It must seem as I have fallen off the edge off the earth, but the truth is not even half as dramatic. Little man was sick and there was quite a lot to do for Cosima Inc. Whenever I sat down in front of the computer to write a blog post, I couldn’t find the energy to piece the words together. Instead I watched television. We subscribe to a broadband tv service, and they offer a wide choice of US, European, and Asian channels.
I am strangely fascinated by all the reality tv shows. There are tv shows about people trying to get their own businesses out of the red, about people sifting through the clutter of their homes, people slimming down, being better housewives, being better dads, renovating their homes, … etc, etc. It is always the same story. People start by being hopeless slobs and end up well-organized and pretty.
It’s nice to watch. Firstly it’s comforting to know that there are greater slobs out there than me, and secondly that there is always a happy ending… always. Some are harder to believe than others, but these tv shows are strangely comforting. Even if you are a slob, your children are little monsters, and your home is crumbling, there is hope.
I am also trying to ignore the Christmas theme springing up around me. This year, I just can’t take it. Luckily, in Hong Kong that’s easier to do than in Europe or America. I just wish my local supermarket would not play that tacky Christmas CD over and over.
The only Christmas stuff I am able to take are Christmas cooking shows. Seeing people that have never cooked before, creating a perfect family Christmas dinner is very comforting. I will survive Christmas, I will, I will… because I just need to smile and play along… I don’t need to cook dinner.
Hongkong’s English-language newspaper has a regular feature in its “Life” section, asking local fashion gurus what they have in their closets. Most interviewees brag about their Manolo Blahniks, which isn’t too interesting to read. If they had guts they would interview Birkenstock wearers like me…
Wardrobe staple?
Jeans. I own four pairs of identical jeans that fit well, look good, and are very comfortable to wear.
What would you never throw out of your closet?
I would throw out anything, but there are a few items I am very attached too. One is a black cashmere wool coat, which is at least fifteen years old. I like it’s cut very much, but sadly it has become very threadbare at the ends of the arms. I am constantly on the lookout for a similar coat that can replace it.
Fashion no-nos?
Isn’t everything allowed these days? I think women should wear what suits them and fits well. Unfortunately, that’s very hard to do. Many of the clothes in stores have been designed with malnourished teenagers in mind, and for larger sizes all that is done is to add a few extra inches of fabric all around. It’s no wonder that these clothes do not look good.
Must-have accessory?
My red wallet by Spanish leather goods maker Loewe. I bought it on impulse over ten years ago. Before, I owned dark colored wallets that I never managed to find quickly in my purse, and regularly fell apart after only a year. The red beauty was insanely expensive. I think at no point in time did it hold more money than it cost. However, after more than ten years of trusty service, I feel that the initial outlay has been amortized.
Shoe pick for the season?
Eh… the same pick as last year. Winter is coming up, and I hope I get to take out my boots out of their hiding-place under the bed. At the moment, it’s much to warm to wear them.
Favourite shoe designer? Birkenstock. To my defense, I have to say that I wear the more feminine models. They are very comfortable and keep my feet healthy, but what is best is the cork material the soles are made of It keeps the feet cool in summer, which is so nice in Hong Kong’s hot and humid weather.
To all who say that Birkis are ugly…
…to get feet like these is much uglier.
Flats or stilettos?
Both. I wear flats when I have to walk a lot, and stilettos when I dress up.
Your best high-street steal?
Hmmm… I think that reduced 5er pack of bikini knickers was a great buy.
Bag pick for the winter?
I have to buy a new one. I had bought a brightly colored handbag from Nepal at a Berlin street market this summer, but it unravelled at the seams. It cost only ten Euros. At the moment, I am using a rather elegant black Coach bag, which I had bought ages ago for the office. Looks a bit ridiculous with jeans and Birkis.
Most cherished fashion items?
Lingerie. I love buying it, and I love putting it on because it puts me in a good mood. Also my sun glasses, because I look like a Bond girl when wearing them they shade my eyes from the merciless Hong Kong sun.
What do you buy every winter?
Paper tissues for the snivels.
What’s on your “most wanted” fashion list for winter?
A wool cap in which I don’t look like a complete dork, before I go to Germany for Christmas.
Style icon?
I think Vivienne Westwood is pretty cool. First off, she has a face that reminds me of Maggie Thatcher’s, still she manages to portray the exact opposite image. That’s a feat in itself. Secondly, I get the feeling that she really understands the craft of tailoring, and designs with originality and wit.
High-end or high street?
