How anyone in this expedited-delivery-obsessed century opts to wait 6-8 weeks for anything is a baffling yet fascinating notion. Patience is a ‘retro’ concept and kids scoff at the very thought. Heck, don’t we know our way around the IKEA warehouse like the back of our hands and are on first-name basis with the next-day couriers? How many times has the UPS delivery man made our blood boil by playing ding-dong-ditch with a yellow ‘We Missed You’ slip? Ergo, anything that takes 6-8 weeks to produce and deliver is 1) a long-term commitment involving a completely different mindset 2) a bloody tease, 3) from a dragon egg.

Perhaps it’s prescribing to the same ideas as stumbling upon a £10 note in the back-pocked of a pair of long-neglected jeans and feeling like you’ve earned some new cash, fair-and-square. Or signing for a parcel from US/Australasia, the one you ordered half-drunk a week back, and feeling rather as you’ve received a surprise gift. The one you bought with your own money.

Customized Trainers – MySwear via Farfetch

Six weeks is how long it took for this MySwear beauty to be produced, and it did not disappoint. I’d spent just about the same amount of time swirling the virtual shoe around and around (and around), deciding on colour and texture like my life depended on it (of course, then ending up choosing the most basic colours, because sense). And all I can think is that for six weeks they planted the little MySwear seed, watered it, and fed it some corn until ripe. Week of Christmas, it arrived in its wooden-boxed, woollen-dustbagged, customized glory – and of course it felt like a gift by then.

Now I just wish they have a dissertation option so that when I time-travel back to 2010 I can just feed it ‘Cream suede, white sole, ivory laces’ and wait 6-8 weeks for good results.

Long time readers will understand if I said I had to skim ‘Dummy’s Guide to: Partying and Generally Having a Jolly Good Time with Friends Without Involving a LAN Cable or Pizza Pockets’ before shooting this feature. This is all foreign territory, this 1) having this many friends at one go and 2) being out after 8PM – latter not because of stellar home education (‘a lady should not be seen mingling in the darkness’ – said mum) but because I believe I’m just not programmed to function in such interactive settings, someone somewhere just forgot to install that patch for me.

Dress – Tata Naka.

Man, was I wrong. Regardless of inherent awkwardness, what matters are the people you are with, and how many somersaults you can do in your full gown before gold glitter gets into every crevice of your body. GLITTER DOES NOT COME OFF, PEOPLE. Not sure how I learn this at age 28. With the help of Sarah, the prettiest girl in the world I’m sure you’ll agree, and my trusty editorial partner Brian, the forever adventurist & babe-magnet, we celebrated the NOW, with Moët et Chandon.

It’s soon time for the New Year, New Me bullshit, but before that, remember to Open the Now with the people you love most, and don’t forget to let live a little, engage in some good-hearted tomfoolery!

And of course, drink responsibly.

Sarah wears: dress – Self Portrait

Bustier – ASOS. Skirt – Razan Alazzouni. Shoes – HOGAN

Sarah wears: Dress by Todd Lynn

Gone are those days when my hooves – tad tall for the day’s purposes – made odd Christmas-tree shaped marks in the pavement on a hot summer day. Banished, are the thoughts that fleeted into my post-adolescent, under-cooked brain, teasing with a very useless idea of purchasing stripper heels with a 3-inch perspex platform and a goldfish residing under each foot (or dollar-note tips, whichever). You know, kids and their insecurities, one of mine were: short, Asian legs. My early twenties was in fact, punctuated with poor choice in footwear: cheap ‘leather’ glued with ‘wood’, and heels generally too high for my/my immediate surroundings’ own good. And to think of all the things I could’ve done had I been a little closer to earth – all the buses I could’ve caught, the nights I could’ve slept indoors had I not given up on walking home on the bloody stumps I called feet…

Perhaps it’s life’s Yin & Yang, but now I own a UberXL-load of sneakers in varying shapes and sizes, a hefty bunch Nike’s – naturally. All made for a ‘track’ or another (the Cortez originally a running shoe), but worn beating down London pavements and chasing buses (and catching them for once). Insecurities are re-allocated (cellulite, taxes), but I’m glad to say that for the past few years I’ve been sleeping indoors every night, thanks to this obsession for trainers. The Nike ‘Cortez‘, returning since its original debut in 1972 and then 1994 in Forrest Gump, is new to the family. No plans yet to run cross-country in them but here’s three ways you can at least get to the next meeting without hailing down a black cab.

