Mapless Escapades in the Orient

After having an Indie time with my father walking around Dempsey Hill (where I found yet another Jones the Grocer!), I decided to hit the shops.

 Yumiest red bean bun ever.

Here is a piece of knowledge for you, lads.  The communist art thing is totes Indie.  If you use it to sell something, you will look cultured in world affairs and, hence, look like a good, trustworthy guy.  Also, you must know something about propaganda and art and, therefore, you must be edgy.  Therefore, the buyer can only feel some sort of respect and awe and affection for you and the desire to become your best bud and buying your product would be the first step.  Remember, you're not selling a product, you're selling yourself.

I walked all through Dempsey Hill, avoiding some Australians, and came out near Gleneagles Hospital and the Botanic Gardens.  I walked into the Botanic Gardens but this was the gate on the absolute opposite side from the MRT station, so I walked over to the Gleneagles bus stop.  And I caught a bus going to Bras Basah because my mum said I should check out a shop called Cat Socrates.  Anyway, I actually got off the bus at Plaza Singapura because I figured there might be a bathroom there.  And then I went to a shop but as usual, couldn't be bothered to buy anything.

Then I caught the MRT from Dhoby Gaut Station to Bras Basah Station.  And then this is where the plot thickens.  I got out, read the map.  Felt sure.  Then as soon as I stepped away, I totally forgot all the streets I was meant to walk on.  Or maybe I forgot to also check when to turn left/right.  Then I got absolutely thrown off because I was standing outside the art gallery and couldn't decide whether to go in or not.  I didn't.  Shame.  But anyway, then I was pretty much going to have a breakdown because I was walking this massive loop to find this Bras Basah Complex.  I even passed City Hall Station.  And I almost did a whole lap back to the station.  But then I found where I was going to.  And it was kind of hot and sunny that day.  

So I went to this shop and it was pretty cool.  The temperature was good.  Pretty much, it was a kitsch shop.  I really should have bought this Japanese shirt dress there.  Damn.  And they actually had live cats in the shop!!

Then I was walking around this arty district, being cool and not buying anything because yeah.  I found this Liang Seah Street and sat down at this Chinese desserts shop.  I must go back!  I ate this mango sago with pomelo and small bits of ice.

I was a big fan of this place because it was totes authentic, well priced, but also modern.  The combination of those things makes it almost not even of this time.  Like it's from a better future or something.  And it was actually a very decent sized serve.  I was sitting on a wooden stool at a wooden table...Oh yeah, and then there were these two French blokes talking at the next table, or maybe they weren't French, but they were speaking French, anyway.

Then I really proved to myself that I'm cool.  I navigated myself down to Haji Lane / Kampong Glam.   Yeah, man.   I just knew.  I wanted to take a look in this antiques shop on Jalan Sultan.  I didn't buy anything.   And then I went to this shop called Doinky Doodles where they have all these handmade children's things, and art about children who died.  I was ooming and ahhhing about buying this vintage dress.  But then didn't buy it but totally should have because it was a bargain.

Then I caught the MRT probably from Bugis to Dhoby Gaut.  But then I couldn't find a bus to take me where I wanted to go.  Actually I couldn't find any buses going back through Orchard Road, so I started walking towards the city lights.  I got to the mall Orchard Central, which I remember thinking was really cool when it was younger.  It still was.  In fact, there was this Indie shop I remembered I had to visit and was there.  So anyway,  it was kind of an Indie mall because they were obviously striving for that vibe.  The stuff was expensive, though, though what does one expect?, and a lot of the shops were the same as the ones in the youth mall I forgot the name of.  Anyway, there was this shop which was by women for women.  It was so weird.  It sold a few fashion pieces, some hair straighteners, one type of sanitary pad, one model of Vivienne Westwood for Melissa shoes, and some other stuff.  I had never encountered such an alternative shop, especially in a shopping mall.  I was trying to get out of Orchard Central and I really wanted to take these massive escalators on the outside of the building.  Unfortunately, you cannot descend on them, you've got to go through the building.

By this time, my legs were about to collapse.  But I had to drag myself to the bus stop behind 313@Somerset, at the skate park.  I stood there staring at the people in the skatepark.  I caught a bus going all the way to where I wanted to go.  And then I was sitting on the bus which was stationary because it was at these traffic lights, and I realised I should stare at people a bit less.  Because then it would stop the stupidity of accidentally having eye contact with strangers, especially when they are walking past a bus you are sitting on.  That is tip number two for today.