I am thinking about putting up a PayPal-button in the sidebar for high-end fashion donations, or I could apply to become Karl’s next muse…
In the meantime, it’s the lower end of high street.
Personal style philosophy?
Both my mom and my grandmother were tailors, which doesn’t make me very knowledgeable about fashion, but I can appreciate the skill and experience that goes into a well designed and well sewn piece of clothing. There is a huge difference between a tailor-made garment, cut for your figure, and a ready-made piece. I can’t really afford to have tailor-made clothing, but I am pretty discerning about fit. I love to wear clothing that looks feminine and is comfortable at the same time.
Fashion disaster?
Shoes that looked and felt good when trying them in the shop, but caused lots of blisters later on… I have a few of those.
Favourite winter fashion accessories?
;D
Your fashion style?
Whatever Hennes & Mauritz has to offer with the occasional high-priced retail therapy item thrown in.
Wardrobe essentials?
Always make sure your fly is zipped before going out into the street. I think that’s pretty essential.
PS: The Chinese medicine helped. My cold isn’t gone completely, but I can breathe again.
I have just watched Perfume, and remembered a topic that was floating around the blogosphere a while back. I don’t know if it was a meme, but several bloggers wrote about their favorite smells.
In Perfume, the lead character has an extraordinary sense of smell, and goes on a mission to preserve scents he loves with rather grueling consequences. The movie is a very good adaptation of the book. If you can, read the book first and then watch the movie. I found Ben Wishaw performance, who plays the lead character Jean-Baptiste Grenouille, especially powerful.
Jean-Baptiste Grenouille goes to great length to preserve scents, but for me one of the most enduring aspects is that it is fleeting. Depending on the smell, fleetingness is a godsend (think rotting meat under mid-day sun) or heightens the preciousness of it. Of all the five senses, the sense of smell seems to be the least important, but I think I would miss it very dearly if I would loose it.
I am constantly stumped for an answer if people ask me for my favorite book, song, or holiday destination, but I definitely know my most favorite smell.
The best scent of all is that of a newborn baby. I will never forget how little man smelled when I first held him in my arms. He smelled of amniotic fluid, which is better than any expensive perfume. Mother Nature has some very powerful tricks up her sleeves to ensure that we fall in love with our children from the beginning. I was rather cross, when a mid-wife wanted to bathe my baby in Johnson & Johnson baby bath.
I think smell is also a key ingredient in any erotic encounter. Even just a kiss, placed wherever you prefer, lets you come close enough to smell your lover’s skin. Not to mention the smell of a room during sex. Just imagine how different and less satisfying the experience would be without your sense of smell.
Next comes food, and there are very few food smells that I dislike. Isn’t it wonderful to lift the lid of a cooking pot on a stove and be hid by waves of goodness? Or the smell of home-made cookies wavering through the house, or ripe mangoes as you cut them, or freshly picked tomatoes, or… I could go on and on.
On some days, my morning includes a visit to the neighborhood coffee shop for a cappuccino, quick read through the newspaper, and the occasional chat with a friend or stranger. The coffee shop serves as a meeting place for the neighborhood, and I think one of the reasons why everyone loves to go there is the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. For me it is connected with a feeling of calm and comfort, a short break from the worries and stress of daily life, a little indulgence.
Yesterday, I was at the ocean front, a light breeze was coming from the water, and I was thinking that the salty ocean air has one of the nicest smells. It’s very strong, and after a few hours at the beach it’s in every pore. I associate precious memories with it, of days at the beach with family and friends, taking a swim in the ocean, or boat trips along the shore.
I have many more favorite smells, and the more I think of it, the more I am aware that many of them are connected to precious memories of a person or place. I wonder what comes first, a smell that we then associate with the moment we experienced it, or the experience itself and the smell that came with it, or both at the same time?
I view life as a mix of going with the flow and occasionally stepping back, assessing, and adjusting course. It’s quite a change from a few years back, when I thought that life is best steered with sheer will power and forging ahead without looking left or right.
It is something my son taught me. When I was pregnant with him, I thought that I could do it all: work in a demanding job and be a good mommy, but experience has told me otherwise. I stepped back and set priorities, and the number one priority was and still is my son. I also decided to see where life would take me next.
I am very grateful for the change I was forced to make, because I don’t think I would have been happy, if life had just continued as before. I call it my early mid-life crisis, and I am glad that it came when I was thirty and not forty-five.
