Kiss Me, Colour Me

First Published on Fashionising.com

Call it an injection of happiness in the wardrobe or just a blow of optimism in the retail conundrum, but bold colours are certainly the talk of the town. No matter which part of world you’re in, it’s almost impossible to miss the splashes of high-voltage colours on the streets, on mannequins, in runway collections… basically everywhere.

Just as nothing is off limits in the clothing department, the beauty shelves are also getting their share of appreciation for embracing the colour trend. The traditional summer beauty of sun-kissed skin with neutral shades has had a makeover, and has dived into a rainbow.

From the entire range, the most infallible make-up item for spring 2011 is a bright lipstick. Be it joyous sunshine or overcast skies, a tinted lip is an instant mood uplifter, for yourself and onlookers.

So ladies, pucker up. The awash of vivid colours is about to raid your lips and it’s time to celebrate the cheer with Fashionising.com. Even if you’re about to board a winter wonderland flight, then we urge you to reading our full guide – the colours will only make the snowfall outside a pallid blur.

Follow the link to read about preparation tips, how-to steps, product suggestions and HOT lip hues for 2011.

Click HERE to read the entire feature.

Image Credit: Kelly Defina for Fashionising.com

Single and the City

Warning: This is not a pity post. Neither is it a smart-arse piece inspired by ‘Sex and the City’. Don’t trust me, well read away then.

If we’re friends, you’d know that I am a serious coffeeholic (I’m getting treated for it, don’t worry). If you’re casually visiting my blog baby (shame on you for not being regular), then you need to know three things about me – I wear really bright shoes, I laugh a lot and drink way too much coffee. When the three collide, it’s rather amusing. You might even pay to be around me on those special days. Grab a seat and watch me do the buzzing dance, why don’t you?

But getting back to important things, a few months ago, an international publication published an opinion piece written by me about coffee and baristas. Haven’t read it yet? It’s okay, everyone makes silly life decisions - click HERE to read the piece. You’ll smile, I promise.

When the article went live on CNNGo.com, I was sitting in a cafe (obviously). I had my frozen fingers wrapped around my bowl of cappuccino, I opened the webpage and my reaction to the “edited” piece was a BIG, loud laugh.

I laughed. I got teary. I laughed again in ridicule. I swelled up in disgust.

This reaction was not a follow-up to my article, but to the chosen sub-heading and title of the article. On an universal level (CNNGo is read is in over 10 countries), I was given the title of a “lonely girl”. It didn’t just limit itself to the webpage, but spread across social media too. Tweets, Facebook status updates – it was everywhere with my name attached to it.

Journalistically, I was very happy with my article but I didn’t know what was a socially acceptable reaction to the heading – laugh or cry? That’s all I could see – it was staring at me. I thought it was pretty funny that my editor thought I was ‘lonely’ for considering being friends with the man who makes my coffee. But does that make me a loner? Too many questions and too much contemplation.

I moved to Sydney only a few months ago and even though I wouldn’t tag myself as ‘lonely’, I do spend my weekends drinking wine and watching ‘Under the Tuscan Sun’ on repeat.
This is also because there isn’t a guy in the horizon. There – I said it.
But that gives me the ‘single’ and ‘making new friends’ status – not lonely. Which is why, I decided to shortlist things I’ve learnt in the past six months of moving to a new city while enjoying singleton. Surely not everyone in the city is hooked.
This IS Sydney, after all. Stereotype says men get bored of their ladies really quick and the ladies are too career-driven to commit to a man.

So here are 11 things I’ve learnt, cherished and embraced as a single girl in this spanking city.

