I've moved on...
...to a different domain. Why, what were you thinking? The truth is, I just woke up one day and decided it's time for a change—a metamorphosis, if you will; or, in layman's terms, if Britney can shave her head, then maybe so can I? Nevertheless, it's been a rather handsome 10 years of talking to you, and thank you for putting up with all my moodswings and terrible dad jokes. Fear not! The hormonal imbalance and jokes are more terrible on CUBICLE, see you there.


Complexion vs. colour, with Guerlain Terracotta 4 Seasons Bronzer

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Wearing: Top & skirt – Zara. Guerlain Terracotta 4 Seasons bronzer. Terracotta Kabuki brush. Parure de Lumiere fluid foundation. Clis d’Enfer Maxi Lash Mascara. Rouge Shine Automatique Lipstick. Photos with help from Kit!

It’s hard to explain – especially how the sun is increasingly sexy (and it knows it) by day – that tanning is on the last of my beauty to-do list this summer. It seems ungrateful, doesn’t it, like declaring a water-diet while your mother pulls out a lasagna from the oven. I’m pretty sure you have/are that one friend from the Far East, who will walk in the shade and always carry a sun cream with SPF numbers appropriate for Count Dracula to play ball at the beach. And for those baffled few, it’s the Asian (oriental, to be precise) age-old understanding of beauty – the fairer your skin, the higher up the class you’re perceived to be, while tanned skin suggested a rice-paddy lifestyle. Think geisha, and clowns. Asian clowns are basically gods, yeah? My personal makeup resumée screams fairer: better ever since my first foundation purchase, and absolutely did not include bronzers until only recently. But as I get older I’m coming to understand, that while the whole theory is not all a load of bullpoop, it should be taught to people that it’s the complexion/glow of the skin that puts you on any sort of caste system. And if it doesn’t come out naturally (if you are what you eat), a good bronzer is the best tool to achieve this look. I tend to go with a palette that doesn’t look like it’s been in the oven for too long, always one with a slice of pink in the mix like the Guerlain Terracotta 4-seasons bronzer, which come in a six different intensities (I’m wearing Nude 00). For this little collaboration with Guerlain, we shot these photos with a general gold/brown/bronzy feel, to give the old Asian belief the finger, I suppose.


The 2013 London Tweed Run, with Tokyobike



Yu Fujiwara, manager at Tokyobike UK and photographer at 8 and 2 blog


My ride for the day!


…then to UCL to meet the rest of the gang and fuel up


feasting on Vintage Rascal models













Our good marshalls








One can not decline a last minute invitation to join a biker gang, now can one.

The Tweed Run is one of those few elusive, fantastic events in London that you only hear about after its all happened, or worse, one you see happening one random Saturday when, just the other day you’d reminded yourself to find out when it’s taking place. So yes, being in a (flash mob) biker gang is pure awesome, but to be in time for it is a small miracle. The bigger miracle of course, is actually having tickets for it as they’re allocated through an auction (ours of which were provided by Yu Fujiwara [Tokyobike UK manager]). At 8am we convened at the Tokyobike shop in Shoreditch, where we were presented our rides for the day – mine, a mushroom-coloured beauty – and had our numbers pinned onto our sleeves. Then we joined the rest of the gang at the UCL courtyard, where the 500-strong mob filed in, dressed in some form of tweed, bumping fists and fueling for the six-hour tour through Central London. Promptly at 11am we were shepherded out by the marshalls and a day of grins-on-wheels (and bum-bruising) would begin.

Stay tuned for part two, the fellowship of the Tweeds, and a journey across middle-London.







Coat – Zara (similar here). Bag – 3.1 Phillip Lim Pashli. Skirt – ASOS. Shoes – Vintage Salvatore Ferragamo. Glasses – YesStyle. Sweater – YesStyle. Shirt – Zara.

Apart from falling asleep everywhere and routinely waking up in zone 5 thanks to some heavy-duty anti-histamines I’ve been taking lately, not much else is up. I tell ya, those hotdang things apparently knock out a grown man within 15 minutes and yet I find myself fondling my phone at 4am with crusty eyes, scrolling the Instagram feed like all life mattered and eventually falling back asleep after the fiftieth cherry blossom pic. But during the day it’d kick in when I’m a least bit idle and then my eyelids get as heavy than the damn Pashli bag and I’m desperately asking twitter whether there’s anywhere to nap in the West end. (Quo Vadis on Dean Street, thank you Sophie.) I know I eat a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey every other day and I guess in essence that makes me chunkier than a ‘grown man’ but COME ON I CAN’T BE FALLING ASLEEP WHILE QUEUING FOR THE ATM.


Dishoom London: an homage to the now-fading Irani cafés in Bombay

Lamb Samosas



Dishoom Chicken Tikka and Garlic Naans



Vada Pau


Mango Kulfi on a stick and Pineapple and black pepper crumble










ParknCube_DishoomLondon_23 (1)



Trenchcoat – H&M Trend. Bag – Kurt Geiger ‘Deuce’. Grey jeans – Urban Outfitters. Shoes – Topshop. Plaid Shirt – Uniqlo Mens. Grey cardigan – Barbour. Watch – Sekonda.

We fit right in, Joanna and I, at Dishoom, inspired by Irani cafes that existed in abundance in Bombay at the turn of the 20th Century, those which welcomed practically everyone regardless of social class or occupation. So we fit right in, because alongside memories of wealthy Bombay businessmen dining next to the struggling rickshaw-puller and the whore, there was us, two girls that knew no more than the ABC’s of Indian cuisine, asking the waiter what samosas look like. To those seasoned Londoners who add to the national statistic of curry being one of Britain’s most popular foods, our choices may seem unusual, but apparently Dishoom prides in being, not an Indian restaurant but, a Bombay Cafe. Everything is designed to share and each person is recommended to order 2 – 3 dishes. The food come in concise portions, each rich in flavour and character, or in other words, DI-SHOOM.* Interiors designed by Russel Sage (who’s also done Zetter Townhouse, The Hospital club…), I’m transported straight into an exotic world that is also oddly nostalgic despite the fact that I’m the dunce that doesn’t know what samosas look like. Don’t let the hype/commercial reputation (their other branch is in Covent Garden theatre district) deter you, especially the Shoreditch branch with the beautiful courtyard already littered with sofas and benches, I’ll be out there with a Bollybellini come July. For now, try the bottomless spiced chai, Behl and the Pineapple and black pepper crumble as dessert.

*Bollywood version of Ka-Pow!