Saturday, June 28, 2014
"WAH!! You can speak Chinese ah," the cabbie uncle exclaimed in surprise in Mandarin. "I thought you ang moh! Your hair la... why leh? You want to be ang moh issit," he chuckled.
"No la Uncle, I just wanted to make a big change... This is cool la."
"Waaaah... come to think of it, your hair colour look more like 白发魔女 (the white haired demon maiden)"
I smiled, amused.
"Actually hor, you know ah.. her hair wasn't always white leh. Did you know that?"
"No leh, I never read the story before..," and I buckled in, knowing I was going to not only get a story, but an education.
It's actually quite sad, the white-haired maiden was very pretty, but her hair turned all white because of heartbreak, when her lover betrayed her.
"Aiyoh.. he cheated on her?"
No no. Nothing like that.
You see, her name was Lian.. and she was a vigilante like Robin Hood but she was a skilled martial artiste. And the guy, Zhuo, was actually going to help rescue his father, whom she and her group had captured, and stolen provisions from.
The thing is, they met by accident before he went to rescue his dad. And they already had sparks fly.
It was only during battle the next day, that the young Zhuo realised that the woman he had to fight, was her.
Eventually, they still fell deeply in love.
It was actually a mistake one day that he attacked her by accident, and she was heartbroken, thinking he betrayed her love.
And because she loved him so deeply, when she fell asleep heartbroken, she woke up, transformed- her whole head of hair had turned white.
Still heartbroken, both at her lover, and now, at her loss of beauty... Lian fled.
Zhuo, spent the rest of his life, trying to find her and make it up to her. Trying everything, including hunting for this special flower that could turn her hair back. Except it was a rare flower that bloomed once every 60 years.
"Wah, that's very sad Uncle... did he at least manage to succeed?"
I don't know.. I know that for years, because she was so heartbroken, she could not forgive him even though he tried very hard to win her back.
I remember in the show though, that he did finally find the flower. But once he had it... something happened and it got crushed or lost or something.
"Wah, Uncle, thank you for telling me that story... You know... I also changed my colour... because of heartbreak you know, and I didn't even know the story then."
The rest of the trip, I fell silent, contemplating all the events leading up to why I had gone for such a drastic hair change.
No regrets, but... interesting how legends can somehow come to life too, eh?
I can only hope, that my story will not have a tragic ending.
No guarantees on the hair colour though.
Tuesday, June 24, 2014
Monday, June 23, 2014
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
This is.. a bit hard for me to talk about still. Because I've never really shared about this experience of mine in detail. I've shared about this once on Razor a long time ago in brief - when we were talking about a police case about a girl who was taken advantage of. Why didn't she see the signs earlier? How she could have avoided it.
I will talk about it, solely because, I think too many girls go through this. And in fear - because the photogs have compromising photos of them etc - do not speak out. Do not report the perpetrators of the crimes. And while I did not go through an experience as bad as some of the girls I know have... It still is mentally harrowing for me. And is still hard for me to talk about. I still feel embarrassed when I think about it.
Which shouldn't be the case at all.
A LOT of girls get cheated in the hopes of becoming someone famous, or becoming a model. Tons and tons and tons of girls a year actually get snapped in compromising poses, all because they get trapped in positions they could have avoided being in in the first place. (And in some countries, they experience worse, get kidnapped, and sent into prostitution rings. So always, always, have your guard up. You can never be too careful in this industry. And sometimes, even those who seem to be your friends, other models/ agents/ bookers - have their own agenda too. From landing you jobs that you find... eventually are more escort jobs - to getting you hooked on drugs which they traffic so you are stuck. Yes. These are just some true horror stories, and I've seen victims of many sorts.)
To be fair... It can happen to anyone. And even more so now with the internet which opens up more doors for predators.
But I know these things do happen. Because it happened to me.
I could have gone through worse. And I got away relatively lucky. But it still haunts me. Perhaps it is a mental thing. Knowing that me - someone streetsmart, who had about at least 4 years of experience in the industry at that point, could still be gullible enough to be vulnerable and be taken advantage of.
