Was talking to Racine during lectures the other day. haha.. it's no surprise that i AM indeed talking in lectures.. albeit, less than half the ppl in the lecture hall actually gives UNDIVIDED attention to the lecturer anyway... :)
So moving on, we were chatting about other weird things girls normally talk about when somehow, someway, we came upon talking about Cute Boys vs. Guys with Style..
As it turns out, we both picked the latter.
I know, i know, most people, (my brother included) are on the impression that people who are good looking would definitely be able to pull off anything whether it's just the typical t shirt and jeans ensemble or the trendy 'pasar malam' looking t-shirt-short pants-slippers combination.
I say, NO NO NO!!
Can you imagine this potential hottie appearing in front of you in what looks like pajamas, or maybe, some futuristic metal looking kick ass gear or just the plain rag-tagged clothes, hopelessly beyond help, genuine or not? Any girl (or guy) would undoubtfully be so turned off, they might have to look the other way to prevent consumed food from reverse peristalsis-ing it's way up the wrong end. then again, she could just be looking away because she just feels too damn embarrased for him or she might have just wanted to hold back uncontrollable laughter.
See, guys who have their own sense of style know when to dress up and when to appear unsightly.. (i.e. when entering a gay bar or places you just don't want to be recognizable)
I on the other hand am weird in a way where i'm attracted to the weirdest things.
First, there's the thick black plastic-ky looking spectacles. Yes, i don't know why, but i, strangely enough am quite attracted to GUYs who can pull off that look. Even I, don't know why i fall into such an incredulous category.
Next, there's the combination of cigarettes (is that how you spell it?) and perfume.. I'm drawn to it, like a sweet-toothed, pink-faced chubby little kids to a candy shop. And no, it's not just any cigarette yet is it just any perfume.. it has to be of a particular brand and type. And yes, i AM that weird. I guess no matter where you go and what you do, there will always be unexplainable confines in your head you just cannot make sense off.
Then there also, the button down shirt and jeans look. I am on the impression that a button down shirts makes a guy look at least 3 times better than usual. And yes, i go to IMU. The place where every Tom, Dick, and Harry dresses in formal clothes to get their butt to IMU daily. So yeah, i guess, well, to me at least.. every guy looks better when in the torture zone.. IMU.
It's kinda silly, though this IMU place. 1st, it tortures potential doctors, then it provides you with extreme smelling toilets (believe me it can go from one extreme to another).. now, it numbs my attraction towards button down shirted guys. They should throw that rule away. If men can rule and run the world, why can't they stop wearing ties? If professionalism is depicted by it, strange as it may sound, is intelligence waking up every morning to tie a piece of cloth around your neck?
You tell me..
Monday, May 29, 2006
Saturday, May 06, 2006
6th May 2006
8 a.m. - Woke up, dragged my sorry ass out of bed and headed for the shower. Got dressed, had breakfast, read the newspaper and headed for the one the hotels in PJ for a runway show.
920am - Wanted to do the typical malaysian thing and arrive 1 hour after i was supposed to but i decided to play safe and be just 20 mins late. :) The minute i got there they got me to change into the first attire. It's a very strange looking blue top with a white knee length pants and a coat. I think the designer actually wanted to mimic the typical 18th century english men get up.
Imagine me in that.
That was how silly i looked.
Felt as if i just fell out of the french colonial revolution.
So anyway, we, the whole team of designers and models, had a practise run. Took us 2 hours for everything to be done. There were 15 models and about 45 designers. Each designer were asked to design 3 sets of clothing. So yes, there were a whole shit load of clothings.
Racks and racks... and racks ....and racks..
Basically all i was required to do is
1) walk the runway
2) pose
3) clap hands when designer shows after us
4) go backstage and undress FAST inthe middle of nowhere.... literally.