Public Transport Entrails: Part II

On Wednesday, I caught a bus with my aunt to Commonwealth then caught the MRT to Bugis to have lunch.

The place I ate at was the sectioned off part of the food court where there were five or so ramen stalls and after eating, you can vote for the best ramen shop.  I didn't vote because what kind of vote for the best ramen place would it be if I had only tried one?

Another food court stall:

After that, I was walking around Bugis Junction and the iluma mall.  I thought about buying some things, but I didn't.  Then I went outside and spotted the Victoria Street markets.  I didn't buy anything. I saw these massive durians:

Then I realised I was maybe near the arts precinct.  So I hiked over to Nanyang Academy of Fine Arts,   which took a while because I didn't really know where I was headed.  The traffic lights in this area were so slow, too!  But there weren't any galleries open there.  Then I was trying to get out of the area, and I was walking all over these weird streets.  I took some photos, but they don't at all show how I was walking every street in the district 50 times.

Then I headed over to the Lasalle College of The Arts.  There was a lot of glass and a lot of glass installations and some students who were maybe doing a holiday program were queuing up for a meal.  It looked like this.

I was hoping that I would end up at Bras Basah station so that I could catch an MRT to Chinatown to get to Ann Siang Hill.  But I didn't find it.  And it was getting late, I was running late.  I was waiting at a bus stop but no bus I wanted was turning up.  Somehow I managed to hike back in the rain to Bugis Station, which was really hard, seeing as I couldn't see the buildings where it was.

And I was rushing rushing rushing.  And caught the MRT to Holland Village.  Running in the rain to the bus stop there.  Now is the place where I pause to rant about the litter I am finding these days in Singapore.  Can you believe that?  Everywhere I go, I am finding cigarette butts all over the ground, empty cigarette packets all over the ground, today my foot got stuck in an empty drink container and a man on the bus was peeling the top of this gourd or whatever and throwing it on the flour, and back to Wednesday, I was sitting on a seat on the bus and there was a mandarin peel stuffed in the crack between the seat and the wall.  What is this, Canberra?!  And the most frightening thing of all was when I was running up to the bus stop at Holland Village in the rain.  Now, this path was only about a metre wide and practically was in the shops, seeing as awning hung over it and some shops put wares on the other side of the path.  And what did I run past on the edge of the tiled footpath?  A used sanitary pad!  What is this, I ask you.  What is this?!  WHAT IS THIS?!

Public Transport Entrails: Part I

So, Tuesday.  I set off at eleven in the morning.  A friend in Canberra told me that at the shops in Tampines and Pasir Ris one can buy shoes for $2.  When I got to the bus stop, oh no, no bus going out there.  So I got on a bus anyway, and after some time, it stopped on Farrer Road where there was an MRT station and I got on the Circle Line, which was a stupid loop to take, then changed again at Paya Lebar Interchange, then the MRT turned into a train on an above-ground track.  Now, this was a very long journey, I was peeved off and freeing to death because of the air-conditioning.  And super thirsty, but too afraid to drink my water because there was a sign saying $500 fine for eating or drinking on trains or in stations.

View from bridge crossing from bus stop to Farrer Road MRT station

But anyway, I got to Tampines.  And there were three shopping malls next to each other.  Ayiah, all worse than Woden Plaza.  No bargains!  Unless you are searching for a padded jacket!

Jumped back on train to try my luck at next and final stop on the line, Pasir Ris.  No luck.  And no lunch because I was not in the mood for eating in the mall because that would be too trendy.  But I did eat an egg-tart.

Back on the train.  Because it was above ground, I've had two bird's eye views of the East Coast!

My plan was to spend the remainder of my day at Ann Siang Hill.  I would have to change at City Hall Interchange.  But when I got there, I thought "Why not go to the Peranakan Museum while I'm here?"  But I didn't see any locality maps and all I knew was that the museum was on Armenian Street.  Hmmm, good planning Billie.  But then I spotted Funan Centre DigitaLife Mall.  And got my keyboard cover there.  Here is a photo of the packet:

So now that I know I'm attractive, I might actually be super attractive, because I can only be more attractive than I know.