Getting offered test shoots as a model is pretty normal. Lots of photographers actually want to work with you if you are good, and it works out to be mutually beneficial. They get a good test subject to try new shooting techniques and lighting with. And the models get great shoots to beef up their portfolio.
But these days, especially as we get more desensitised to highly sexualised images - I worry many more girls are being taken advantage of, even by professional and legit photographers too.
I find, even sometimes while browsing a friend's - a model now based in New York - instagram feed, that some of her pictures, while very nice, do come across as well.... questionable. They are toeing the line a little too closely. I wonder if the photographers have an entirely pure agenda.
But because she is a model... no one really says a thing. Everyone just thinks.. well.. she's a model. She wants to be a VS model. I guess it's expected of her... Right?
AND THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED TO ME.
So.. this happened back in 2002.
I was doing a shoot. A legitimate shoot for a bridal magazine. And I remember the photographer, a short, rather stout man from Taiwan, who worked at a prominent bridal studio along Tanjong Pagar.
After we had finished the shoot that day, he asked if I was keen on doing a couple of test shoots.
Like most models, I jumped at the chance to get more shots into my book.
But, on the day I was supposed to do the shoot itself. I just had a bad feeling. I'm not even sure what it was. Premonition maybe.
My bf at the time (yes, the one I used to call TLOML), and I, had just gotten into a quarrel about how I behaved at events. He felt that I was too flirty with people when we were out - though for some reason, he never realised that most of the ones that I was "flirty" with, were gay. And I on the other hand felt that I had to socialise and be friendly as part of my job, and that he was just being possessive and jealous.
TBH, I think at the time, we both we right and had our points. I could have been less friendly. He, could have been less possessive.
BUT, that quarrel.... well. In a way, was the start of the end.
That morning itself, when I had a bad feeling, I had asked him to come with me for the shoot.
Because he was still angry with me, despite the fact that he was not doing anything that day - he completely refused. Turned me down flat even when I told him that I had a weird feeling about it.
When I turned up at the shoot, there were certain things that were amiss - that at the time.. I guess I was still too wrapped up in my emotions to notice.
I had met the photographer at his place, a condominium along Club Street. And when I asked where we were shooting, if we were going over to the studio that was just a street away, he said the lighting was better upstairs at his place.
I was a bit unsettled at this. But, again. This is not that an unusual a request. And, he had taken some really, really great shots of me at the photo shoot for the magazine.
Hair and makeup? No artists present. Well... I had done shoots before with my own hair and make-up.
Where are we going to shoot? - The bedroom. The lighting was better.
Go get changed.
When I changed, he asked if I had anything else sexier.
I remember he was using a small camera. Sort of like a leica. Why was he not using the big camera? This was better. Had a grainy quality he wanted.
He took a few shots. And asked me to change again.
When I was back. He took a couple more shots. And then asked me to take off my top, very casually. Like it was no big deal.
I said no. I was not comfortable with that.
He started scolding me, telling me that I was being very unprofessional. That I was not being a good model. That people won't hire me if I was so un-cooperative.
At that time, my mind became a complete blank. I couldn't really think. Here was a photographer, that shot me days earlier at a professional shoot. I actually was scared that I was going to be blackmarked and thought of as a bad model. I'm not sure how, or why, but I started to question whether or not I was being professional. Whether or not I was being rude, or in the wrong.
Somewhere while he was yelling at me, he came at me, and ripped my top apart. Exposing my breasts. As he roughly handled them as well. I remember... feeling like a piece of meat. And having a metallic taste in my mouth.
And yelled more in Mandarin.
YOU ARE NOT ACTING PROFESSIONAL.
YOU ARE NOT BEING A GOOD MODEL.
WHO WILL HIRE YOU IF YOU ARE SO CONSERVATIVE.
