I love me. I really do, apparently – I listed all the symptoms into a search bar (Did you mean “Kanye West”?) and took a Buzzfeed test and everything. It’s legit. Dr Google says so. I, Shini Park, love spending time absolutely, completely alone.

With champagne, preferably.

I’ve written, time and time again, that my husband and I are keen observers of the Because-Why-the-Frick-Not day. We’ve done the ‘perfect date’ out, more times accidental than not, for reasons including but not limited to: the fact that there is sink full of dirty dishes at home and none of us remembers whose turn it is to clean, when the #Brexit landlady announces she would visit sometime during the day, or that time when I found a £5 note in an old coat and thought I’d treat us to a three-course dinner, a movie and some very expensive lingerie. Point is, we don’t need a reason to dig out champagnes flutes – every time I wear socks that match is a happy un-birthday, every time his spreadsheet runs without errors that’s a #MoetMoment. We are very happy. And highly cynical.

#MoetChandon

Bustier – ASOS. Skirt – Baum & Pferdgaten. Heels – Prada. Sofa – Sofa & Chair Company.

Moët Rosé Impérial ‘Emoëticons’

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What we also are, are a pair of hardcore introverts. Ones that can only charge batteries by being completely alone in a quiet room, surrounded ideally by inanimate objects, preferably also occasionally hugged by a machine with arms made of wood. Do you have anything fun planned for Valentine’s Day? Someone asked me in an email a few weeks ago. Why yes, I do. I took a bottle of Limited edition Moët Rosé Impérial ‘Emoëticons’ to the other room, painted on every surface but my sketchbook, and stuck Moet Stickers (Also available as app in iOS and Android) on my body while screeching to Ciara’s My Body (to the dude’s despair). My best use of a Tuesday in February, maybe EVER.

There is a special place in my mind, a cove, a nook, what have you – located in the general thereabouts of naughty-thoughtsburg and childish-schemesville. A little room that’s lined with premium faux-fur (‘stroke the furry wall, Albus’), and a make-it-yourself-burrito/burger/sundae/pho buffet in each of the four corners. And Henry Cavil as butler, in Olympic swimtrunks with ‘FAB’ written across the buttocks. We are not talking about the Maldives just yet, this space that I describe, is my ‘Happy Place’.

Swimsuit – ASOS.

Shirt & Bandeau – ASOS. Beach Pareo – Tallulah & Hope.

Ever since November 2015 however, my Happy Place has had a refurbishment. Now it is the exact replica of Conrad Maldives: white beaches with glassy water frothing at the hem, azure horizon that meets a cotton candy sky canvas, and all the amenities in a water villa. This is where I go in my mind, when my dude is particularly bewitched at the notion of explaining the supply and demand chain in the heaviest economist-lingo he can muster. I mentally snorkel out to the reefs and lather a wave underwater to a family of clown-fish while grunting the occasional Mmn, and ooh really‘s as he proceeds to pull out a complex-looking spreadsheet. Happy Place, Happy Place…

Park & Cube was a guest of Conrad Maldives, all views and opinion my own, as per usual.

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

Pullover & trackpant – Charlie May. Watch – Shinola ‘Runwell’.

art direction SHINI PARK photography & styling TEAM PARK & CUBE in collaboration with Shinola

I feel like this is one topic that has been discussed numerous times before in passing, but I still wonder whether I am perhaps… a dude? Evidence suggests that I, in fact, may be a 13-year old boy, what with the lack of chesticulars and fondness to playing with matches. But on some days I find myself slouched in the pink couch guzzling down some beer or strawberry cider or another, plotting the car I should decorate my mid-life crisis with and ask myself what AM I? A pastel-purple Jaguar (they’re going to have to mix a heck load of white, red and blue at the garage) is the answer so far, although the thought of a velvet-wrapped Porsche is also pretty enticing – solely for the reason of baffling/pissing off society. Sure, this probably is an age-old depiction of ‘man’, and my feminist assistant Simon, will weep silently in a corner in the office once he reads this (#genderequality, you guys) but hey – you tell me if these evidences say ‘lady’ anywhere.

I’m getting to a point, I promise.

Now, I had not known of Shinola (pronounced ‘shy-no-la’, originating from ‘shoe-shine’) until a few months back, during a routine stalking of fine gentlemen on the intranets (you know, Monday morning thing) I came across the brand’s website. A cursory session of digging of the wonder-emporium of leather goods later, decided it was ALL made for me: The leather footballs, stationery, watches with graphically sound (and when I say sound I mean HANDSOME) faces, and MY GOODNESS the bicycles, expertly assembled and shipped from Detroit, which is where the brand originates from. They boast a strong American heritage, in value and history, and all designs are inspired by the city’s industrial past.

iPad cover, notebook, watch – Shinola.

Bicycle – Shinola ‘Bixby’

LEFT: Top – Muji. Trousers – ASOS. RIGHT: Turtleneck – Lands’End. Trousers – ASOS. Watch – Shinola ‘Runwell’.

I wanted to be that silently brilliant man that took pride in his profession, who treated his possessions with firm-yet-unobsessive care, and owned a fine watch because his time was currency itself. I wanted to set the boob jokes/box of matches aside, change out of that beer-stained shirt and write stories in beautifully bound stationery; roll my sleeves up and take the bicycle to a neighbourhood uncharted before – Detroit, perhaps.

So, this is what a brand with solid value system does to a consumer: it makes a man out of a boy. Add a dose of expert craftsmanship and healthy influence to a socio-economically struggling city… how many times do I have to say, great stories are infectious?

Here is a digitorial, in efforts to emulate the Shinola ‘man’, a rite of sorts, I suppose.

Bomber – Coach. Top – Dagmar. Backpack – Shinola. Skirt – Charlie May.

Watches – Shinola ‘Runwell’

Jacket – Filippa K. Utility trousers – ASOS. Shoes – Acne ‘Jensen’. Bicycle – Shinola ‘Bixby’

Sweater, trousers – Charlie May. Shirt – Junya Watanabe. Sneakers – Coach.

Shirt – Junya Watanabe. Skirt – ASOS.

Coat – Rochas. Shirt – Junya Watanabe. Choker – By Boe. Bustier – ASOS. Trousers – Y’s.