Hong Kong is such a business and work-oriented city, and it is very easy to get sucked into this race for more money, a better career, or the next big deal. But then, once in a while, you have to ask yourself, if these things are really worth the time and effort, you invest into them, and more importantly what you loose while pursuing them.
Still, most of us have to earn money, and I am no exception. I am also someone who gets extremely unhappy when I am not financially independent. A former colleague of mine told me, half-jokingly but still with longing eyes, that she would like to be a tai tai, which is the Cantonese term for being the wife of a very wealthy man. “I want to have high tea at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel with girl-friends, instead of going back to work after lunch”. I have nothing against chatting away the afternoon at the Mandarin Oriental, but I would like to pay the bill with my own credit card.
So the goal for the next few months, especially now that my son started school and I have more time, is to make Cosima Inc into a business with a regular income stream, but still not loose sight of the fact that life should be fun. I think it’s achievable, especially the fun part, because having your own business affords a lot of freedoms that are not there when you work for someone else.
Caught a cold this week and it has gotten worse. Can’t breathe and terrible headache, much sneezing and coughing. But have to take care of business and little man, nevertheless. Hope he doesn’t catch it.
Yesterday’s outing to Causeway Bay was a big mistake. Outside it was hot and humid, inside the shops and restaurants it was icy cold. Not good if you have the snivels anyway.
See you you all in a few days, when I have stopped coughing up something that looks like ancient brown chewing gum (aren’t you glad I shared that?).
Der Schnupfen
von Christian Morgenstern
Ein Schnupfen hockt auf der Terasse
auf dass er sich ein Opfer fasse,
- und stürzt alsbald mit großem Grimm
auf einen Menschen namens Schrimm.
Paul Schrimm erwidert prompt: Pitschü!
und hat ihn drauf bis Montag früh.
The Sniffle
Translation by Max Knight
A sniffle crouches on the terrace
to catch a victim he can harass.
And suddenly he jumps with vim
upon a man by name of Schrimm.
Paul Schrimm, responding with “hatchoo,”
is stuck with him the weekend through.
PS: Lecram and Osbasso, Don’t think you are off the hook on the interview. But please give me a bit more time.
First I tip-toed out of the bedroom where little man was sleeping, then I swung my hips along the hallway, and finally tap-danced in the kitchen while my noodles where cooking (with lobster flavor out of a sachet… don’t say anything). I wish it would have looked remotely similar to this…
The whole day, I had a sense of foreboding. Something just had to happen, but in the end nothing did. The morning was nice. I slept in, and it felt luxurious, but then the day kind of fizzled out. I worked the whole day, but didn’t finish what I set out to do, there was just too much of it. Frustrating.
In the evening, the walls started to close in, and I went for a walk after little man fell asleep. A long walk, more than two hours long through dark streets. It didn’t help. I had the urge to pinch myself, just to feel something. I can live with happiness, I can live with sadness, it’s the middle that kills me.
I feel restless.
…and I should really go to sleep… one o’clock… now it’s much too late for anything… anyway.
LACHE, WENN ES NICHT ZUM WEINEN REICHT Laugh, When It’s Not Enough to Cry Over
by Herbert Grönemeyer
translation by Julia Flood and Hyde Flippo
stolen from http://german.about.com/library/blmus_groeneMN05.htm
Thousand hairs in your soup
And your spoon has a hole
There is no shooting star
Your candle has no wick
You’re tortured by a never-
ending hiccup
Your soccer field is always
full of snow
Your gearshift is stuck
in neutral
Even your slow lane is
icy
In the bus of time you can
only find standing room
Standing room, standing room
in a skidding dream1
You’ll do any favor for anyone
You are modest and engaged
You are being used
by everyone
Don’t get a thank you,
just a kick
The Valley of Tears is
closed, too
The Wailing Wall, the Wailing
Wall is occupied
And if one day is so much
like another
And if life is
unbearably shallow
And if inside you emigrated
a long time ago
Laugh, when it’s not
enough to cry over
Your ship already
without rats
The captain already
overboard
Abandoned by everyone
in this world
Sprung a leak on the
high seas
There’s no spirit left
in the bottle
Not enough imagination
for paradise
The wrong wishes
coming true
No love, no poetry
No danger, no adventure
Sameness,
sameness,
melancholy
And if one day is so much
like another
And if life is
unbearably shallow
And if inside you emigrated
a long time ago
Laugh, when it’s not
enough to cry over
And if they also call
you a mimosa2
And if you drag your feet
behind the times
Every heart has
its rose
Laugh, when it’s not
enough to cry over
And if one day is so much
like another
And if life is
unbearably shallow
And if inside you emigrated
a long time ago
Laugh, when it’s not
enough to cry over
And finally reach for
the stars
No planet too far for you
Fortunately you can’t
forget how to yearn
There’s still so much time
left for crying
Fortunately you can’t
forget how to
yearn, right?