Telling me that my breasts weren't good enough. They were too far apart. That I would never get hired for shoots.
I don't know if he continued shooting. What shots he got.
I only remember pulling my top together, and tears falling down my face. Asking if I could go.
Him being angry. Telling me I was a horrible model anyway. To just get out. The door was unlocked.
I don't even remember what happened then because my mind was in a daze.
All I recall, was walking.. and walking.. and suddenly I was outside a stall called Big Chicken, at what is now POMO Mall along Selegie Road.
I called my boyfriend. Told him I was coming over. Asked if he could pay for the cab as I had no cash on me. He said to wait, he would come get me, but I told him I just needed to leave then. Right at that point.
I think he sensed that something had happened.
When I got to his place... he asked me what happened. And I couldn't even bring myself to say it. I was too embarrassed. But I started blaming him. For not coming with me to the shoot like I had asked and begged.
"Why didn't you come.." I screamed at him, tears running down my face. "The one time I asked you to come... And you were here! In Singapore for once. But you didn't come..."
"Well, even if I came.. if I said anything, you might have just told me it was part of your job what."
It felt like a slap to my face, because I had not even told him what had happened. And to be honest.. till this day. My memories of everything are patchy. All I remember was grabbing my stuff hurriedly.. and wanting to get out of there fast. I don't even know how I got from Club Street to Selegie, because I know at the time, I had been broke. So I definitely did not catch a cab.
It took me a week before I could finally come to terms with what happened. And told my then bf.
Two weeks, before I spoke to one of my agents about what happened. Soo-Ann jie, from Fly - was the only one I could speak to about it. I told her everything. And she asked me what I wanted to do. She said that the company would support me if I wanted to press charges.
And it was something I do sort of regret.
I had only just finished Miss Universe barely a month before... and the media spotlight was still glaring on me and all the other contestants.. it was tough. Everything we did. Every misstep we took. Every stupid thing we said in any stupid interview. Was brought up again and again and again. Published in tabloid magazines. In the papers. Nothing we did... not for some of us anyway... was private.
I already had felt like I had been made a fool of enough. All the forums with their hateful flaming. The people with their unkind words. How stupid. Ugly. Fat. Tranny-looking we were.
To me, I wanted to just forget about it and move on. Not risk having something blow up and out of proportion. I was embarrassed because I prided myself on being street smart.. and yet, I had been conned, into a situation like that. Me. A smart cookie.
The thing is.... it wasn't over. About 3 weeks after the incident.. I got an overseas call on my phone. I still remember where I was when I got the call.
I was sitting with my then-bf at the old Marche at what used to be Heeren. And there was this lady that asked for me by my Chinese name. When I answered, she started yelling and screaming at me - for having an affair with her husband.
The Taiwanese photographer, not only outraged my modesty -- gave my number to his wife -- and made me the scapegoat for his affair. When I had ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH IT.
He probably knew that I would be scared, because I did not know if he had compromising shots of me or not. He probably just wanted to protect his mistress. And my number, was the easiest one to give.
But Crystal, (the Taiwanese photographer's wife) called me and hurled verbal abuse at me over the phone. It just sent all the memories flooding back. The fear. The confusion. The resentment. Disgust.
I told her that she had the wrong idea. If anything, that I had been a victim. It was only 3 phone calls later, because i kept hanging up on her - sick and tired of trying to explain myself - and drained from all the emotions... That she finally listened, and realised what I went through.
She apologised to me. Said she was sorry.
Said that she will try to get any photos of me back from her husband.
Till this day. I don't know if he took any photos. And I did live in fear for a while, that if he did, that some would emerge and cause a scandal. I don't even know if he had any film in his camera. Because this was somewhat the pre-digital age.
But for a few years, Crystal. The photographer's wife. Kept calling. Telling me that her husband had gotten some Singaporean woman pregnant. Laying her problems on me. How she had a son, another one on the way, and how she was still taking care of her loser husband's mother, though he was refusing to give her any money.