Then I saw a building which looked like a museum.  So I crossed a big road.  Turned out it was the museum for the history of the postal service in Singapore.  I didn't want to go there but thought I might be able to get a guide paper to another museum.  But then I saw another building which looked like a museum.  So I headed off down the road.  It wasn't a museum, I don't think, but there was a bus map outside with attractions on it.  I realised I had walked the wrong direction down the road, so I headed off back again.

I passed the Armenian Church, but didn't go inside and so I don't know what is the significance of it.

I turned onto a small street which happened to be Armenian Street, leading to the museum.  Actually, I had walked on this street last year!  I spent some time in this camera shop, where they didn't offer me a cup of tea, and a cup of tea was offered on this sheet I picked up from them.  Some cameras were only thirty-odd dollars, but then, of course, one must buy film and also pay to have the pictures developed!  The downside to analogue photography, which they kept promoting, it that one cannot easily upload pictures to their blog!  I got this piece of paper from them which has this written on it "Reminisce the days where film was the gold standard in photography and everyone had a Polaroid camera of two!"

I got to the museum at last, but then saw some hip people.  In fact, they were filming some bloke breakdancing in the alley.  Should have taken a photo!

There were some old fashioned shops, so I went in this bookshop which had all these intellectual books about Asia!  I bought a book called 'Narratives in Malaysian Art Volume 1: Imagining Identities', edited by Nur Hanim Khairauddin and Beverly Yong, with T.K. Sabapathy.  It "brings together a collection of essays which highlights the way in which art has provided artists with the means of imagining themselves, and imagining our nations...discuss art developments in relation to changing expressions and experiences in Malaysian social and cultural life from after the Second World War to contemporary time, while 140 illustrations create a parallel visual narrative."

I've decided it's time I got a bit more a) intellectual about things, and b) into art because it's Indie and cool and intellectual and I am possibly maybe going to be interested if I try.  Also, if I don't get into stuff, I'm going to get bored of myself on another level, like when I'm giving an oral presentation and I get bored of my own speech because I'm really not interested in hearing what I have to say.

At the Peranankan museum (yes, I eventually got there), I acquired a new passion.  It is for beaded things.   

Tablecloth made entirely from beads!

Those pouches look so much better than these trendy silicon ones I saw the other day which were ripping and were still in the shop.

As you can see from the caption, this is a striped kebaya with antelopes.  I really dig the antelopes on the stripes.  It's an eclectic mix of moods.  If I owned that top, I would wear it everyday!

There was a large section about the play Emily of Emerald Hill which they make out to be the Singapore's sole highlight of arts culture.  Visitors were invited to dress in the clothes above and film themselves speaking lines from the play.  Then, you can judge the best one.

This piece of artwork below is a bit blurry, so is the information tag.  Oh well.  I think it was about religion in Peranakan culture...anyway, it's a bit Christian and a bit psychedelic, so I think that's more than a bit Indie.

Too bad I got told off earlier about flash photography, which seems to be the default setting on my camera.  Otherwise, you would be able to see the Virgin Mary in the Victorian bell jars properly.  You know what I'm going to say...so RookieMag but not ironic!  Then again, is there anything very ironic about RookieMag?

I would have liked to have made this next picture the final and crowning picture for this post, but alas, I have more to say.

 Peranankans who converted to Christianity may have also converted the "traditional" cabinet or whatever it is called for worshipping ancestors and gods to one for worshipping Joseph, Mary and Jesus Christ.  Note: I did not make Christ the surname of that family.  I don't know why there's that guy in the red top on the side.  Maybe it was a reflection of another painting.  Or maybe it's an Asian Jesus who appeared in my camera.  Must be a message.

 I was looking forward to some Nonya food since I had not had lunch.  But there was only a tiny cafe without room to swing a cat, let alone carry my bag in.  Yeah, there wasn't much.  So I stayed hungry.

Then, I was rushing rushing rushing home.  I found a bus stop, decided which bus to take, then was sitting for a while but no bus was turning up.  Damn, I looked at the routes board again and the number for the bus I wanted was in grey rather than red, so I thought "maybe the bus doesn't come here", though actually it probably does go there.  So I rushed over to the MRT station, which was Bras Basah, got on a train.  Then I heard the announcement for the next station had a sudden feeling I'd gotten on the wrong direction of the line, so I got off at the next station and switched platform.  All good, right?

