Taisha Pullover by Miss Sixty

For the metrochick (female version of a metrosexual) in all of us. Feminine in front, masculine behind. I like.

Buy it at USD149.00 USD76.00 via DJPremium.com.

Ang-McGuire Name Card

While my aunt Judy, is a great chef who has cooked for an array of personalities, from The Killers, to The Singapore High Commission in London, I have always thought her logo falls short of showing the world what she and her wok’s made of. I appreciate the story behind it – it was crafted to look like a Chinese character, and it was designed by her Global Creative Director friend from a leading ad agency. Still, it appears a bit… je ne sais pas, dated.

Existing Logo

This logo design I’ve developed was influenced by a number of factors, including:

• Color: Her favourite color is Green and while I personally detest the color unless it’s money, I understand her reason for liking the color. It appears refreshing and almost exerts a sense of tranquility, which is why she likes it so much.
• Her Expertise, Italian cuisine: Contrary to belief that her best culinary skills herewith lies in the world of Asian food only, she was actually trained in Italian cuisine. I never fail to indulge in her pasta every single day when I’m in London. As such, you’d find that the letter ‘G’ in the logo, symbolizing a strand of spaghetti and a fork at the foot attempting to swirl it.
• Being Chinese: While my aunt’s Mandarin is no better than mine, it is safe to say that in spite of our incompetencies, we are proud of our origins. With bee kways for breakfast, and chicken rice for dinner, I sometimes forget I’m in London. Again, the letter ‘G’ in the logo, has been made to symbolize the number ‘8′, which is an auspicious number to the Chinese.

Front of name card with new logo

Back of name card with new logo

Proposed materials for the name card:
// 160gsm art card
// matt lami with spot varnish on whatever element that’s in green

I hope she likes it. What do you think?

All in one night.

First, my baby and I will indulge in Jean-Yves Thibaudet, at Esplanade Concert Hall, then ATB at Ministry of Sound. French first, German later. What a weird combination… in more ways than one. Can’t wait for tomorrow.

Venue: Esplanade Concert Hall
Time: 7.30pm
Date: 21 September, 2007

Venue: Ministry of Sound
Time: Depending on the DJ’s mood I guess
Date: 21 September, 2007

Tetsuya Ishida: 石田徹也

体液

自己決定

公共物

説教

堕胎

温室

物色

制圧


Tetsuya Ishida saw himself trapped in this urban utopia world we lived in, and allowed his paintings to describe how he felt. Born in June 1973 in Shizuoka Prefecture, Tetsuya Ishida stopped painting when he died in 2005 after being hit by a train.

Evian Palace Bottle

How to fight fine dining establishments from offering you cheaper alternatives: provide them with the Evian Palace Bottle that looks even more chic than their decorations. Marketeers, learn. It’s not always about price.

Via: NOTCOT

The Everyday Wallpaper: 2nd Series

The Everyday Wallpaper Series is back. Doesn’t it irk you when your pesky colleagues creep behind your shoulders to peep at your computer? Well, with these 5 wallpapers, I say, let them view on and smack them back without uttering a word (now now, one shan’t engage in office politics). Brushes from Jason Gaylor.

1. Your sister was so fucking good last night

// Download wallpaper

2. Isn’t yours a Fake?

// Download wallpaper

3. Oh, you mean you’re not pregnant?

// Download wallpaper

4. If only your capabilities were as big as your ass.

// Download wallpaper

5. Just because no one wants to talk to you on MSN Messanger doesn’t mean you can read mine.

// Download wallpaper

So how fat?

An odd text conversation I have had at 8 this morning. Thought I’d share it with you.

Friend: My dad said I got fat. So how fat? Can’t stand this I haven’t been able to gym for a week Good morning

Pat: Ur dad is ur dad. Dads either say u are fat or u are too skinny. They are not genetically capable of praising their daughters.

Friend: Ok I got fat. How to lose weight in 10min?

Pat: Break ur weighing machine.

Speaking of which, it’s high time I hit the gym myself. My friends have already acknowledged that I’ve gotten fat. Urgh. I want my 6-pecs back!

Please Read This.

I plead of you, to read this. No corny one-liners from me this time.

1. A confessional letter from Otto Fong
2. Why it was removed

Via Fridae.com .