1. Having a bathroom and toilet to yourself is the most rewarding aspect of living. Seat always remains down and you’re the Queen of the toilet.
2. Untoasted muesli + Chia seeds + flaxseed oil + almonds = you never have to cook again. It can be eaten for breakfast, lunch, dinner, midnight snack, hangover hog, a drunken meal or even when you’re dying.
3. The process of removing bed sheets for a wash and then putting them back on is a hardcore cardio activity. Guaranteed 500+ calories burn.
4. Your gym trainer knows your sleeping pattern but doesn’t know your name.
5. A ferry ride becomes the perfect getaway on a lazy Saturday afternoon. And eavesdropping tourists’ conversation has never been more entertaining.
6. You start buying flowers for yourself and eventually get them for free because the florist knows the reason. He also might be a creepy Italian, but that’s not the point.
7. Dreaming about a fluffy puppy and a hot man on the same night is never sinful. Never ever.
8. You start mastering the art of ‘Table for One’. You have more confidence, exuberance and get more respect from waiters.
9. Finishing an entire bottle of Shiraz on a Friday night is as easy as putting on underwear.
10. The fortnightly waxing ritual now becomes a monthly session. Sometimes even after six weeks. But shhh, don’t tell the ‘downstairs’ fairy or even Santa, for that matter.
11. You exercise your creative mind by complaining about your hypothetical boyfriend’s infidelity dramas to strangers on the train. They take you seriously and abuse your boyfriend. You take them seriously and start crying. Fun… all fun!

You tell me – can you relate with any of these? Is your pantry full of wine and cheese? How do you celebrate being ‘single’?

Attention! Attention!

You’re on a train; fidgeting with your scarf, fixing your hair, readjusting your handbag. You look up and a gorgeous, handsome man is staring at you. What do you do?

You look away and still feel his eyes peeled on you (or your inability to multitask).
You freak out, get a little uncomfortable with the gaze.
You secretly smile at the idea of being looked at. You think that someone is (visually) appreciating the effort you put into getting dressed this morning.

He might just be the biggest jerk born on planet Earth, but in your head, you’re getting the attention which isn’t just self-assuring, but it’s nice. It’s different and nothing else really matters. There’s something about male gaze that speaks for itself. It makes you feel sexy, confident and special. And especially when you get it from someone other than your boyfriend/husband. While some women crave it, others modestly embrace it. And then there are those who go all out to get the attention using their boobs, curly hair, red lips – whatever works really.

I see it as a confidence booster. A medium to make you feel more attractive. Or let’s go extreme here, a reason to live and dress up. However, in some ways, the gaze is also classified as objectifying the body and seeing it as a ‘thing’. When someone stares at you, it makes you feel vulnerable and not particularly in a good way.

It makes me wonder, what is it about male attention that makes the heart flip? It makes you want to step out of your apartment with the widest smile.
And what about it do you resent? Has it ever made you cover yourself up?
If you’re a man and a beautiful girl gives you ‘the look’, how does that affect you?

Tell me what do you do when you get a ‘look’ from a man/woman…

House For One

I’ve played the game of going to a fancy restaurant and asking for a ‘table for one’. I still remember getting strange and sympathy-laden look from staff. Imagine announcing to the world how miserably lonely you are. You actually aren’t, but that’s what the rest of the ‘hooked-in-a-committed-relationship’ world thinks. That’s what it felt like. As my social life continued to be the subject of judgement, I saw a sudden burst of confidence and power in me. The power to be my own person. And to find that person.

This ‘table for one’ deal got me flirting with the idea of living alone. It didn’t seem all that bad. Having an apartment to myself and nobody else, seemed fascinating and tempting. No longer would I have to worry about who ate my cereal or who had to do the washing first. I could walk around in my towel all day and even practice naked yoga in the living room (i’ve heard it’s got its own unique benefits).

In the last ten years or so women have increasingly cherished the idea of living alone, not because they are single, divorced, widowed, or crazy, but because they want to. Television shows and movies are to be blamed as well. Carrie Bradshaw made it look stylish and Phoebe Buffay made it look playful. The girls didn’t have a man to cook for and definitely didn’t need any help in fixing false fire alarms. They glamourised the vision of living alone. The idea of ‘Friday nights in’ was no longer for weirdos, but considered as a legitimate option. A bottle of wine, Thai takeout and a sloppy rom-com sealed the deal. It still manages to calm plenty of women out there. Believe you me!

Movies like Bridget Jones’s Diary have convinced the society that single women who live alone are depressed. Period. They make them believe that single women have no life and they watch Saturday night television in their granny panties.