Each time she called, I was filled with a familiar sense of disgust. Revulsion. It made me relive the moments again.
I took the calls, because I felt guilty that I couldn't help. I hoped to God at the time, that the woman he knocked up - hadn't been someone who had been taken advantage of like myself. Though I was told, she was the sister of a bridal client. Who knows.
For those three years, each time she called, I felt betrayed by my then bf. Who at the one time I felt I needed him to protect me.... didn't.
I know I held it against him, thought it wasn't his fault.
I know that he held it against me too. Getting molested. Though it wasn't mine.
The thing is. These things DO HAPPEN.
A photographer asking a model to pull your straps down. Take your bra off.
I don't know when to tell you that it falls within the lines of the profession. Or when it does not.
A friend of mine, a top male supermodel, told me once about a big shoot he had in China for a huge men's magazine, where halfway during the shoot - he and the other male models were told to take off their clothes.
The other male model - who was then just embarking on his international career- just took everything off straight away, while my friend gasped, and asked the other guy, "Don't you have any pride? We don't have to do this. Geez. Put your pants back on."
The other male model, now, a very famous one hailing from the Republic, just shrugged. And continued.
The shoot still went on. My friend, in his swimmers, and the other guy, naked. The images - all splashed in their full glory in a magazine.
YOU DO HAVE CHOICES.
These are the things that go on behind closed doors. Behind the scenes. Behind those glamourous pictures you see touched up in all their photoshopped glory.
This is the industry, that I still feel shocked, when I see parents willingly pushing their kids to get into. Because it's not something that a child - no matter how physically developed, and how much "potential" as a supermodel she might have - should be exposed to.
When I was at a show last year, and met a pretty, but insanely skinny and tall 12-year-old, being nudged forcefully toward the gaggle of media and photographers... a very tall, thin blonde girl - who had just been put in sexy lingerie for a magazine shoot, and on the cover of that magazine...
I am not exactly the most conservative person around. I have no qualms with racy shoots. But I think there is a line that we all have to draw somewhere.
I shared this story, because I saw this article, written by another blogger on the blacklisted photographers in Singapore: http://www.thydowager.com/juicebits/2014/01/14/caution-top-15-blacklisted-photographers-in-singapore/
I spotted a few names I am familiar with as well.
I have been approached and called by Devine TWICE. Want his hp number - I still have it stored here on my phone. Just in case. He wanted to hire me as a host for a "private event, in a limo. With 8 other girls. All in underwear. To celebrate the anniversary of a lingerie brand."
It was supposed to be a private party for girls - but... no. For some reason. He and his crony, would be in the limo itself.
The girls? Supposedly clients.
The brand? Still secret. It is a high end brand. With very high end customers.
Why would they want to be in their underwear/naked in a limo together - I asked?
Are you willing to do it? It's only for 30 mins, at $5k.
- If the sum, which is about 1.5 times my pay in a month at my full-time job, is tempting even for me. What more a young girl, filled with hopes, and dreams, and plans to buy a new branded bag or handphone?
If you are a young girl and in modelling - I urge you to please, look through these photos. These names. And even if these men are not on the list..... Please, keep your guard up.
They can easily use a different name. Change their numbers. And as soon as one is clamped down, another creep seems to pop up. And some of them, just reappear even after they are exposed to the public for what they are.
GREAT protection we have here in SG as models. Where there are no unions. No lists for legit agencies. Or photographers. And anyone who owns a DSLR, can hand out a namecard and call himself one.
But take local supermodel Sheila Sim as an example. She got to where she is today, without a single racy shoot. She has not even been shot in a bikini. It is something she has simply REFUSED to do from the start of her career, till this day.
Don't think it's harmed her career one bit if you ask me. Clients who want her, just work around it.
So if a photographer tells you that you can't model if you don't do a shot like that? Hogwash!
This is only ONE STORY, out of my many strange encounters. Being approached for weird shoots while I am on the way back home. Being asked to shoot for Playboy - by really- an engineer?