5) all that's happening backstage is utter chaos, 5 ppl will be working on you and all you can do is just try your best to maintain balance as you wear everything simultaneously..
one person will be helping you with the stocking and the shoes
one person will help you with your top
one person will help you with the bottom
one person's helping you with the hair and whatever that's supposed to go on your head
another person's helping you with the accessories. (my right ear still feels a little sore with all the changing of the heavy heavy earrings)
6) as soon as everything's on you, or most of it at least... you run out to do the catwalk..
it's crazy.
IT'S CRAZY!
1pm - we head off to a room across the hall to sit around, eat and allow make up artists to paint our faces. YES, paint. Reason why is that with the amount of make up they put on your face you could press your face on a piece of paper, peel it off and keep it as a picture portrait or yourself.. and even if you show it to your friends, they would be dazzled at how real the picture looks. they'll be begging you to let them know how you made it look so realistic.
Anyway, the make up artist who worked on me did a really CRAPPY job. I got up looked in the mirror and almost collapsed at how ugly she made look. I'm not the prettiest girl on earth but i always had the impression that make up is supposed to minimise the flaws and make you look better. After getting off the chair, i had to really force a smile onto her and walk away. Didn;t want to be the difficult model.
Ugh.
This was how bad it was. I had to fake being engrossed in some stupid magazine just so that i could bury my face into something so deep, no one would recognize me. The eye shadow she put just under eyes made me look like a had eye bags the size of mount kinabalu. The lipstick she put on me was so red all you could see on me were my lips. Maybe that was what she was intending to do, it's to draw as much attention away from the mountain looking eyes. Even the different coloured foundation she put on me was obviously not blended in together AT ALL. the list just goes on and on... aaaarrrggghhhhhhhh
JUst thinking of it makes me want to scream at her to quit her job. Should have done it, so as to not torment future models under her care..
Ugh...
aaarrrrgggghhh!!!
NO one did anything to my hair.
There was nothing anyone could do.
Thank bloody goodness.
2pm - Headed to the room at the backstage area to get changed.
Stupid zip from my pants decide it break.
More things to stress over. HAd to hope for pants to NOT fall off and could not sit down cause doing so would move the temporarily 'zipped' area out of place.
With the typical malaysian timing, nothing started on time. So there i was, standing around because i couldn't sit, starting to feels the aches because i had heels on, getting very irritated because i had to wait and almost suffocating cause there were just too damn many ppl in the very small room.
I tell you, modelling IS NOT fun.
Some of the outfits required very heavy objects hanging from my hair.
MOdelling makes you bald.
Some of the outfits squeezed the bejesus out of you.
MOdelling makes you suffocate.
Some of the outfits are so loose you begin to wonder if the designers were designing it for pregnant women.
Modelling makes you confused.
In anyways, admidst all the flaws and crazy looking clothes the whole thing had to offer, it was quite an experience for me.
Some of the clothes designed were really one of a kind and ingeniously crafted to look stunning.
After running in and out, slipping crazy looking clothes in and out, 9 sets i think.
Oh yeah, and each designer wanted a different mood to go with the clothes. I jsut discovered that my face HAS a mind of its own cause after 5 chnges, my face got so confused that after a while half of my face was trying to look arrogant while the other half was trying to look happy.
REally.
I'm not kidding.. haha
Slightly after 2 hours, the show was finally over.
Really swt..
530pm - Got home and died. Blardee tired i tell you...
If and when i get the pictures, i'll post them up.
Till then, adious.
8 a.m. - Woke up, dragged my sorry ass out of bed and headed for the shower. Got dressed, had breakfast, read the newspaper and headed for the one the hotels in PJ for a runway show.
920am - Wanted to do the typical malaysian thing and arrive 1 hour after i was supposed to but i decided to play safe and be just 20 mins late. :) The minute i got there they got me to change into the first attire. It's a very strange looking blue top with a white knee length pants and a coat. I think the designer actually wanted to mimic the typical 18th century english men get up.
Imagine me in that.
That was how silly i looked.
Felt as if i just fell out of the french colonial revolution.
