jacquetta

Dearest,

For a long time I thought that my destination was the UK. I have to go to Britain to find myself, because I was so lost, so afraid and so hopeless in my life.

But then I've realised that there is only one destination---LIFE. Every moment of it merits our unswerving devotion, and every company we keep, transient or permanent, deserves our full emotions. 

Where is yourself? It's in your life. 

No matter how big this world is, how far we can and dare to travel, I would rather be your partner, than go our separate ways.

Yours always,

Jacky White :)

I. About "Yourself"

F: "Just be yourself" (even) when you're in love.

A: Don't you ever think about that. The moment you fall, your "self" matters not.

B: Well, if you're not yourself, I won't be loving you anyway.

II. About "How Long"

A: Do you know how long you can love a person?

B: Do you know how long you can live?

If there is one thing that still quite bothers me about Mr. Beckham, it is his choice of a lifetime partner. I bet that had there been a Wife wanted advertisement for a "Mrs. Beckham", it would have given the UK press a notch above all others, and put the British gambling industry into a frenzy.

Not that I have no faith in the love between popular sportsmen and pop stars. Dissent does not make for despise. What is really perplexing about the first lady of WAG is her smilelessly "glamourous" life under the camera. After all, what do you have to groan over fitting in a Roland Mouret or Marc Jacobs sheath, carrying a Hermés Kelly, and teetering around in a pair of tapered heels by Giambattista Valli?

Is it because of the pumped and deflated breasts that lift their "stubborn and coquettish" structure above the barely-there waist-"an eyesore among eyesores"? Or does it have something to do with the precarious stiletto that would have caused chronic suicide in each and every woman except a svelte femme fatale?

Today, if the physically-declining Beckham has anything left to sell on yet another buzzy Asian tour, this time with a team whose name isn't identified in some news reports, it must be his mega-watt smile. And that very time-honoured smile has always kept me wondering why his other half seemingly has no inclination for making it a family business.

By the way, talking about the jeopardies of shoes, I only collect heels and save them for all but a few formal and short-lived occassions. For everyday adventure, I mostly sneak around in:

• a pair of Dr. Martins flat bottines
• 2 pairs of ballerinas, one banana-shaped elastic Nine West in black and one brown suede pair with velvet floral applicés
• a pair of strappy slippers that have kept my company for more than five years. A friend in need is a friend indeed.

I often find myself shying away from answering well-intentioned questions like ," why do you want to leave for the UK?". But I bet I've found a neat answer from a comment by Mr. Scott Schuman (posted in his Drop Dead Gorgeous blog The Sartorialist, which you can have access to through gotfiles.org, if you're using a server in China) Here it goes:

"To move to a city where you are not afraid to try something new because all the people that labeled who THEY think you are (parents, childhood friends) are not their to say " that's not you" or "you've changed". Well, maybe that person didn't change but finally became who they really are...

"I bet if you ask most people what keeps them from being who they really want to be (at least stylistically or maybe even more), the answer would not be money but the fear of peer pressure - fear of embarrassing themselves in front of a group of people that they might not actually even like anyway."

Well I guess this is quite close to my idea of moving to a country where nobody knows you but everybody (well, almost) knows what you love (Ryan, those Davids, Pauls, Waynes, and perhaps one or two Michaels), even at the expense of parting with my beloved ones.

Guess what? The more often you post here, the more I love you...

There are good reasons to use "WISH" in preference to "HOPE", for fancy being the one thing, and uncertainty being the other. And there is every reason to list exactly 11 items here, for there are too many coincidences in my life so far regarding this number. Lucky or not, let's say "Good Luck".

11. Completion of a Drop Dead Gorgeous thesis, to bid farewell to my most proudly independent 2004-2008 at SYSU.

10. A copy of "un documentaire de Loïc Prigent" entitled Marc Jacobs & Louis Vuitton,  now available at Collette ( $41, at Colette, 213, rue Saint-Honoré Paris, colette.fr)

9. Fashion Week ticket(s), as many as possible, to be sure.  Would I be demanding too much if I made the following specifications: Haute Couture S/S2008, Paris: January 21-24 2008 (Mark your calendar!)

