Saturday, January 26, 2008  12:12 AM
Ice-cream dreams
Distinct voices
All too familiar words
I froze
I ran
--
There's a sweet simplicity in an ice-cream cone which brings out that child in you. I also happen to be one of the worst consumers of ice-cream, more often than not with chocolate dribbled all over my mouth and chin.
So that was me today while sourcing (I love sourcing because it's shopping on the job, although it's not really part of my job scope, but the new stylist needed help with the new spring/summer collection for April) - the girl in the wine-coloured heels, seven huge shopping bags and the ice-cream cone from Haato. And the loveliest Moschino umbrella in all its pale blue glory with gorgeous red roses splashed all over it, coupled with the cutest silver handle. I don't know how it'll be used in the spread, but I saw it and fell in love with it immediately and I knew it had to be featured somewhere. I really wanted to open it not withstanding the fact that I had no more hands to hold it and it costs a couple of hundred dollars, way too much for the bright sun to be shining its harmful rays on. Anyway, my point is, you lose that flamboyant, pompous or glamourous air with an ice-cream cone. It's the childish act of delightfully licking and being emotionally happy from the sugar highs it brings. Maybe that's why Magnum days were fun.
Can you imagine someone in a pristine white Chanel suit and Louboutins with an ice-cream cone? I suppose not. A bottle of San Pellegrino would perhaps be more befitting.
The ice-cream cone was probably the only me part in this whole array of events which happened. The slob beneath the exterior. I was carrying huge shopping bags containing bags, shoes and accessories close to ten thousand dollars from shops I never even knew existed in Singapore.
Later, I sat along Orchard Road with my bags surrounding me as I waited for one of my colleagues. I plugged into my iPod with my favourite Canto playlist and watched the world go by which is something I never get to do. It was a fun hour as I people-watched.
The five-year-old with the Victoria Beckham bob (she'll get the assymetrical soon), the mothers who just stepped out from the gym, the giggly Japanese schoolgirls, the happy mismatched couple and the old man with the plastic bag labelled 'Leaping Lizard' (I wonder what they sell there). And I knew people were watching me just like I was watching them. Many times their roving eyes moved surreptitiously to my seven branded shopping bags and then to me, with my trusty notebook. I wonder which stereotype they were mentally fitting me into.
Two people stopped to ask me for directions and advice and I felt like I was from the Singapore Tourism Board.
I was also secretly burning in my black leggings which I bought from Japan because my normal ones were too thin for the weather there. They were perfect for my igloo of an office. Instead, I was out in the thirty-degree sweltering heat. Fashion kills.
Still, I love this part of my job. It's extremely informative. Did you know there's a Manolo Blahnik store in Singapore with a 70% sale? Yes, I might own my very first pair soon - contributors, anyone?
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