So anyway, we, the whole team of designers and models, had a practise run. Took us 2 hours for everything to be done. There were 15 models and about 45 designers. Each designer were asked to design 3 sets of clothing. So yes, there were a whole shit load of clothings.
Racks and racks... and racks ....and racks..
Basically all i was required to do is
1) walk the runway
2) pose
3) clap hands when designer shows after us
4) go backstage and undress FAST inthe middle of nowhere.... literally.
5) all that's happening backstage is utter chaos, 5 ppl will be working on you and all you can do is just try your best to maintain balance as you wear everything simultaneously..
one person will be helping you with the stocking and the shoes
one person will help you with your top
one person will help you with the bottom
one person's helping you with the hair and whatever that's supposed to go on your head
another person's helping you with the accessories. (my right ear still feels a little sore with all the changing of the heavy heavy earrings)
6) as soon as everything's on you, or most of it at least... you run out to do the catwalk..
it's crazy.
IT'S CRAZY!
1pm - we head off to a room across the hall to sit around, eat and allow make up artists to paint our faces. YES, paint. Reason why is that with the amount of make up they put on your face you could press your face on a piece of paper, peel it off and keep it as a picture portrait or yourself.. and even if you show it to your friends, they would be dazzled at how real the picture looks. they'll be begging you to let them know how you made it look so realistic.
Anyway, the make up artist who worked on me did a really CRAPPY job. I got up looked in the mirror and almost collapsed at how ugly she made look. I'm not the prettiest girl on earth but i always had the impression that make up is supposed to minimise the flaws and make you look better. After getting off the chair, i had to really force a smile onto her and walk away. Didn;t want to be the difficult model.
Ugh.
This was how bad it was. I had to fake being engrossed in some stupid magazine just so that i could bury my face into something so deep, no one would recognize me. The eye shadow she put just under eyes made me look like a had eye bags the size of mount kinabalu. The lipstick she put on me was so red all you could see on me were my lips. Maybe that was what she was intending to do, it's to draw as much attention away from the mountain looking eyes. Even the different coloured foundation she put on me was obviously not blended in together AT ALL. the list just goes on and on... aaaarrrggghhhhhhhh
JUst thinking of it makes me want to scream at her to quit her job. Should have done it, so as to not torment future models under her care..
Ugh...
aaarrrrgggghhh!!!
NO one did anything to my hair.
There was nothing anyone could do.
Thank bloody goodness.
2pm - Headed to the room at the backstage area to get changed.
Stupid zip from my pants decide it break.
More things to stress over. HAd to hope for pants to NOT fall off and could not sit down cause doing so would move the temporarily 'zipped' area out of place.
With the typical malaysian timing, nothing started on time. So there i was, standing around because i couldn't sit, starting to feels the aches because i had heels on, getting very irritated because i had to wait and almost suffocating cause there were just too damn many ppl in the very small room.
I tell you, modelling IS NOT fun.
Some of the outfits required very heavy objects hanging from my hair.
MOdelling makes you bald.
Some of the outfits squeezed the bejesus out of you.
MOdelling makes you suffocate.
Some of the outfits are so loose you begin to wonder if the designers were designing it for pregnant women.
Modelling makes you confused.
In anyways, admidst all the flaws and crazy looking clothes the whole thing had to offer, it was quite an experience for me.
Some of the clothes designed were really one of a kind and ingeniously crafted to look stunning.
After running in and out, slipping crazy looking clothes in and out, 9 sets i think.
Oh yeah, and each designer wanted a different mood to go with the clothes. I jsut discovered that my face HAS a mind of its own cause after 5 chnges, my face got so confused that after a while half of my face was trying to look arrogant while the other half was trying to look happy.
REally.
I'm not kidding.. haha
Slightly after 2 hours, the show was finally over.
Really swt..
530pm - Got home and died. Blardee tired i tell you...
If and when i get the pictures, i'll post them up.
Till then, adious.
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