But this got me wondering, why are single women compelled to associate themselves with a man to be entitled for a ‘happily ever after’ ending? Why aren’t single women with successful careers tagged as ‘settled’ or ‘happy’? What did Jerry Maguire mean when he blurted out the infamous line, “you complete me”?

Today, being in a relationship is almost as important as getting a university degree. The idea of being with a significant other or a soulmate is almost a life requirement now. It’s a compulsion because those are societies’ expectations. Yes, women can have a career and rule the corporate world in the most jazzy shoes, but if they’re enjoying an expensive glass of wine all by themselves, they are instantly flagged with the sympathy card. Or even a judgemental one.

This scared me when I got the opportunity to live alone for 10 days.

Last week, my housemates were away so I had the house to myself. My 18-year old self would have thrown a party every night, drank goon from the sack and possibly wrecked the house. But four years later, the 22-year old in me just wanted another being in the house. I wanted to hear a voice in the vicinity bar my loud typing. It was a weird, hollow feeling in my chest that just wouldn’t go away. I felt alone. Really alone. Perhaps, living the life of a ‘freelance journalist’ didn’t help either. I didn’t get out bed till 2pm, endured painful bum cramps (from sitting on my bum all day – duh!) and only left the house to buy milk and newspaper.

That was the moment when I thought, maybe the living alone thing isn’t for me? Maybe I’m not ready to take life by its horns and go crazy with my single life. Even though I dared myself to stay away from cringeworthy rom-coms and greasy take-outs, my inner voice kept telling me something. It said, “this is a very risky road. Don’t go there”.

But there’s something in me that still wants to take the plunge. Dive into the carefree world and not worry about how many ‘committed’ couples surround me. I moved countries, then moved states… perhaps now it’s time to make the next crazy decision and rent an apartment. Just for me.

A house for one!

Perhaps.

The Fashion Lens

Sick as a dog (twice), eating double the amount as a cover up for every meal that i’d missed out and getting used to my ‘real’ height (no stiletto business, anymore). This was post-Australian Fashion Week for me.

It’s over and done with now. Phew. And so is its reporting. The online world is deluged with Fashion Week posts, previews, backstage videos and interviews, but my baby still hasn’t gotten any love. Y’know, my baby? This little/fancy/beautiful/lovely/sexy page that’s keeping you entertained and currently helping you procrastinate.
I had backstage and front of house access to fashion shows all week at RAFW, along with an entry-level camera. So, to treat your eyes I’ve compiled a handful of my favourite images from the week.

And if you still haven’t read my Fashion Week posts (shame on you), click here NOW and scroll down to Rosemount Australian Fashion Week 2011. Or just read it all.

‘Hat’ she known!

Pippa Middleton, Prince Harry, the permanently-shocked Grace – kindly step aside. Even though you all may look glorious on a magazine cover, post-wedding, Princess Beatrice’s wedding attire is still on everyone’s mind. No one can seem to get enough of it.

Philip Treacy designed hats for the majority of women present in the wedding chapel. I bet he wasn’t expecting one of his creations to be the laughing matter for the world. Especially when the media is talking about where Will and Kate are honeymooning (or whether Kate will sport a bikini), the public is busy photoshopping a toilet seat, an octopus, a cat, a horse and even Osama’s face on Beatrice’s poor choice of accessory.

Initially, I felt sorry for Beatrice. Her quirky style was obviously not being acknowledged. But not after I saw this ebay page. Her atrocious hat is being auctioned on ebay! And would you believe, it’s for a good cause. The money raised from the highest bid goes to UNICEF and Children in Crisis.

Interestingly enough, it has already got 64 bids with £18,400(GBP) being the highest till now. Can’t wait to see who nabs this one.
Maybe Lady Gaga’s stylist has her eye on it?

Image Credits – Google Images

And the nominations are …

I’d be lying if I said that I haven’t practiced my Academy Award speech. Standing in front of the mirror with a perfume bottle (closest replica) and tearing up at the sheer brilliance of all my contemporaries in the industry. Commending all the professionals who have acknowledged my talent as an actor.