I have had obscene calls on my phones. Heavy breathing. Asking me to participate in surveys, that suddenly take a weird turn. And these days I'm sure young girls are faced with much worse. They have different approaches. Starting with being a friend on Facebook. Instagram. Ask if they can shoot you. And you might feel flattered that they are asking for you to be their model. Maybe even another modelling friend recommends you, because she has shot with this photographer before.
And worse still, some of you actually PAY to get your photos taken by these so-called photographers.
Please. Please. Please. Check. Check. Check. And Verify. Are these people legit. Do they have a portfolio? Who else have they shot? What kind of shots are they? Compare those to the ones in magazines. Are they REALLY similar? Or somehow, do they have that cheap feel. Tacky makeup, and usually, are of girls in all manner of undress.
Fashion, is about clothes. Not the lack of it.
And please also be aware, that even if they are professional and legit - if you have a bad gut feeling, get out of there. Take the case of Roman Polanski, and the then 13-year-old Samantha Gailey (now Geimer). He, a famous director, had even asked her mother, a model and actress, if he could shoot her daughter, for an issue of Vogue that he was guest editing.
The girl was brutally abused and raped. Her tormentor, protected for many years.
The person. Legit. Premise. Legit. But what happened, I'm sure.. was horrible and harrowing. And it must have been torturous knowing that he was out there, and not caught.
She said one thing in her testimony, that struck a chord.
"... I realized he had other intentions and I knew I was not where I should be. I just didn't quite know how to get myself out of there."
All I am saying is..... girls and guys out there... just... be careful. Ok?
Don't make the same mistake I did, of thinking it only happens to someone else.
Sunday, June 15, 2014
Heh. Ok. I mean, getting pregnant at this point would probably be an immaculate conception.
BUT, moving swiftly on.. I read up about my pregnancy dreams since I was slightly freaked out by them. And I am rather pleased to see what was written.
To be honest, not that bad.
This was on Huffington
What can I learn about myself from dreaming about being pregnant?
"Pregnancy dreams are often multi-layered and speak about something inside -- represented by the fetus -- that has not yet been acknowledged or presented to the world," Mead says. "I find that people who have disowned goals and desires often dream of pregnancies. For example, someone who might have wanted to act, but chose the safe path of being a lawyer, may be plagued with pregnancy dreams until he or she takes steps to at least connect with that earlier passion.
This was on a couple of sites, including dreammoods
Do you believe in dreams?
Once a long time ago... maybe around.. March or April last year, I had a dream. I dreamt I had a kid. Well, I guess I was still getting used to having a kid around, because in the dream, I had left the child in the kitchen as my mom and sis were still there. I remember my friends in the house, buzzing around. One of them tsking me when she asked where my kid was, and I said.. somewhere.. My mom and sis, yelling at me from the kitchen. My sis nagging at how it was irresponsible of me leaving the kid there with them. (My argument being that I knew it would be safe there with them.)
I remember looking out of the house to a scene I've never seen before. Looking out and it was grass.. and I could actually see the sea or ocean. From the living room. I had never seen this place before.
But I recall looking down at the baby in my arms, and thinking, OMG. I. Made. This. Human. O_O
I told the dream to a friend the next day, and my friend asked, who was the father? Well, the father wasn't in the dream. At least, I don't recall. She also asked what the baby looked like at least.... and as hard as I tried to recollect, I just couldn't. My mind drew blanks.
Then a few months later.. I met this friend who showed me a piece of property he bought, pretty much in the middle of nowhere. He must have thought I was a total idiot because as soon as I saw the picture, I teared up. That was the view I saw. It was... crazy to me that I had seen it in my dream. What did it all mean?
Last night, I had a dream. I don't remember all of it. But again, it was a dream that felt so real and was so... distinct when it was happening.
Perhaps, it is because I haven't slept in a long time. I don't know. But it was a long detailed dream.
