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.


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!









My favourite froyo in London, Tutti Frutti in Covent Garden


Military Navy Coat – Zara. Grey JeansUrban 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.

Denim Shirt – Courtesy of Urban Outfitters, Leather Skirt – Vintage, Shoes & Bag – Zara, Tab – ASUS Transformer

Rumour has it that in my absence I’ve acquired a job as a professional bricklayer in a dusty little corner in Brazil; married my highschool sweetheart and spread honey on the moon in a windy island in Greece; had a few kids – mostly twins and triplets; shaved my head and attacked the tripod with an umbrella. Partially true, especially the twins and triplets bit – took two visits to IKEA to get shelves for them to sleep on. Again, I won’t apologize for ‘not blogging’, it’s pretty clear you didn’t continuously peck on the F5 (refresh) key every day of the past 2 weeks… although this has been the longest I’ve gone without putting anything up. Who knew the momentum of not-blogging is as powerful as blogging non-stop? The ball started rolling and I just couldn’t stop – not this ‘blog’ ball, the ‘life’ ball. I have many balls, apparently. Admittedly there have been big changes to my life as of late, but congratulate me? I’ve finally got something that somewhat resembles a life! Hope you don’t mind if I share a few in the next few posts, but one thing at a time – starting with how I lost 10kg…

Shot in the beginning of September with Kit, (thank you!)

Purple shirt & shirt as skirt, black sheer dress – Warsaw secondhand shop (all for £5, love it), Brogues – Office, Coat – Anywho x Kobra, Warrior Bag – WWA courtesy of The Olive Shoppe; Thank you Oliwia for helping with shots!

I’ve officially hit the back wall of my mother’s wardrobe – managed to find a nest of badgers back there but now this means I have nothing else to steal, and it’s been long since the original contents of my suitcase have been used and abused. Oliwia and I dropped by one of those second-hand stores where they sell clothes by the weight, after basically sifting through ‘history of trash and trend’, managed to score these shirts and two other items for a grand total of £6. Dig at polyester dump by day, live vicariously window surfing dresses and jackets by night, why naturally. Funny, I arrived in Warsaw late February with half a suitcase thinking I’d be here a week, two weeks tops. Then things deteriorated at the visa end and now I’m entering my 7th week… had someone told me beforehand I’d have brought a colouring book or something. The visa is out now (hot line thank you’s to the Big Man), so I’ll be returning to London in May.

Still some time to vote for mama here! (London region kiss) (Thank you so much x)

Outfit 1: Sweater – mum’s Molton, Polo – Courtesy of Uniqlo, Pants – Gmarket, Shoes – New Look, Sunglasses – Urban Outfitters, Bag – Lithuania market; Outfit 2: Polo – Courtesy of Uniqlo, Pants – Zara, Gold T-bars – Topshop, Clutch – mum’s vintage

The fact that this polo shirt is the brightest of blue (and the fact that my forehead is basically a lightbulb) does not help the fact that this balcony faces a wall of cars waiting at the lights on the main road outside my house. For innate self-defence’s sake I guess the body pulled the I need to pee pose in order to make the outdoor cinema crowd to assume that I’m just standing on my balcony in front of a tripod because I truly do have to pee. In two different outfits.

This second polo of Uniqlooks was quite the challenge, which is worrying in itself because a few years ago I remember insisting on only wearing polo shirts. What does that say about my highschool fashion sense? I guess it doesn’t say much, other than douchebag.