Hold on… I’m not an actor. What a stupid thought.

If destiny beckons, then one day I shall interview someone at the Academy Awards and analyse their speech. I’m a journalist and i’ll stick to that. For now.

Just because journalists don’t have stylists, make-up artists, publicists, managers, paparazzi circling around them, doesn’t mean they can’t get awarded. We work hard too, you know. All the procrastination and writer’s blocks that we have to conquer – sheesh!

So, Sydney Writer’s Club is awarding us for it. They are now feeding the source of all rambles, blabbers and useless yarns by awarding the best blogger in Australia.

And the reason I’m telling you this is because I have been NOMINATED in the People’s Choice Category. Hurrah!

I started this baby about a year ago and I was pretty sure I’d get lost among all the hundred million blogs out there. I’m sure it’s still a little hard to track ‘Sweet Dreams in my World’ down (its owner is pretty short, you see).

BUT, I’ve been nominated. Yahooo!

You’re probably reading this because you’re either procrastinating or have subscribed to this blog (If you don’t fall under either of the two categories, please contact me – we might be onto something special).

I’m just fueling your procrastination by asking you to vote for me. If you’ve ever giggled at any of my posts or passed it on to a friend, then follow the steps below.

1. Pause that video on Youtube, yes the one where the baby is dancing to Snoop Dogg’s latest song.
2. Click on the shiny “Vote For Me Now” logo on the right.
3. Find my blog – “Sweet Dreams In My World – Shitika Anand” on page three.
4. Click Done.

And voila! You’ve earned yourself a double scoop of chocolate chip ice-cream.

Can you get me one too? In a waffle cone, please. Thanks.

P.S. I love your cute little socks for voting. ♥

Stealing your Blush

Remember the time when your mum didn’t let you wear eyeliner to school. Not even a subtle dust of black kohl.

I don’t know about your mother, but mine made sure that my high school memories were make-up free. I was appreciative of the ‘anti-foundation’ movement for 20 years of my life. Almost 20. Babies don’t wear make-up, right? Unless you’re watching Toddlers and Tiaras.

I didn’t know what an ‘illuminator’ was until two year ago. My first attempt at applying a liquid eyeliner resulted in several tears. Several. I am yet to perfect GHD curls. I’ll never know the correct way of washing make-up brushes. It was only three weeks ago when a rosy-red lipstick peeped from my beauty cupboard and smiled at me.

We are currently standing on a giant beauty intersection. Look right and there’s a beauty blogger. Look left and a make-up counter with a fountain of products is glaring at you. Look up and there’s a beauty editor waving at you. Look down and you’ve shit your pants with beauty-related anxiety. There is so much information for our tiny brains that no matter how many hair masques we apply, majority of us will undergo pre-mature balding.

However, women will always be women. We still want someone to tell us what perfume to spritz on a crisp autumn day. We just can’t get enough.

Which is why, I am joining a very talented crew and adding my shrieking voice to the beautified conversation.

Ladies (and gentlemen, who are interested in our world), I am The Modern Woman’s Survival Guide’s brand new Beauty Intern.

Sparkling new. Just rinsed myself with Spray n Wipe. Fresh out of the oven.

This unexpected gig landed in my inbox over the weekend and it surprised the bronzer out of me. I have been a MWSG reader for over two years now. I was one of those annoying, unlucky readers who commented on every post and entered every competition. The kind who never win anything but retweet every post.

Today, I’m chuffed to be a part of the website. The Beauty editor, Jo Davy, and I share a similar vision for the website and its beauty department. We look forward to bringing the very best of beauty to your computer screens/iPads/iPhones/dodgy Sony Ericssons.

All you have to do is, ‘like’ the Facebook page, so you can stay updated with all the Modern beauty yarns. Duh. I’m not trying to promote a prize giveaway here.

Then send me some macarons, so I can start researching about…. how macarons assist in beauty writing.

Read my bio OVER HERE.

