So in lifestyle-marking, we tend to be more Marxist with ourselves.

We devise tools that whether we meant to be as organised, are meant to collaborate with people more smoothly in what we intend as more than a life-skimming, activity-excluding, meaningless-observer passive version of ourselves.

We would (or at least, in my case), vie for the highest order on a peak perfection estates - where we can be the best version of ourselves. And whether that be the sad calorie-expending research exercise buffs that other people propose to themselves as being their best, or the back-bending rail-skinny yogi that goes beach-hopping every summer is best, or the outcome of what is a 4-year trek to mount university could turn out the best version without needing reading glasses at the end of 30, the reason why these are best, is because they are Yours.

The standard in which we are able to own...

Let me make it clear that i am normally not a real shopperista. Well, i am. But that’s not the point. We are making a compendium for how to live without needing to buy everything in sight - a tendency of even the best

It is the X-gene. We are women unhinged. When it comes to pavilions of footwear, accessories, & essential arm-candy: we are seriously defenceless, obsessively design-directed, and eternally vulnerable.

So may i suggest this compile for this Summer for the essential wait-for-it, arm-hang- to just keep to, and love forever? (That’s the real secret by the way). (You get a classic piece, and live with it forever.)

1/ Demetria - Featuring Demetria x Idee

Because, If you have to buy just the one bag, make it something superlocally original. The designer is a friend, and she makes this especially as a work of heart - and has an atelier in Italy especially. So, obviously,...

LinkedIn had sourced its network members a write-up to feature for their Fifteenth Year Anniversary, and made a WhenIWasFifteen call at arms, and i obliged.

(What else would writers do? But make a fool of herself in front of ex-bosses? Precious.)

I just hope there would be commentary in sight to illustrate the kind of reach this post had - or wait for it, analytics-side backend full reportage.

Why are people no longer versed with the old face-to-face and would rather do the undercover thing of checking you out, snooping, and tracking via ogling / stalking? Are we all NSA-wannabes? :)

Sshhhh. (They might ban this post.)

Laters.

Some girls just can’t say No.

To Fashion, Clothes, The Outdoors (No. hmmm that was easy), Gold barrettes, Chocolates (NO! Hmm that is not registering), Books in a corner cosy fireplace oversized wing-backed chair, The Great Gatsby themed parties, Afternoon Tea with the Girlfriends, Amuse Bouche plus the 6pm-(sharp) no-jackets required Apéro at the corner 6pm Pub, and the Usual Smoke-Inflected Large Room Loud Launch Parties.

Is this the meta-fantasy of someone locked in her own world for years onwards after moving place after place? Doubt it.

It is a careful mastery of self, intersected with extreme heat and frustrating lack of high-bandwidth device encryption, also being the centre of the nerdiest content streams on air (or earth), and being quite temperature controlled, pressure-aggrandised, and subtle-savoury can be the formula for you guessed it: unusual penchance for sub-versive...

WorldIPDay

Happy World Intellectual Property Day! Women ♀️are powering change everywhere, every day. What can we do to make sure more women become innovators and creators tomorrow? WorldIPDay
⏩ Find out more: https://t.co/hGKIpIKVOw pic.twitter.com/fsZIqlssSi

— WIPO (@WIPO) April 25, 2018

(And Other Monday Horror Stories We Keep To Ourselves When There Is No More Rhyme or Rhythm to Our Days.)

THE MONDAYS.

This is why i diary (verb). Or keep one (noun). And just keep a pen on the side, in case the train ride to the café i need to be at five minutes ago to meet a friend, who didn’t have wifi, and i need to scribble or work out a problem on some form of paper. (Yes paper.)

I would like to clarify why anxiety is riddled into our psyche, even post-education - from Kindergarten onwards. Think this occurs more into the North American persuasions, rather than the very sensible British women. They are not insane, because we worry too much about everything.

I am glad to report my two sensible girls are british-educated, and american-born son will now need to deal with their stable manners - and hopefully fall in love with someone who is not me - worried about every single...

And with the Firebolt Express, we sweep up the awards of time in cycles. A cycle is something that goes from one point to another, in the same path, and in the same occurring roundabout - from point A (up) to point B (down), and it seems that if we map this out to horizontal, these points map to a different vertical but spread along a wave pattern of a peak (A), to a trough or a dip (B), and these define our sine wave cycles along the x-axis. That horizontal depiction of what points in a circle encounter. Bit of a monster rollercoaster that.

But digresses aside, it feels like we attribute circulars to things that we find commonly in conversation, or daily life, but in a metric idyllic that is sacrosanct or synced to beats at length or time signatures, or the context of what affixes your life/ motion/ movement from fixed-point to fixed-point. In this case, we are measuring a...

(And the boozy weekends that follow).

When you compensate for time that’s un-pronounced or un-productive, it may sound like it was to your un-doing. But cultures are actualised within the natural image that collate the elbow-grease sequence of childhood-teenage-adult-marriage-etc. When these growth sequences are mitigated under the most horrifying underlying (albeit surrealist) circumstances, we take it upon ourselves to impede on socials. Or as we now see that happen, a shaming via the internet - and possibly, a scarring that can be punctuated with a lifetime of culture clashes. The only place to make a graceful exit would be to help ourselves to the host of tools that we can account for time, and space, that had happened under our nosey noses.

BORED: Sometimes, it might seem that being in social is a downside.

We collect network-value, or more importantly, a parallel of network...

Warning: Seriously, being into other people, is simply not worth it.

(And other tales of What Might Be Third-World Philanthropy, we don’t know.)

Ships come and go, and however noisily we navigate the corresponding coordinates that we need to traverse to get to where we intended to go, we can only be the keeper of ourselves, not of the environment we need to get around to understanding - sometime, this year, or this lifetime - or never.

So that word, Philanthropy - is eerily believed to be such a forecaster of serious clear & present everything - we have the detailed 411’s or the whitest of all papers written in agenda-filled blasphemy in Cold War history. And it will not encompass the justice of having now been able to actually contribute more directly (seventeen year old’s capacity of stapling flyers to posts), and more direction setting advantaged days of block-chained...

The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts, all on a summer’s day.
The Knave of Hearts, he stole the tarts, and took them clean away.

So on this very auspicious Valentine’s day - lucky, because it falls both on the Chinese calendar’s Lunar New Year celebrations for the Year of the Dog, as well as on the Catholic Lenten calendar that leads up to Christmas. Today is Ash Wednesday.

And as such, we celebrate and pivot all festivities on marking all three. In one day, the concept of being able to traditionally not eat, or drink, or take in anything excessive, to mark the beginning of the Lenten sacrifice. This is reserved for the Fridays of Lent, as well as the Good Friday on the Holy Week running up to Easter Sunday, but as it is, the sacrifices now run the gamut of giving up your most favourite activity - put down all social media gadgets, or do not eat your favourite meal, or possibly as...