There’s still so much time
left for crying
1“Schleudertraum” (skidding dream) is a pun on “Schleudertrauma” (whiplash) 2“eine Mimose” (mimosa plant) is an oversensitive person
I have a thousand things to do, but can’t get anything finished. It feels extremely frustrating. In theory, now that little man goes to school, I should have more time, but the last week felt even busier than the ones before.
Most of the things on my to-do-list are important matters for Cosima Inc. Until now it was a small scale business, to even call it a business feels like an exaggeration, but my partner and I have been making steady progress and gained experience. It’s time to do it on a larger scale with a bit more organization. Now that my son is in school for most of the day that should be possible… in theory. The first thing to do is to bring organization and scheduling to my grand plans, and afterwards get an office.
Working from home has its advantages, but there is not enough space in my flat. My bed, the one you also see as the backdrop in most of my HNT pictures, has been serving as the headquarters of Cosima Inc for the last year… I am not kidding. The choice is between a bigger flat with one more room or a separate office. Both options have their pro and cons, but my gut feeling tells me to rent a small office space. There are too many distractions at home, and it is also harder to finish for the day and enjoy your private time. On the other hand, I am worried about the cost of renting an office space and the commuting time. A small space near an MTR station, not in the glitziest part of town, would be ideal. Will be interesting what I can find when I get around to it. Maybe next week, after I have taken care of all the other pressing things.
This evening, so many thoughts went through my head, and I would have liked to go for a walk to get them all sorted out, but the kitchen was one big mess and I still had to prepare little man’s lunch for tomorrow. First I cleaned a mountain of dishes to gain working space, then I cooked little man’s lunch (pork chop, carrots, and noodles), and afterwards prepared pumpkin soup. While the pumpkin soup was simmering (small pumpkin, 4 carrots, big onion, 3 cloves of garlic, chunk of ginger, one red chili, chicken stock, tomorrow I will add lentils to the mix), I cleaned the kitchen once more. It looked so nice and clean. Pristine. Then I took out the hand-held blender to puree the soup…
Me and the blender have been at war for a long time. There have been incidences before, but I thought I had figured this wicked machine out. Not so. Pumpkin soup sprayed across the stove, floor, and cupboards. I opened my mouth to scream, but all that came out was hysteric laughter.
So I cleaned the kitchen for a third time. It’s now so clean that you can eat sushi from the floor.
Do you ever have one of those days, when the sun, peeking through your window in the morning, puts you in a real fool mood, because your inner barometer, the one in your head, points to storm?
That’s how I felt yesterday. I wasn’t sick, didn’t even have a headache, but was feeling not up to par anyway. I wanted to stay in bed, the whole day. But that’s a luxury few people can indulge in, and I certainly cannot.
So I drank two cups of coffee on empty stomach to get up to speed (yeah, yeah… don’t say anything), and then brought little man to his swimming lesson. While little man practiced “frog legs” in the big pool, I went through all the possible reasons why I was feeling crappy. I couldn’t find any. None that would justify staying in bed the whole day anyway.
I dragged myself through the day and drank lots of coffee, which didn’t help one bit. During a free minute I googled “constant tiredness”. The site I clicked on told me that drinking coffee makes you even more tired, which confirmed my suspicion, and advised to do more exercise. Nope, that was not the answer I was looking for. So, I googled some more, and came up with three more satisfying explanations: constant fatigue syndrome, anemia, and clinical depression. Which reminded me of a newspaper article, which said that the internet encouraged hypochondria. After reading up on these three illnesses, I decided that I didn’t want to have any of them, and was just having a crappy day.
In the late afternoon, a thunderstorm came up, half an hour of loud thunder and lightning and very little rain, and suddenly I was feeling much better. Turns out that my inner barometer didn’t lie to me. This morning my period started, and delivered another explanation.
A long while ago, I saw a documentary about a tribe in Africa, who outcasts menstruating women to a hut outside the village, because they were considered impure. Much to the surprise of the film-maker, the women didn’t mind at all. It was like a holiday for them.
Right now, I wouldn’t mind an off-limits hut somewhere nice. Throw in a comfy bed, internet connection, and a few books, and my period may last for two weeks.
;D