Broke and Decaffeinated

Fuzzy words. I’m trying to comprehend the front-page article. Newspaper is crumpling in my hands. This is ridiculous, I can’t even hold a piece a paper. Grumbling at my co-passenger’s laptop bag that’s touching my knee. This is going to be a long day. Nothing can ease this agitation.

Every morning, I vow to survive a caffeine-free day without complaining and ten minutes later, I crumble to failure. Why didn’t I miss coffee as much as I do now, when I was on my detox? Why didn’t I crave its frothy goodness when I slurped Milo as a kid?

On days like these, I curse the person who introduced me to cappuccinos and made me realise how incomplete I feel when I can’t feel the warmth of the beverage between my fingers. I miss the piping hot sensation on my tongue. Its aroma that seeps through the plastic cup – oh my!

The day I moved to my new home in Sydney, the first thing on my to-do list was to find my local coffee shop, make best friends with the barista and make sure he learnt my complicated order by heart (it’s a nightmare of an order, no jokes). As the days flew by, the funds from my bank account flew along. Money vanished like it was playing a game of hide and seek with my account (secretly, I’m still hoping that’s the case). Even though I’ve mastered the concept of “budgeting”, it’s hard to not budget for a daily cup of coffee.

People say, “why don’t you make coffee at home?”. My answer to them is, “have you tasted shit? That’s what home coffee tastes like”. And it’s true. After convincing my wallet to not jump out the second I walked past a cafe, I resorted to drinking coffee at home. Fail. The after-effects were the same. It consisted of hyperventilation, warm ear lobes, shaky fingers, and all that. But the drink, in itself, bypassed every level of disgusting. It tasted like poo mixed with sugar in muddy, soy milk.

My next strategy was to make coffee at internship. That plan sounded perfect. They have a fancy coffee machine with even-more fancy coffee sachets. One possibly can’t go wrong with technology that requires minimum human effort. Just press a button.
Fail. Again. Except that this one tasted like poo in muddy water. Black coffee disaster.

It saddens me to see how stingy I’ve become. There were days when I bought others their compulsive morning drink. My fat wallet was bursting with loyalty cards from every coffee shop in town. Everyone knew my order.

Now…

My wallet is thin.
My head misses the coffee hit.
And my bank balance… let’s not go there.

I’m sure you’re sipping on your afternoon cup, as you’re reading this. Enjoy that while I go and refill my water bottle.

Alas!

Image Credit

Nicola Finetti Autumn/Winter 2011

First Published on Sassisam on February 23, 2011

Nicola Finetti is a man whose love for architecture, shape and a modern silhouette is obvious from all his collections.

There’s no surprise in his recent Autumn Winter 2011 collection, where Finetti creates a well-tailored but casual look.

Blurring the lines between sexy, bold and classy, Finetti’s new range features lace, ruffles, lots of drapery over thick cotton fabric. A nice blend of short dresses and cuff length pants gives the ladies plenty of options with shoes. Gladiators, booties or pumps – everything would go with this collection.

However, a pair of sheer stocking might come handy this season, or you can just brave the cold and adhere to Finetti’s vision “of a modern, fearless woman”.

A few floral pieces with subtle prints appeal to those who want some colour in their winter wardrobe. Candy pink, emerald green and sunflower yellow are rocking Finetti’s latest collection. The overall colour palette is camel, red, black and grey. Finetti says, “(the colours) give a more lushy and earthy element to the tailored pantsuits and bodysuits”.

To poke the party animal in you, Finetti has given some sequin dresses in silver and bronze undertones. The necklines are fairly high this winter, but Finetti didn’t think twice before revealing sexy backs.

Creating an evening drama, his long dresses are touched with the recent Hollywood trend of a short dress with long sheer fabric flowing over it. It gives a sensual yet chic look.

I personally think this is not his strongest collection, but Nicola’s design philosophy of allowing a woman to be a strong individual while embracing her femininity is manifested through this AW collection.

If you’re looking for a perfect boardroom to cocktail bar outfit, then jump onto Nicola Finetti’s brand new e-boutique feature on his website. Its worldwide shopping aspect allows you to pre-order an outfit before it hits the racks. There’s also free postage within Australia.

View the entire lookbook here.