As I make ready to return to Shanghai at the end of February - a more semi-permanent move this time, for the purposes of a new job - I have been sifting through the stacks of worldly belongs that have accumulated in my family home in Sydney, trying to decide what I need to take with me. This is obviously not the time to be buying still more stuff that will not fit into my 30kg luggage allowance, and yet I persist. What gives?

SNIFFING

China, and even the glittering fount of cosmopolitanism that is Shanghai, is a bit of a desert wasteland when it comes to perfumes. Another cause for distress: glass bottles full of alcohol are not the easiest (or most light-weight) things to take onto a plane. I shall have to hope that a few full-sized bottles of perennial favourites (Fille en Aiguilles, Vetiver Oriental, Bandit, Timbuktu) and a hefty cosmetics bag full of decants (many of them courtesy of Dain) and Travalos will serve until I can next spare the time for a trip back in Sydney. In the meantime, I am spraying myself with clouds of scents that didn't make the full-bottle cut, and rediscovering in the process perfumes that I haven't worn in ages (Like This by Etat Libre d'Orange), not to mention new purchases that I have not spent nearly enough time with (Juliette Has A Gun Vengeance Extreme).

LISTENING

Alberto Iglesias' incredibly atmospheric score for Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy, which I really hope will win the Oscar for best score come February 26th. This is the second Le Carre adaptation that Iglesias has written the music for (the other was The Constant Gardener, a very differently flavoured soundtrack for which he also garnered an Oscar nomination), and he captures the paranoia and the elegiac tone of both book and film to perfection.

READING

I have no self-control when I step into a bookstore. My backlog of "new books I have yet to read" is so long, it could probably make for a small library in itself. Yet a book, I tell myself, is something that will never truly go to waste. What's more, I like to know that I'm doing my part in keeping the commercial publishing industry alive; the printed word, too, because, goodness knows, I spend a lot more on paper books than I do on new airplane-reading-material for my Kindle. Of the latest additions to my shelves (image below), I think the two volumes of Camus' notebooks (a gift from Melissa) will come with me to China.

The new (newish?) Daniel Mendelsohn translation of Constantine P. Cavafy's collected poetry ("The streets in which you pace/will be the same, you'll haunt the same familiar places,/and inside those same houses you'll grow old") is proving to be a delight, possibly even surpassing my abiding affection for the Rae Dalven translations ("Every effort of mine is a condemnation of fate;/and my heart is - like a corpse - buried"). But it will probably stay behind, purely on account of its size. The rest? Well, I guess I'd better get cracking reading.

WEARING

Whether I'm pairing it with a cream kitten-bow blouse at work or a casual white tee (and a statement necklace in chunky, rough-hewn amber) over the weekend, my navy Brother Skirt from Les Prairies de Paris is all class in a relaxed sort of way, with its two side pockets, strip of black suede running down the front, and hem just skimming the knees.

I have been wearing wool pencil skirts a lot lately; and blazers; and knits. The funny thing is that the weather has been so peculiar this summer in Sydney that it will hardly be much of a shock to the system to fly across the equator and suddenly find myself in a northern winter rather than the chilliest southern summer in my own personal memory. I wouldn't have to do anything more than throw on a coat.

An even more satisfying acquisition than my Les Prairies skirt, is my new Ole Lynggaard Sweet Drops bracelet. Not three weeks after I wrote this post about the Sweet Drops, I added one to my small, extremely select collection of "every day" jewellery. After near half an hour looking through the selection at Jordan's Jewellers (Market Street, Sydney), I eventually picked out an olive wrap-around leather bracelet, and a white gold/moonstone "Dew Drop" and silver/black onyx "Sweet Drop" to wear on it. It was a tough decision to make. Seeing them in person, one cannot fail to appreciate how carefully and meticulously they have been crafted. Each of the "Dew Drops" and "Sweet Drops" have a clasp that allows them to hold tightly to the band without scratching the soft leather. Each is further designed to hang only at a certain angle; the charms have room for movement, but not so much that they can rotate 360 degrees around the band and irritate the wearer. My bracelet is easy, understated, and a joy to wear.

EATING

All the things that I will miss in China: fresh (and affordable) mangoes/figs/papaya/avocados, Australian yogurt, Whisk & Pin gluten-free muesli, an Italian-strength espresso, newly shucked oysters that don't cost an arm and a leg (and won't lead to food-poisoning), really good Lebanese food… I could go on and on.

Labels: albert camus, alberto iglesias, cavafy, consumer diaries, etat libre d'orange, juliette has a gun, les prairies de paris, ole lynggaard, shanghai

2/14/2012 [2]

Bronzed goddess, Helena Christensen, in Ole Lynggaard Sweet Drops 2012 catalogue

While I tend to be easily distracted by the newest and shiniest in makeup, and as flighty and compulsive as a spring chick in acquiring updates to my wardrobe, when it comes to jewellery, my habits have always tended thus: find a signature piece that I love, elegant yet understated, flexible enough to hold its own with almost any outfit, and then wear it continuously (in the shower, if possible) until either loss or breakage necessitates the start of my search for a replacement.

My tastes in jewellery are not adventurous. In a purely aesthetic way, I can admire the sparkle of an ear lobe dripping with antique diamonds, the clink of bracelets stacked up the wrist like body armour, the goth-bohemian hardware of Abbey Lee - but they are not for me. All jewellery, in my case, is mostly sentimental, a physical anchor for me as I move through constantly shifting outward personas. Against the play of the ephemeral, my jewellery is something precious I wear next to my skin, like a secret. So it is a rare occasion that I start to daydream about a new addition.

I have been eying the Sweet Drops collection from the Danish jewellery house Ole Lynggaard for almost a year now. Customisable bracelets - the word "charm" is resolutely avoided, and indeed feels too slight to describe pieces with so much individual character - they combine the earthy minimalism of soft, exquisitely smooth calf leather with quietly lustrous drops of gold, silver, precious and semi-precious stones. The conceit is that there are no hard edges, no colours or shapes unfound in nature; the Sweet Drops take on the appearances of dew, pearls of caviar, sea-foam, and acorns. But they don't come cheap: a leather bracelet ($495 AUD) with two Sweet Drops can easily cost upward of $3000 AUD.

There are compromissory alternatives, of course. The Rapture collection from Najo, an Australian brand specialising in sterling silver jewellery, looks heavily modelled on Ole Lynggaard, and is a fraction of the price. But the addition of silver clasps, and their overwhelming "shininess", fail to capture the heart and the imagination the way the Sweet Drops do - the illusion that, like a creeping vine or a naked, fresh rose, they would be eternally graceful, and never out of place on any occasion.

Ole Lynggaard Sweet Drops are available from selected retailers around the world.

Labels: fashion notes, najo, ole lynggaard

1/24/2012 [2]

Jean Seberg wears Jean-Paul Belmondo’s hat in a scene from “Breathless,” by Godard.

Ole Lynggaard Sweet Drops Bracelet / Cle de Peau Beaute Ultra Rich Lipstick / Ormonde Jayne Champaca / Loewe Bolso Amazona

Labels: blistex, cle de peau, loewe, milani, nu + nan, ole lynggaard, ormonde jayne, saba, serge lutens, the sketchbook, ursula k. leguin, walter m. miller jr., william dalrymple

9/26/2011 [5]

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