fashionandfables

Gold Lace Alexander McQueen

"The rain has drowned out our heartbeats
and we count the passing cars and faint voices
towering over the drizzle
blindly naming the maladies that race by
ignoring our chapped skies
we sink deeper and deeper into our shared illusions of drought"© fashionandfables

"

That Thing Around Your Neck

The things that we carry around with us, heavy and loaded, are normally hidden away and compartmentalized; grief is slipped into a back pocket; fear is folded gentle like a handkerchief into a purse, prejudiced tucked away in a tattered case designed for spectacles. But what we wear around our necks, are the heaviest and the most visible perhaps not to the wearer, but to the rest of the world; they are our very own shackles, capable of drowning or adorning us.

The 12 protagonist in Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's collection of short stories " That Thing Around Your Neck" all have neck pieces of different types and shapes, but inherently there are all forged from duality: the duality that stems from living within two cultures (Nigerian and American), of tradition and modernity, past and future and self and other.

The stories also explore the concept of personal and political spaces, using the lives of characters to cast a bigger light on issues threatening the moral compass of a country and exposing a fundamental loss. This is especially evident in 'A Private Experience" where the unfolding of a violent riot in the north of Nigeria brings together a Christian student and a Muslim mother.

After loss comes grief. Grief is an emotion many characters, if not all, struggle with in this collection. Some losses are more tangible than others, like the unnamed protagonist in " The American Embassy" whose neck is swollen from the death of a child due to the writings of her political-activist journalist husband. Does grief overweigh personal survival? Then there is the Professor in "Ghosts". A survivor of the Biafra War, he sits as the evening breeze wafts down a balmy night, listening out for "the sounds doors opening and closing" and the arrival of ghosts to ease his plight.

The loss of ideals and dreams is also central. In Imitation, Nkem, is a wife living in America without her "Big-Man" husband. She has settled into her life, her children are Americanised, she has weekly pilates class and she knows how to navigate a world much colder than what she is used to. But there is that thing around her neck; imitation of a marriage. Her only friend is a housegirl her husband brought over from Nigeria to help. There is that loneliness that comes with a life where a husband is only a companion for 2 months out of the year and infidelity is expected.

Some time is spent on exploring marriages and romantic relationships. These unions have a lot in common: they are marred with expectations and disappointment, especially from the female perspective.
Ultimately, women are at the heart of this collection. Aside from one male narrator, the stories are about females, all of them strong in their own unique way. And that's the beauty of the collection, hope is never to far behind. You might not agree with what a character decides to do with their neckpiece, but it is always a decision carried by strength of conviction. The story that closes the collection, " The Headstrong Historian" is about a strong woman and her legacy. Her ability to use her neck piece in her favour to see " that the thing that wrapped itself around your neck, that nearly choked you before you feel asleep , started to loosen , to let go."

Hello like before

"I stalled time
and convinced her to do my bidding
to colour me blind
fit me a crown
strip me bare
and into whirlpool back home"
before the clock struck dawn
© fashionandfables

Hello like before. Those of you familiar with Bill Withers will know i stole that from a song :) But , but, I am sure he doesn't mind me borrowing his words.
It feels a little like coming back home after a holiday; while you loved being away it's great to leave your luggage at the door, sink back into your comfy chair before you unpack the souvenirs and make time for melancholy.
So where i have i been. I ran away with the circus to be a juggler. I juggled flame torches, tossed knives in the air while in cages with lions and walked a thin wire with my eyes closed. Okay, i am embellishing a bit :). But, it feels that way most days.
I am back. And soon to be qualified yoga instructor. High five me. Not to worry, i could never really stop writing. This is in addition to everything else. I got this. I got this.
I got this like the fierce Solange in her awesome bra top by Nina Ricci. I want it. I am not joking.I do feel like i need an occasion to walk around in what is essentially underwear, i will find one, not to worry :) I think i should throw a party just so i can wear a bra top and skirt; what's the point of having abs and not enjoying it.
The shoot is from weeks ago; i cut it out of ES magazine! It's awesome. i am back!

Clémence Poésy; bon chic

Clémence Poésy for Glamour UK Feb 2012




I kinda heart Clémence Poésy. I even kinda want her name and her nationality; this goes beyond coveting her wardrobe . Just finished writing about her for work, and i am further in love with her clothes. I am thinking and scheming of ways to meet her and get those red wash skinny jeans
So chic. so simple.
such shiny hair as well. i am going to dream about those jeans!

Bonne année. Bon Hiver.

Shala Monoroque for Vogue Nippon Jan 2012

I am a little late to the party, but i hear it's fashionable to be late! Anyways, my dear readers who should really be asleep at this time of the night, Happy freaking New Year.
Currently listening to the Bon Iver. Bon Iver is like my muse. My hairy, indy, hipster muses. Right now, i would probably marry Justin Vernon no questions asked; he writes so beautifully! Sure, i can't understand most of it?! But it's okay!

I have great plans for this year.
For one, I want to be an awesome part time yoga teacher. If i become one of those really douchy ones that kinda yell at people for mixing up their left legs with their right, please, by all means, feel free to smack me in the face. Really hard. I will provide the smacking plank for the job. i.

I also want to wear more red. Red is the colour of the root chakras which allows us to experience the basics. I also look nice and friendly in red. Okay, enough granola talk.
Real talk.
I don't really do resolutions, i set intentions.( i stole that from some yogis in my class, :)
Well, my main intention is to be healthy, that's always my intention, i am always easy like that. Healthy physically but also emotionally in my interactions with people and the likes. And i think the last part is not always as easy.

I also intend on making a shit load of money so i can buy that read dress in the picture- i thought i needed to balance the granola talk with some hardcore consumerist intentions! :)
It's been a crazy challenging year with a couple of pity parties already, but after the party is the afterparty, and my afterparties is when i get really creative and turn all the "bad" stuff into my USP.
So here is to my red dress.
Here is to Vogue Nippon
Bon Hiver= Happy Winter

Ode to Cos

COS is the honey to my bee
the yin to my yang
the bread to my jam
the apple to my retina
COS had me a C
Cos completes me.
I am not good at ODE as you can tell :)

But you get where i am going with this: I freaking love COS. They neatly fold and wrap up your bought items in coloured crepe paper scented with eau d' "buy more at COS we are awesome" it's a mighty powerful scent to resist.
But COS is also tres expensive. Well, it's not like it's uber expensive.. but it's the kind of store you can't walk out with five or six bags without having to live on water for a week.
Been stalking their site to see when the sale start so i can buy that one piece of item i lusted at (self-control yoh)
But here are a couple of my favourite COS items.
Merry Christmas! 3 more days until Santa comes a knocking down that chimney!