Monday, March 24, 2008
There seems to have been a dramatic increase in the number of ethical fashion websites - perhaps they are still treading a queasy line between excess and abstinence, after all do you really need another t-shirt, even if it is fair trade and organic? And what are the implications of having a fair trade dress shipped across the Atlantic? But if you're going to buy something from here, then at least you are thinking about it.
Here are some of the best.
Friday, March 21, 2008
TOO ORANGEY FOR PORN
I AM FULL STOMACH
SUNNY DAY HE IS WAIT FOR BUS
I AM PERFECTLY FLOWER
all of which irony-free statements I have seen on the streets of Hong Kong. Far harder, though, to find people who look good in their clothes.
His photographs are wonderful; the choices are sometimes interesting, occasionally perplexing, but always thoughtful and often accompanied by succint observations. He's currently featuring amazing pictures from a recent trip to New Delhi. Definitely worth a look.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
I was walking innocently along to a lunch meeting when I bumped in to a client who was walking the same way. Just as I said hello we both clocked the advert and were struck dumb with astonishment. "That's a very big ... advertisement", I said, and we both laughed and averted our eyes.
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
The thing I don't like about travel is the fact of it. The weariness, waking at 4am with thoughts running round my head as insistent as a headache. Not knowing where I am, what time it is, and whether I should eat. When I've been in meetings I have had no trouble at all. Outside of that temporary adrenaline rush, though, it's been like walking around with several sheets of bubble wrap tightly wound around my head.
What I have positively disliked is the fact that the clothes in every shop I go into seem to be "Made In China". Having just moved house I have an unusually powerful distaste for buying anything, but I feel particularly averse to the idea of buying anything made in China; to China it shall not return, at least not in my luggage. Viewed in this perspective, even the most technically desirable dresses are nothing more than landfill futures.
Monday, March 03, 2008
Flying out of St Paul airport, you could see for miles and the whole country seemed perfectly flat and white with snow as far as the eye could see. I don't think I've ever seen so much snow covering such an expanse of land. Today in New York the sun was shining and the sky was a perfect blue, though it was bitterly cold (as I walked along Broadway I thought of "You promised me Broadway was waiting for me" and "The wind blows right through you, it's no place for the old" from Fairytale of New York). I met an old friend from Hong Kong in an Asian cafe called Rice, on the corner of Lexington and 28th Street. She's been in New York for two years and says it's a tough, and toughening, place to work, and people will step on each other to get ahead; but much better than Hong Kong for a single woman looking for a relationship (in Hong Kong, this attractive, intelligent woman had begun to wonder if there was something wrong with her).
In the afternoon I had a facial and a massage at a spa called Eden. Both therapists were Chinese, one from Hunan and one from Fuzhou; the latter, Sandra, was about the same age as me, had an 11 year old daughter (it's amazing what you can find out from someone who's wrapping a hot towel around your chin) spoke Cantonese as well as Mandarin and was delighted with my few hamfisted phrases. I lay on the massage table listening to, apparently, the music which wafts from the speakers of every spa I've ever been to worldwide (the CD is, I think, Now That's What I Call Inoffensive Tinkling 55) and thinking about the circumstances which led a Scottish-born Hong Kong resident and two Chinese born New York residents to a spa on Broadway on a sunny Sunday afternoon.