And chipmunk alert

 (Would you just look at that holding frame, DERP written all over) Wearing: Top – Marc Jacobs. Trousers – Iris & Ink at The Outnet. Shoes – Christian Louboutin

One other thing I generally suck at: speaking. Case in point, see above. And you’d think since it’s one thing you do everyday you get better at it, like walking – in fact, one sucks at walking too. IT’S JUST DIFFICULT OKAY. Scarily, my skills in public speech (or lack thereof) has always been a deal-breaker/maker of almost every junction in life, starting with my English IB orals in high school that single-handedly reduced mighty dreams of Modern History at Oxbridge to colouring at artschool (fun fact: CSM’s IB requirement is 26, which is basically the lowest ‘pass’ point in IB) (of course, one requires a killer portfolio and generally must appear mad-for-art to qualify). If I remember correctly there was a bit of Eminem’s Stan (ft. Dido) lyrics snuck into a Macbeth passage interpretation. Examiner clearly had no sense of humour, or swag, yo. Fast forward to late 2012, I take the exact same bag of skills to the Outnet shoot, fully expecting my character to be killed off in the pilot. What you’re seeing here is hours of painstaking editing, separating of the sane and insane moments, and sewing them seamlessly all together, all courtesy of the video wizards; and let’s not forget Ciara the lovely makeup artist, who eventually had to muster up a pot of peach-coloured acrylic paint to cover up a very scarlet face. So I do realize this is like admitting hey I’m kinda hot after someone’s photoshopped my head onto Jessica Alba’s body, but I quite like how it turned out! Plus, the shop edit they put together for me has rather awesome pieces that makes me look like I belong in Tommy Ton/Nam’s streetstyle snaps. It’s all good fantasizing fun.

My favourite froyo in London, Tutti Frutti in Covent Garden

Military Navy Coat – Zara. Grey Jeans – Urban Outfitters. Waffle-knit Sweater – COS. Structured shirt – Zara. Shoes – Kurt Geiger Ella. Snakeskin Bag – Marc by Marc Jacobs. Cheeeers Kit for the shots!

I’m going to let you in on a secret, and while I know that if I just carried on like this only a small percentage of you who have mastered the skill of reading will be privvy to this information, but I’m just going to need a bit more audience for this one. CATS CATS CATS BOOBS WEINERSCHNITZEL BIGGER BOOBS CATS BACON. There. Welcome, ten new members of the reading club! Back to what I was going to say – believe it or not, I have an ‘editorial schedule’ for this blog. You’re meant to be seeing posts every two days, three if delayed but no longer than that. Yeah but your blog is like Skyping with grandma in Tibet is what you’re saying, and I get it, I go quiet for so long you wonder if I died at the end of the line, or I give out an incoherent cackle at one go…  and I smell of goat urine, I get it. The secret I wanted to share, is that it takes FOREVER to write this blurb and usually the prime cause of post congestion. I have plenty of photographic content, but words don’t come easy. In my defense I wrote my last semi-decent essay six years ago in highschool (dissertation? that thing in art school I wrote in blood?) and my vocabulary basket (made in Tibet) is leaking words. I know I never write anything profane or philosophical, in fact these blurbs should essentially be put in the same category as the noise that modems used to make back in the early days, but I guess the problem arises mainly from the fact that I really am not interested in writing about the outfit above… there’s only so much I can tell you about grey jeans. I plan to wear this next week, what do I say THEN? So there’s that’s the secret, I’m an idiot. Shini had an OK day, and bought a Coke Zero at the gas station… and wore white shoes in January. Raise the roof.

You couldn’t SEO this blog even if you tried.

Pho-buddy Kit

Yu, manager of Tokyobike UK and streetstyle photographer

Wearing: Jacket – Barbour. Puffer down vest – Gap. Shoes – Isabel Marant. Jeans – James Jeans. Gloves – Muji touchscreen gloves

Oy vey, how does one follow up with a car pile-up equivalent of a bi-annual existential ramble? First off, I swear I didn’t mean to come off questioning whether or not to quit blogging entirely, that’s not in the plans. I was meant to valiantly survive an apocalypse along with sexy Emma Stone and some cockroaches, remember? I’m not going anywhere, I happen to like dressing and undressing in public (throw me a penny will ya). I did sit in bed reading your comments though, quivering at times, and at the end thought bit of poop-head, aren’t I – I’ve near-become one of those douche-baguettes that leave their amazing boyfriends for a guy that will only date me for my lumps (or lack thereof). My sincerest apologies, you’re amazing, make-up snog?

Have a bit of Pho, at least. I guess I was saving this post exactly for an occasion like this, for times we can all do with a bit of a pick-me-up. When our Editer.com offices used to be based in Old Street the Pho Cafe on St John street was a guilty indulgence, and on colder days I’d cycle back with the team’s order stuffed in my front-basket, leaving a visible trail of steam in my wake. We’d then open all the windows, stuff a napkin down our collars and slurp down the hot pho, for an indoor picnic was all we could afford during busy times. So this is sort of a fantasy come true. Kit and I rented a couple of Tokyobike bikes for the occasion, and on mentioning ‘pho’, Yu (owner) immediately mounted his own bike and proposed to act as captain guide. It was yum.

BTW, when I really want to close this blog, I won’t dare do it with that kind of a whimper – I thrive from exaggeration (see title), my reasoning will be anything but legitimate. (i.e I need to focus on my career of oiling Iron Man suits)

Jacket – c/o Francis Leon. Skirt – ASOS (on sale now!). Shoes – Jeffrey Campbell (‘inspired’ from, Acne Terra). Bag – Coach. Lace Top – Motel Rocks. Belt – LV.

Today I woke up when it was already dark out, and had a steaming cup of apple cider for breakfast not too long ago, spiced it too – a swig of vanilla extract, a dash of ground cinnamon – good stuff. New Year’s resolutions? Haven’t met him. Instead of making an extensive list of must do‘s and must quit’s, this year I decided it might be easier to condense all that into one line: Get it together, woman; and this blog falls right in the middle of it. P&C has been growing into a big part of my life (time-wise, if anything), yet I still have absolutely no clue where this is going. I feel foolish doing outfit posts, knowing clearly it’s not anything worth documenting (thanks to one too many ‘screw this, nobody cares, I’m wearing track pants tomorrow’ during fashion weeks), most of the travels I do are in the mercy of some generous sponsor (that now all seem to prefer the tall, pretty ones with 6-digit followings), and in truth I’m making just enough to pay for my dedi-server every month + snacks.

I know I should be content with what I already have, especially my readers many of whom I’ve had the pleasure of getting to know better via emails, but every day we’re bombarded with what we don’t have, and it sucks because it casts a shadow on your own achievements and efforts, equally amazing in their own right. Ultimately, I’m afraid that I am wasting my time doing something completely unimportant in the large scheme of things – am I really loving my neighbours and fearing God? (Ironic to be saying all this under a vain outfit post, but hey, would you read this more if it were under a moody pic of a misty field?) All questions to answer in the coming year. Do we have any more end-of-the-worlds in 2013? I could do with a deadline.