8. A pair of vintage sunglasses to hide my dark circles under the (hopefully innocent and wry) eyes.

7. Dior's Oui ring in yellow gold (₤340). Victoire de Castellane must be a genius in jewelry design. (Sorry, no announcement on any engagement, or anywhere near that)

6. An even shorter hairstyle to combat mental messiness.

5. The first pair of MiuMiu shoes. Hasn't this become a perennial aspiration after the Marc by MJ wellies, which, haven't yet seen the light of day?

4. The most sought-after plain gray coat- dress from Prada that has a belt cupping the rear and a strategically placed bow. I do need a schoolgirl coat to keep out the chill so let's just aim the highest.

3. Excellence at the piano to make a living, for practical reasons.

2. Many thousands of sterlings, seriously.

1. A closer look at Ryan Giggs, that's it!

Did I say "Merry Christmas", "Happy New Year" and "I love you" to mum and dad, family and friends? No? Just remind me~~~ Meow

In terms of psychology, which of the following mentalities is the most scary?

A. Can't say no to a job that has yet to pay, simply believing that you should be grateful to anyone that offers.

B. Wait for a result to come out when you've finished all your parts. Since it's not a medical test, there is no doctor to your rescue should the result fail you. Having done everything + yet not getting anything = depressing.

C. Realize that even the edgiest would be blunt in time, be it a design or a girl or anything.

How would you maintain a decent relationship with your BFF (best friend(s) forever) when you have little interest in regular get-together?

A. Use SMS to assert your companionship

B. Convince them of the romance of unexpected encounters

C. And expect the next one on an escalator, when you're travelling in opposite directions.

The other day when I was single-pixieing in the wood-like campus, a serious question struck me: Why fashion? What's behind the schizophrenia of wearing one set and living with another that has never crawled into my dreams but has always been in the air? Is there anything deep in my phyche that keeps responding to fashion in an intoxicated and often uncontrollable way?

The answer is loneliness, and fashion kills that, stone-dead. The wind of trends blows it off, the line-up of models stamps it out, and the brilliance of creative directors lights up the sulky and sullen mood that broods solitude.

My theory is that a love for fashion presupposes a state of loneliness, and here is the logics I deducted from Paris Fashion Week.

Nobody sends me or encourages me to buy flowers every single day so I need Balenciaga's hydrangeas, pansies, peonies, daffodils, and anemones to capture the radiant bloom of florals. Plus, the extreme silhouette, with round shoulders (sometimes blossom into bouquets) and bell-shaped hips, renders the short ensembles a modern edge to take Paris most avant-garde house into the 30th century.

If our planet did have that longevity, kudos must go to the greenest designer of all, Stella McCartney, whose botanic garden produces some of the season's most covetable paiterly prints of wildflowers. Animal rights aside (she never uses animal skin in her signature line), what I identify with her collection is the projected image of a young woman. She's both sophisticated and playful, or "delicate and rough", just the kind of attitude that I believe is worth adopting at this age. Sadly enough, few would abandon the instant up-grade of stiff pantsuits in favour of a smoother transition of womanhood that I've been experimenting with, more often than not, in solo.

In more literal terms, the word solo means that I'm the unaccompanied pianist since I hit adolescence. Now that no one has ever offered to jam, I crave for Victor & Rolf's violins, either as intarsia decoration or necklace, so that I can envision myself playing Bach's Inventions et Sinfonias to more theatrical effects.

Or consider this. As you isolate a poor geek by nicknaming her goddness (when she really is ANYTHING BUT), isn't it reasonable that she seeks company in Lanvin's most accomplished goddess dresses? This season they come in sobering navy or khaki for day and eye-catching magenta, teal, red, coral, purple for night. The collection reaches the pinnacle of draping and captures the essence of "chic Parisien" or "bon chic bon genre".

Finally there is the never-withering debate over how to seduce a footballer. Much as you champion the idea, you still choose to leave me alone. That's why I need a pair of MiuMiu shoes so that I can stomp the fear of failure. Or I'm in want of that dangerously short skirt to reveal the much needed "sly, fetishistic sexuality".

Next time you find my obsession incomprehensible, try to reason it out this way: maybe a gamin just need MiuMiu's fitted blouses in metallic lamés or tiers of ruffles to keep out loneliness.