Now, I only recall bits and pieces of it. Travelling alongside my other half. Doing all sorts of really cool, interesting, dangerous things. It was... pretty amazing. And the thing is, at every turn, it actually felt like I was doing those things.
The last thing I remember, was being in a boat, or ship or kayak or canoe, honestly, I don't remember which. All I can recall, is being capsized. And feeling the strong currents pulling at me from every direction.
Being rescued... and holding on gratefully to the one that held me.
And a doctor. Telling me, "I know you enjoy all of these things. But, you need to slow down now that you are pregnant."
And... looking down at my still flat stomach at that point. With the one that I loved.. How he held me. And was filled with wonderment and awe as I was.
It was... strange.
Ask me if I remember the face of this person.. I don't. I wish I did. But I don't. I just remember feeling loved and secure as the guy wrapped his arms around me from behind, his hands settling on my belly. There were no doubts. No worries. No hesitation. Just... the comfort in knowing that he was there. He was happy. He wanted this. And he loved me. It felt like.... how I guess, a confident trust fall should be. Knowing that you are falling but you will definitely be caught by the one you love. It was..... really an amazing feeling.
And then I woke up.
Honestly. I don't know if these dreams will come to fruition.
I am used to having them come to pass, but I do know that some of my previous dreams were averted because of choices that me, or the other people in my dreams, had made.
Are they Freudian?
Self-fufilling/prophetic dreams about my future?
Or maybe, in all three pregnancy dreams that I've had.. I just had a bad stomach. Ate too much or something.
I have had some really strange deja-vu's in the past... where while it happens, it practically feels like an out of body experience because everything I had dreamt, right down to the little details, the words that come out of my mouth, what I am wearing, the surroundings.... all exactly as I have dreamt. And it makes me slightly queasy at times.
Maybe it's like Sliding Doors. That Gwenth Paltrow movie. Where alternate realities of myself in parallel universes are crossing paths.
Note to self: I must not overthink it.
Que Sera Sera.
Saturday, June 14, 2014
There was that gut feeling... that the moment had passed him by.
Yet again. Whatever will be, will be.
Que Sera Sera.
Monday, June 9, 2014
So not too long ago, someone exploded and said "I know you're insulting me!"and almost started a fight - when someone called him ang moh.
Honestly... I was a little shocked, especially at his indignant outrage. In fact, everyone was and told him to chill.
Ang Moh - while it has derogatory CONNOTATIONS....... (Connotations: an idea or feeling which a word invokes for a person in addition to its literal or primary meaning)
WAS NOT. And I repeat. IS NOT, meant to be a racial slur.
I have NO clue where some people get the idea that ang moh means a red devil or red ghost. Or something worse. No my dear friends. Stop reading whatever weird guidebook some other friend passed to you. Ang Moh, is not meant to be a slur or insult.
Ang Moh literally means RED HAIR. It's Hokkien. Ang = Red. Moh = hair. Really. It's that simple.
But, just like every other word, can take on/infer different meanings depending on the usage and delivery. (see **definitions below if you need help) Just like the sentence, "You're a dog." - cool/ugly/disgusting etc - it all depends on the usage.
More often than not, when in Asia, and Caucasians are far and few between. So the term is used more as a factual description/ identifier. Just like how we go around the world, and are called Asian. That is what we are.
An Asian could be say, a British Indian and identify himself as British. And yet people will ask him where he is REALLY from.
The thing is, if you are a Caucasian, and you say you're American, we don't ask you where you are really from. When fact of the matter is, you're probably an immigrant like the rest of us in our respective countries too. Just that in Singapore, we use the term ang moh, because truth be told, we can't always tell if you're an Italian from America, or a Swede from London. ( In fact, some of my pals don't know their own lineage either! ) Like we're lumped as Asian when we are abroad, it can be hard to tell if someone is from China, Myanmar, Thailand, Pakistan, Philippines, Malaysia etc.
