Something I’ve Never Dared Post
and your other questions answered
I recently came across Man Repeller’s Harling Ross’ opinion “I’m Clinging to Personal Writing More Than Ever Right Now”. I was struck by how her creative needs responded to Covid-19:
They don’t need to be perfectly composed, or visually stimulating, or tied up in a neat bow. Better, actually, if they’re somewhat messy — a true reflection of the disarray that pervades this unprecedented juncture in our human lives, something akin to diary entries or mental ticker tapes.
In an attempt to react productively, I too shared how the virus had hit me emotionally and disrupted my posting schedule. Writing in long-form (personal voice) reminded me of the therapy of wording emotions into thoughts. And perhaps that’s what Harling was alluding to, a sense of assurance she’s earned journaling her experience freely, and a companionship enjoyed reading others’ outlook on our distancing/quarantining.
Last year, I answered some of your fashion/blogging/me questions. I’ve decided to answer some more questions today; hopefully it helps me assess what kind of uncertainty you’re facing.
“Write something you haven’t dared to publish.”
I’d never post stories I can’t substantiate with hard sources or spread unhelpful negativity, so while discussing unlikely romances and incendiary quarrels may seem like good content at first, I don’t think they’re ultimately best conveyed publicly. So I don’t think I could give a direct reply to “dare”.
“Why are people moving to TikTok?”
Either they think they’re hot or hilarious.
Such is the growing pains of new social media platforms: they’re the most cringe until you start using them. To me now, it seems like China’s attempt at capitalising the most vapid part of Instagram—the endless scroll of meme and hot-people videos on our Explore feeds—to maximise video view loops for influencers/brands to profit off.
I also question the longevity of a social media platform where the consumer-enjoyment to content-producing desire ratio is tipped so drastically; have you tried filming a TikTok challenge video? Think how Vine and Musical.ly (the former TikTok brand name) went down.
“Would you ever write about a personal tragedy?”
I did! Read “Dropping Out Was My Best Decision Ever”. Often, I try to be as transparent as is emotionally safe about my writing woes too. In the future? Only if I felt comfortable sharing a lesson I’d learnt from it.
“Who/what are some of your personal style inspirations?”
My style, which I’ve recently branded “pleasantly boring”, is a combination of my appreciation for the philosophy behind normcore (read it here) and a lofty need to excuse my laziness. I rarely shop, and when I do, I’m pretty particular about additions that can seamlessly jive with my rotation of t-shirts, jeans, sneakers.
I’ve also gotten some comments from friends saying I dress “like an editor”. Perhaps too it’s a subconscious “dress for the job you want”?
Style wise, I tend to appreciate people/brands whose lifestyles/values speak to my incessant need to appear carefree. If I like what you stand for, I find myself appreciating your (approach) to dressing up too, proving (needlessly) again that style is intelligence.
Think Caroline De Maigret, who recently admitted to BOF podcast’s Imran Amed about being shocked when her photos were first used in magazine trend pages—she almost literally #justwokeuplikethat.
Or one my favourite movies in the recent years, Call Me By Your Name, which, set “somewhere in Northern Italy”, employed Phoebe-era Céline designer Giulia Piersanti (read about it) to dress the film’s Elio and Oliver, played by my wet dream Armie Hammer and Timothée Chalamet.
“How much of dressing is subjective, objective?”
The more you know where your clothes come from—design and production-wise—the more (consciously or not) objective it becomes. Just think back to when you picked clothes that your parents already bought from GAP kids versus today that you’re more aware (I’m hoping) of the messages your t-shirts send (literally or otherwise).
“Least favourite fashion trend this year.”
Uncertainty.
“Do you think love is truly blind?”
Do you close your eyes (the whole time) you fuck?
“What was your lowest moment?”
Read “Dropping Out Was My Best Decision Ever”. It happened right after.
“If you were king of Singapore what’s the first thing you’d do?”
Write a story about it.
“Do you think a certain level of pretentiousness is necessary in the industry?”
I’m guessing you’re asking because you believe it exists. Pretentiousness seems to be more prevalent in fashion/media because it is (a) reported on more at mass (b) a highly relationship-oriented business, and being “fake” is sometimes best the protection against confusion when mixing professional with personal, lines which are occasionally crossed in anticipation of long-term benefits.
In defence, however, even the “realest” Eva Chen once noted in a Forbes interview, “The fashion industry is exactly that: it’s an industry.”
Also: isn’t dressing up the most primitive pretension?