If you were uncomfortable with Prada's decadent fairies, you can don Giles Deacon's débudant dresses to defend the "super romantic" value of an ethereal fashion fairy tale. The odds are, after only but a few full-on occations, you start to think about stripping them down to become a Marc Jacobs girl. As it's delightful to spin a fairy tale, so it is to tear the story apart.

Giles's fairies emerge in London's punky fashion scene in duchesse satin poufy gowns, multi-layered tulle petticoats, dresses embellished with scraps of chiffon and appliqués of scissored fabrics that form a gental cascade of dry-leaves. The collection preserves a precious feeling of couture that is both exquisite and elegiac.

While Giles's polished romanticism acted as a confectionary antidote to the saucy edge of London fashion week, Marc jacobs continue to push the boundaries in New York, rendering a much needed edginess to a city that was drowned in a sea of saccharine and socialite-friendly frocks.

Marc Jacobs sliced evening dresses to reveal the satin under-things, or suspended them over nude linings. Georgette slipdresses featured trompe-l'oeil underwear while cashmere sweaters were inset with sheer panels at the waist. Both sexual and sensual, the collection is provocative for eyes and provoking for thoughts. The surrealist concept of getting both dressed and undressed may sound a bit fantastic, leave it to Marc to work wonders, those unfinished tassels never hurt.

The most interesting thing about these fairy designs is that they transcend the conflicts between figure-hugging and baby-doll incarnations that have given birth to so many  inconsistent collections in fashion. They are neither grown-up nor naïf, but modern and of the moment. Though Victoria's vanity fair favours the rich and the powerful, fashion's fantasy fair kisses the bold and the liberal, an idea that we all embrace in life, and that some of us like to express through the grand undertaking of dressing in everyday life.

I feel sorry that my posts here couldn't keep pace with Mrs. Beckham's vanity fair of style diversification. I certainly identify with Her WAG Highness's fashion-fuss attitudes, though she often destroys a great design before I can tell you how ground-breaking, breathe-taking and buzz-generating it was when it first graced the runway during fashion week.

Ready-to-Wear may have found one of its most loyal customer in the footballer's wife, since the minute those gorgeous looks fly off the catwalk, they end up in her paparazzi snaps. The speed of delivery is admirable, but her quick materialisation from runway to reality may not be in sync with the fast-moving world, for which the only thing that counts, according to Miuccia Prada, is "Fantasy", rather than vanity.  

Hardly had we bid farewell to nature's Summer 2007 than fashion moved forward to Spring/Summer 2008 in its four captical cities, a perennial proof that the entire trend-formation event is little but a fantasy fair. Taking inspiration from this fairyland, trend setters circumvented the siren/waif debate by offering clothes that could make your entrance in a wonderland, if you were lucky to find one.

At Prada, wood-nimph illustrations were printed on airy chiffon and organza, with the curvilinear pipings in contrasting hues tracing the necklines. Those errotic cutouts, the best one featuring a leaning heart-shape, also informed beautifully-patterned gingham dresses and flared trousers. Together with the two-tone checks, they are subject to another mass movement of Prada immitations come next season, as is fashion's own way of paying homage to its intellectual mistress.

Overall, Prada's ethereal creatures lived in a dark romance. Or rather,  her earthy followers lived a tortured dream. The collection captured the spirit of a jolie laide living in a troubled fantasy. 

After all, fashion is a notorious fairy land, whose residents are perpectually criticised as being frivolous and anti-intellectual. At the end of the day, those enchanting tulip-sculptured heels could gain little recognition by modern-day princes like Beckhams, even though they would survive Cinderella's midnight spell within the short in-style on-trend period. The fashion-clad pixies could only recognise themselves in the otherworldly mermaids haunting their favourite Prada dresses, as they continue to find their fantastic neverland season after season.

When I was washing dishes, almost lost in the thought of fashion week...

Mum: I think you prefer fashion to men.

Me: Er... I prefer men to women.

Mum: Yeah, except me

Me: Er... those playing football are MALE.

Mum: Yeah, it's called Giggs.

Me: Er... they're called footballers

On my lip: He's just got married...

Touring Europe

Why would we prefer September to August for a trip to Europe?

A. Because the first stocks of Autumn/Winter offerings have just hit stores.

B. Because the football season has JUST kicked off.

C. Because FASHION WEEK takes place in September every year!

Failing to keep track

What is the compensation for missing fashion week ?