In Singapore, if you've stayed long enough, you might be able to, and will possibly say something like, "Yes, my lovely Indian friend invited us over for Deepavali." Or, "That Malay man over there dropped his wallet, please pass it to him." You might be able to tell and differentiate between the races based on their names, how they dress, or even physical characteristics. Well, good on you!
And we would do the same if we would, but, like it or not, with this global economy.. it can be hard to tell based on accents or physical characteristics anymore! Take a friend of mine for instance, born and raised in Australia, to a Swedish Mom from Norway and Italian Dad from the UK.
O_O I mean....
Wait till he and his Malaysian-Chinese wife have babies.
(And sidenote: Malaysia, is a country. But Malay, is an ethnic group. A Malaysian is from Malaysia. But a Malay person, might not necessarily be from Malaysia. Just like there are Chinese people all over the world. Indonesian-Chinese. Singaporean-Chinese. American-Chinese. Parisian-Chinese.)
But before we get into a debate on Nationality, Ethnicity and Race... (which I can talk about for hours...)
Like it or not, we are who we are. I am probably "That Asian chick with blonde hair" - now. And I don't take offence to that.
Honestly, whether or not Ang Moh is used as an insult, or is derogatory, is really determined by tonality. Tone Pitch. Delivery.
Just like 'hey' can be used in a variety of ways, and have different meanings conveyed.
Can make a world of difference from someone being curt. Someone yelling at you to get out. Two friends who are excited at bumping into each other unexpectedly. And well... a little flirtation even.
In almost every part of Asia, the terms used on Caucasians, have probably mostly been coined a long time ago by people who usually were more fascinated to see someone exotic to them, with fair skin and different coloured hair.
So... Ang Moh... Can range from being neutral descriptor, to, well, yes...... an insult.
But you'd usually know if I (or anyone else for that matter) is insulting you. Depending if my tone is friendly or dripping with disdain.
I actually went around, and asked a total of 31 people - both local Singaporeans of all races, and, Caucasians... about the term "Ang Moh".
While it is the Caucasian pals who are definitely more sensitive to the term and feel it is derogatory, those who have lived here for longer, don't seem to think so as much. And almost all the Singaporeans never thought of it as a slur or an insult. Just a factual categorisation. Many put Ang Moh - in their heads, as a racial category, alongside Malay. Chinese. Indian.
Sounds much better than the previously used official government term "Others" - don't you think?
Of all the Singaporeans I spoke to. Slurs and derogatory and insults, were deemed to be things like: Slitty eyes. Chink. Darkie. White trash. Bai-yii. Mengali. Frogs.
Offensive terms because they poke fun at certain traits, stereotypes or characteristics. They are in essence, coined with mean-spirited attitudes. Not factual fascination.
So, the next time, if someone in your neighbourhood smiles and refers to you affectionately as ang moh - wear the term like a badge of honour.
Just like... MFAM - My Favourite Ang Moh (you know who you are)
Or like a friend of mine, who stayed with me for a while, did, and should.
When the hawkers around my house went, "Eh, your that ang moh friend never come with you ah?" - I knew that my pal had been accepted as one of them. Someone they had started to look forward to seeing on a daily basis.
Stamped. Guaranteed. Chopped. Approved. Accepted.
Here's what most of us Asians, constantly have to put up with when we're on the other side of the world. (Heck, I still get some of these even here in my own backyard! Even the classic line at 0:17)
And FYI. According to Wikipedia:
Sunday, June 8, 2014
So... a occasionally wise person once told me that this was a mickey mouse site.
I've never really pretended to make this out to something that it wasn't. It was/is a blog. Which, if original definitions still apply pretty much is an online journal.
The only thing is, I guess, blogs have changed over the years and evolved into something else. And to lots of people in SEA - and SG especially, they seem to be a money making endeavour.
I'm not sure if that is the direction I want to take. In fact, I am not sure about the direction I want to take at all.
Just that I know for sure, that I would much rather NOT have people reading stuff I am writing say about, hair products I've used, reviews of places I've gone, photos of places I've been and seen, alongside my private thoughts.