Three jobs I’d kill a million girls for: 1) Chipotle menu taster, 2) GARLIC/PASTA (yes, just being one. Because hellooOoo SEXY) and 3) ambassador for Muji. I am naturally, none of those – although sometimes I do come close to 2) given how much both get shovelled into my system around deadlines. (I may also be a can of Red Bull, come to think of it) Muji – you’ll agree that walking into one of the stores is walking into a version of your life where the grip is definitely gotten, organised expertly into no-brand, tranquil textures and colours. And you decide you need a solar cooking scale, because Muji. It’s one of the few places I frequented as a student (with a bank balance of -£45.02), and still visit to this day and let out the same Urgghhehrh want EVERYTHING* ** noise.

I’ve saved this guide for my fellow last-minute gifters, as a consolation that there is still amazing, thoughtful gifts to be found out there, and also to slap you away from buying your sister a pack of jumbo tampons because her preferred gift sold out a week ago at Net-a-Porter (and let’s be honest, you’re broke). See, if someone got me a box full of Muji stationery for Christmas I’d be Dobby with a sock, and I’m pretty sure it works with others too, so roll with that. They’ve also just launched their minimal (no artificial colours, mineral oils and weakly acidic) skincare line based on fine natural water extracted from a cave, and after testing it for two weeks I can testify that it is what it says it is on the box.

* synchronised noises with my assistant that had at least one staff member permanently linger around the corner.
** with accompanying body movement when in Muji HK/Tokyo. Get ready to moan: they have food and bigger appliances (microwave, rice cooker…etc)

Muji Skincare

Tray, jars, whisk – all Muji Kitchen & Dining

Muji Kitchen & Dining. Book – Nanban: Japanese Soul Food

This is me, and I love the juxtaposition of East (by East we mean ‘Japanese minimal design aesthetics’ and not novelty soy sauce containers or a fist-shaking golden cat) and West of my Georgian-era flat. I picked up that aroma diffuser a while back and it’s been greatly popular with my team – it’s a perfect gift for a client or the office.

Fragrance oil

Shoes – Bally.

To don a watch is to wear a miniature black-hole at your left, or right, sleeve – a cleverly disguised little weapon that brings a micro-second of chaos as the wearer, after having so deliberately employed her wrist and peeled back the sleeve of her Equipment blouse, DOES NOT REALLY REMEMBER THE TIME, and checks it again. My relationship with my watch is as such – made up of singular moments amidst a flurry of activity, as our faces mirror eachother’s, and our eyes meet, just as you would with your best friend in a house party of sorts, that micro-second that says nothing but tells everything. And perhaps the real purpose of consulting your watch for the time is not for the very data itself, but a nod to the smaller moments that go undetected.

The second hand glides around the jet-black lake of the Larsson & Jennings The Automatic, newest series to the family and an upgrade to the cult models that has been dominating the instaworlds on wrists of taste-conscious millennials. The watch is silent but packs a punch – even its refined, golden arms dance with intent, even in the smaller moments I’ve decided to photograph for this story.

Top & Skirt – Rejina Pyo

Blazer – 2ND DAY. Watch – Larsson & Jennings ‘The Automatic’

Top & Skirt – Rejina Pyo

The Automatic is the older sister I never had. The one that has a degree in political science, looks flawless at all times (#Iwokeuplikethis), and yet knows how to rock a tune at the family Christmas gathering. We found this amazing flat on Airbnb, and spent one day idling in corners where the soft winter light trickled through the blinds; occasionally looking at the Automatic, but never registering the time.

Exclusive to the series is also the deployment clasp, Swiss AR-coated crystal sapphire glass and the date calendar functionality of a 21 jewel ETA 2892.A2 mechanical movement. Available directly from Larsson & Jennings stores and a small number of selected partners.

Coat – 2ND DAY

Top – Paule Ka. Skirt – Filippa K. Watch – Larsson & Jennings ‘The Automatic’

Top – Paule Ka. Skirt – Filippa K. Shoes – Siegerson Morrison. Watch – Larsson & Jennings ‘The Automatic’

Watch – Larsson & Jennings ‘The Automatic’