A. A job that pays literally nothing

B. A good sleep

C. A Manchester United Victory

Sighting  a pal in MJ style

What if a friend of yours, suddenly shows up like a pixie coming down from Marc Jacob's S/S 2007 runway (in willowy white blouse and puffy metallic trousers with ribbon accenting the waist)?

A. interrogate until she shall confess that she did see the show and take cue.

B. exchange outfits with her ON THE SPOT

C. regret to tell her that you look so LAST SEASON :)

What will you do at a shoe exhibition?

A) Keep your eyes and mouth open

B) Seduce the curator to let you model the shoes

C) Grab the uniform of the shipping company so that you stand a chance of stealing after the event

• 意大利“行走的艺术”国际鞋展
• 展览时间:2007年8月25日至2007年9月26日
• 地点：广州美术学院美术馆
• 地址：广州市珠海区昌岗东路257号
• 门票：10元
• 展览分为三个部分：
  * 历史
  * 意大利手工艺品
  * 奢华时尚
• 主办方： Camera di Commercio Italia in Cina 中国意大利商会
• 合作方： Consolato Generale d’Italia Canton 意大利驻广州总领事馆
              COLOSSEUM 文化协会 - 罗马
• 协办方：意大利对外贸易委员会
• 捐赠方：意大利驻广州总领事馆、COLOSSEUM、意大利对外贸易委员会、 
  ROSSIMODA、 ARDITI、 FINNAIR、 PROMOEST、 SHANGRI-LA HOTEL XING网全球200万商务人士俱乐部

I certainly don't mind going there every single day. Are you taking cue and dropping me an invitation?

The psychopathic symptom may sound scary. Not a bit when it only appears in quirky choices of clothes, I suppose, doesn't it? For practical reasons, skirts destined for a  girl's wardrobe can pass off as a mini, or in my case, a quasi-mini, without digging too deep into the purse. My secret to counterbalance girlie-ness lies in the men's wardrobe. Oxfords (the shoes not the uni, OK?) are in style come autumn but my mind is on a man's blazer. Authentically boyish striped shirts are real bargains when you are hunting through children's wear racks.

Retailers assume that the older we get, the more tolerant we'll become towards overpricing. If that comes with truly grown-up details, like pleating, beading and draping, they're justified. But how many times have we seen XXXL baby-dolls labeled as  "high-waisted ", smocks as "tunics", and mary-janes as "platform, straped, round-toe and chunky heels (Mary-Jane)"? Isn't it sad if people were blind to designs and only cared about trendy labels? Now that we've seen through the trick, could we convince ourselves to shop with pedophilia?

Marc Jacobs has been accused of pedophilia in many an advertisement for his eponymous line. Apparently Marc doesn't need ads to sell his women's wear, worn on smileless child models.

My point is that perhaps we too, do not need to be so troubled by the paradox of age-appropriate dressing. I have certainly got used to being mistaken as a high-school hair-dyed truant. If I have created a misleading image for strangers, maybe they aren't misled at all, about the way I really am.

I was, am and will somehow continue to be a geek. If I had ever looked like a child, that's because I somewhat buy the idea of innocent sensuality. Knowing that there is only blurring boundary between adolescence and adulthood is a healthy sign of growing up.

Adulthood, the way I see it, is something about being at ease with yourself, knowing who you are, what you want and having the courage and confidence to defend it.

Revealing the hemline of an XL girly skirt under an XS man's blazer is how I put together a 20 something eccentric. Mom wouldn't say nay, because like myself, she loves me the way I am.

"Originality, individuality and good styling. It's about confidence and something that's not fashion uniform." ---Caryn Franklin

7:00 am: Special thanks to Ryan, who invited me to the training session and went to the trouble of meeting me at the metro station. By the way, your impromptu scarf made turban is the most stylish MU souvenir I've ever seen.

9:45 am: Here comes the real turban-less Ryan, reportedly leading the team out of the tunnel. I didn't catch sight of anyone except Ronaldo. for I was busy adjusting the camera. Deciding that I wouldn't make such a stupid move again, I relied on Ryan's (with turban) Handicam to record exactly who is doing what for the whole day.