Good Bitch. Bad Bitch.

The elevator doors were about to close when a K-Box-loving Chinese couple sneaked in. The youfellasareoverweight buzzer stung like tinnitus would, but the Chinese couple remained stationary in their spot as though it was elevator music.

Are you waiting to lose weight? A voice hissed from behind.

Quite promptly without uttering a word, the Chinese couple stepped out of the elevator. And yes, that voice was mine.

I am a bitch and I make no apologies for being one. My words have cut many, mostly intentional with definite satisfaction enjoyed, although sometimes… well let’s just say I will take the words back if I could. In any case, I praise myself to ALWAYS stabbing one in the front, and never in the back. In the first place, I’m quite certain hurt by intent is a sin classified in one of the many pages of the Bible anyway, so I may as well do it with style. Like being an assassin in Prada shoes. And on the account that I don’t bite unless provoked, I like to think myself as a Good Bitch.

Being a lesbian and working in the advertising industry is a double whammy.  On my non-sticky hand, the advertising industry is infested with ambitious, loud, opinionated and very scheming people ready to take you down if you’re not careful. On my other sticky hand, lesbians are basically women on 6th gear PMS with more insecurities in a day than a pregnant woman with hormonal imbalance in 9 months. No wonder my bitchiness is aggravated; I can take the amount of knives on my back to NTUC FairPrice supermarket and sell in the Kitchen Appliances section.

I’m known to be extremely confrontational if I hear of anyone bitching about me. If I had a full-page-full-color ad on The Straits Times, it would say:

NOTICE
The Advertiser, Pat Law, would like to express her condolences, to the parents of the pathetic fools who were quoted by various third parties on the following statements.

• Oh, I heard Pat intends to leave the company soon.
  No, you stupid young punk. I thought you were the one sick of not being promoted to an Account Manager and wanted to leave? Unlike you, I recognize the ramifications of spreading such rumour, and I choose not to divulge in the same source you decided to spread this rumour with. I know it is not within your capacity to see the bigger picture, but have you ever wondered what the implications are, if my boss is to hear of such fallacious rumour? He might have a contingency plan and it would be shitty to be replaced over a rumour that’s completely untrue. I love my company, my clients and my colleagues. Now, I can’t say the same for you.
• Oh, guess what? Pat has joined XXX!
  Firstly, I applaud you for having TWICE broadcasted the agencies of which I’ve joined. I tried to be understanding the first time you did so. Really, I tried. I mean, you’re severely obese and your make-up reminds me of Marilyn Manson (easy on the blue eyeshadow, sweetheart, it doesn’t make you look slimmer), so I figured you must be an extremely lonely person. It doesn’t help that your idea of a conversation was to bitch about your own friend to a table of 10.

  The second time you did so, rather speedily I must add (considering that it was barely 72 hours since I resigned), I decided that there wasn’t a point being gracious to an uncivilized pig anymore. The Christmas email was witty wasn’t it? I must say it was the best email I’ve crafted in the entire year! Just in case you’re wondering, yes I did BCC some rather important people from the ad industry. And no, I’ll like to keep you guessing who they are. You’re just plain lucky I didn’t BCC your own boss. I’m brutal, but not evil.

• Pat hit on me!
  I may say “Will you light up my life, please?” to the whatsherface waitress when I need a smoke, and ONLY because I’ve lost my lighter yet again, but erm, no, it is not in my nature to make the first move. Just because I’m able to hold a decent conversation beyond “hi, intro pls” does not mean I’m hitting on you. I am just having a conversation. The same kind I would have with the kopi boy who makes my kopi-o-zero each morning. And please, don’t make it sound as devastating as someone hitting you. Get a grip. Here’s my advice to you: Your ego should never be bigger than your success and credibility. For now, I think it should be non-existent.

Boy is this blog entry therapeutic. I’m sure you have been back stabbed one time or another before like I have, by a cowardice Bad Bitch. What was it and how did you deal with it? I’m interested to know how many stood up for themselves.

I should’ve learned tennis

For I will be able to compete while adorned in seven carats. of diamonds with three marquis cuts, by the friendly-if-you-can-afford-them people of Euphoria New York. I think I’ll appear a little (just a little) more feminine than Serena Williams. You think?

Baby, take note… its $15,000 per pair. US dollars.