Which is rather ironic.
I actually, already have 5 blogs. If I recall correctly. Including this one. And most that others don't know about.
Some of them, helped me through breakups. Some of them, are strictly for writing. Some for venting.
That doesn't even include physical journals. Where I do pen my thoughts as well.
Maybe I just have a lot to say.
I did finally make the jump. I finally bought my own dot.com yesterday!!!
So now, when I'm not at work. Or busy doing work. Or instagramming. Or tweeting. I am busy looking through wordpress themes.
And I am confused.
There are so many out there. And God this is tiring.
I don't know what I want exactly. And something where content is easily ported - for eg - if the site changes. If the template upgrades. If I need changes done.. I want something that works with that easily.
For now, from the little research I've done, I think I need something that is multi-page.
I mean... I talk about a lot of things. Food. Travel. Fashion. Life.
I would like one, that for posts, also have the gallery option. Sometimes, I have really nice photos and it's hard to put all of them up on FB. (Though, possible.) But those are private as well. And I'm not sure about setting up a "Fanpage". I mean.... who am I to have a fanpage. O_O
E-commerce might not be my main thing but the option would be nice... maybe? More because well, I do have A LOT of clothes. A LOT. And a lot of times, I have tons of stuff that I buy and I don't even land up wearing. Or sometimes, wear just once.
I was thinking it might be cool to sell those things, and use that money for charity as well. Or for the causes I support as well.
Something optimized for mobile. (Both uploads, as well as for readers) - would be nice.
Something that can also either include widgets for social media. Or can highlight social media, would be nice too.
The thing is, a lot of sites look more or less the same. Lots of girls do the whole fashion blog type thing. Which to me... well. First of all, I am not vain enough to take photos of myself all the time. And I doubt photos of me are going to cultivate a cult following. And to me, having 6 pictures of myself in ONE post. On one outfit. Geez that's a lot of me love isn't it?
Let's not forget. I am also just a chick without the help of a selfie stick. (Beautographer definitely not included.)
Something that could highlight videos? Hmm.. I don't know if I need it. But.. who knows.
I don't know about putting my personal blog stuff up there. The way I have here. Where is it slightly more curated and less "stream of consciousness" type rants, but.. at the same time.. still immensely private.
But, what is the likelihood that I'll be able to maintain all of these different sites as well?
Honestly. I don't know. I just know that I should have a site that possibly. Is more professional than what I currently have.
Yup. That is all.
Oh. And if any of you have any advice on wordpress themes etc... HELPS PLEASE... (or advice would be much appreciated)
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
I'm not so sure why this suddenly came to mind. But there was once upon a time I wrote this on my old blog...
It must have... been something people related to I guess, because it later got printed on the cover of notebooks (corporate gifts) for Moblogs somewhere in 2005?!
Kinda was a nice surprise. Like if a limerick you wrote ended up in a Hallmark card.
"Where are you, my Prince?
I have loved you all my life
and I always will
Now, all you have to do, is find me."
Tuesday, June 3, 2014
A long time ago.. I met someone that I thought.. was amazing.
When things were really good, I thought that we made an invincible team. Seriously. So, when a friend did a astrological sign compatibility of the two of us... I pooh poohed it away. We were communicating 247 practically.. and it honestly felt at the time, like... the best thing in the world.
I trusted him... and loved him... completely. The first time I ever have... in years.
I never have believed in fortune telling - which has said I will be rich, have kids. Though I will have a tough time in my earlier years.
Astrology - which has said this would be the start of 12 extremely good years for me, especially where career and love was concerned.
Numerology - which has counted that I will have a lot of very influential friends in high places, and at the end of my days, I will own a lot of property.
Zodiac signs - which have said that I will be with my destined, this year.
I believe in God. So... I guess, I take stuff like that with a pinch of salt.
But perhaps... I should have paid heed to my friend, who sent me this... because uncannily enough. It is only in hindsight, that strangely... much of it seems true.