10:15 am: Rio led the squad into the dressing room again, looking really angry and awesome. If smile is women's greatest accessory, maybe a tough and smileless face adds just the same charm to a man.

10:45 am: Ryan (with turban) decided that we move to another side of the stadium to video-tape the training session. The following things would make me the envy of any of you, I'm sure.

What with silver bracelets and earrings, what with naturally curled hair, Ronaldo looks every bit as trim and dazzling as he's supposed to be. And he is a lot stronger, darker and bigger than the TV has shown. The beauty of Christiano was that he kept running around the pitch instead of joining the squad for most of the time, for fear that he would miss anyone's shot or scream. Good job, Chris!

Sir once remarked that Ryan makes you believe there's a football God, and there he IS. He runs très über fast, and his balance is extremely rare, even in this squad. It's amazing to watch Ryan running zigzag (translating into breaking through in a real match), leaving all the posts untouched, unlike the rest of them, who swung as frequently as the posts. That unique combination of speed, grace and experience shines, and spells Ryan Giggs in a nameless shirt.

The only difference I could spot between this Ryan and that Ryan (2 years ago) is that between a stubbly man and a clean-shaven one. He is as far away and as eyecatching as he always is. And so long as he got that serious frown on, he's eye candy by me.

Wayne is more than a spoiled genius. He's one of the most industrious players. For those who still question about his aptitude of being a born striker, here's some relief: he does extra training with Alan and Michael (Carrick) for shooting from different angles. Bonne chance, Wayne!

Owen doesn't look familiar to me, for I didn't watch Bundes Lega at all. Never mind, it's the nicest thing to have your first viewing of a newcomer in person. And he IS recovering from injury, because he only does some recovery training. It's like squat deeply enough to touch the ground with your fingertip, step and repeat.

It's a bit strange that people enjoy shouting Owen all the time. Hargreaves is hard to pronounce. I can't help wondering if I was among the first out there to know his first name. Some six years ago a friend told me there's a junior Owen coming to the England team.

11:15 The team was split into three squads (Yellow, Red and Blue) for antagonistic training. After seeing Ryan changing outfits (half NUDE!), Ryan (with turban) decided to move back to the tunnel side for the signature moment.

11:45 End of Training. Start of Signing! I only managed to hand my Giggs the Biography to a lovely guy, hoping that he would get Ryan's signature for me. But to everyone's surprise, Rio signed on that very cover featuring a squatting Ryan. What's on your mind, man? Are you doing a favour for Ryan? Merci beaucoup!

Rio's the kindest guy, staying longest at our side and signing for OH SO LONG. And since then, I've got the most beautiful cover of all books: A serious-looking Giggs with a scribbling yet discerning Ferdinand.

Hindsight: I never regret failing to get Ryan's signature or shooting poor pics. It's not his core competence to be seen in the public and do signatures. Neither is it mine to sun bathe and scream for one. We have work to do and at the end of the day, family to attend to. It's when I think of these common grounds that I feel geared up. And Ryan makes me believe that there is life for football, and football for life.

...But Giggsy, reaching the end of his illustrious football career, is now happily settled with interior designer Stacey Cooke, mum to his two children Liberty, four, and Zach, one.

...But, rarely pictured in public together, the pair are said to be blissfully happy.

Ryan gives much of his time and support to Hope Hospital in Salford, where his daughter was born seven weeks prematurely in April 2003.

And he admits being a dad has changed him for the better - and made him come to terms with a future that will one day not include playing football.

A key member of the Premiership champions squad, Giggs has a Hollywood lifestyle and the pressures that go with it, but he admits there is nothing better than coming home from work, opening the front door of his gigantic home in Worsley, Manchester, and being greeted by his young family.

He said: "I love fatherhood and everything that goes with it.

"I have Liberty and Zach now and I'm probably the most content with life as I have ever been and having a family plays a very important part in that.

"Fatherhood is a great leveller. The kids don't really know what I do for a living.

"They only know me as dad, and it doesn't matter what you have done that day or afternoon, I'm just dad to them.

"The whole life issue does put matters into perspective, it's great to come home to that family type of atmosphere. There is no better feeling than watching your kids grow up, going through different ages, phases and emotions. It's just one of those things that the more you put in, the more you get out."