But the thing was, I didn't know where I should get off! I thought it would be best to try to get somewhere I knew.  But then it stopped at a place called Buona Vista Interchange and I thought I had seen it written on the bus sheet near my place.  So I hiked in the rain out of the station, across the road and down the road to a bus stop to find that none of the buses I wanted were going where I wanted to go.  So I hopped back on the MRT and got to Holland Village.  The MRT station had three exits for different bus stops.  Some how, I picked the correct one and hiked a bit up a hill in the rain to catch a bus and it was all good.  But I was a few minutes late for dinner.

The moral of the story is that if you run out of water and are thirsty, you will be a bad decision maker when in a rush and not be very orientated.

Also, at the end of that day, I was feeling no desire to go out ever again or explore ever again.  Also, I felt that it might be an idea to study a map before going out, but also that I should not need to do that since I had learned the whole of Singapore.

I Heart My Hair

Chapter #6 of Stuff Indie People Like by Joanna the Friend. It has a bit of a personal backstory - our cool Year Nine Religion and Philosophy teacher telling us about how she notices girls in particular getting a new haircut when they go through a big change in their life. That was related to the lesson because we were watching a seventies movie about this guy who gets into a cult and consequently gets a new hairstyle.

The last time I changed my hairstyle was at the end of my time in Singapore for my return to Australia. I didn't manage to get a new haircut for starting at my new school. However, in the couple of weeks before school, my hair had grown out quite a lot and was looking like The Rachel. [What does that mean? That I wasn't into new beginnings/newness anymore; that instead I was going through a time of growth?]

Which reminds me about how I love watching the changing hairstyles on the TV show Friends. Starting at the beginning: Joey moves in and Chandlers gets rid of his beard (okay, that one doesn't really count because we don't know about that until a flashback occurring later). Rachel leaves Barry and her old life at the altar and goes to New York where she then undergoes radical change - so does her hairstyle after the first couple of episodes!!

Enter Title Here and that Legendary Book

I've had a really intense day spent baking things. My mum just asked me what the subject matter of this post is, as she walked past. Then she spoke on my behalf by saying that I am just going to crap on. And then she told me in an expressive voice (for the one millionth time) that I am so wordy.

Anyway, nearly a year ago in the swimming change room on the last week of school, my friend Joanna, whose name I now pronounce with the type of j that sounds like y, gave me a rad book. She had filled in fifteen entries "in the style" of Stuff White People Like, and the book was called Stuff Indie People Like.


They were written in a MOLSKINE notebook.

The funny thing is, at the time when I tried to make this blog, I couldn't register the name on blogspot. Why? She had. (But then she deleted the blog and after some time, I took it.) Anyway, I told Joanna I would write some nice things about her. So I shall tell you that she had a semi-brief stint as a blogger herself. makeandbelieve-elke.blogspot.com was successful, though because it's been sleeping for a while, I'll call it semi-successful. There's an example of someone who actually practices a picture and a line saying a thousand words!

Here is an extract from the book, which, being something both handwritten and scanned, is just what we (me and my blog) need. [the artist of the book and Billie retain copyright]

Hipster Houses

There’s something in the air that must be influencing you to ask yourself big questions about the nature of things, such as what happens to an Indie Child when they get kind of old and have already been living as an adult for a while? Well, I’ve been thinking about it a bit and researching the topic a bit and I’ve concluded that the natural path is becoming a Hipster and building a house. Built on big land, their children can be cultivated in the best possible way. It is then appropriate for them to start cooking hearty, rustic meals. (Living near the water is also very desirable.) You will doubtlessly have seen many pictures of these planned homes in magazines and online at places such as Unhappy Hipsters. There is therefore no need for me to describe them.

I’m not trying to rain down on their creative sparks or anything like that, but I can’t help noticing that seeing as Hipsters seriously dig the Nordic style, isn’t their style quite “off the shelf”? Hipsters probably love things to be crafted for them by craftspeople/furniture makers. So my question is whether it is they themselves who design their chair to an interesting geometric shape, or do they buy pieces from designers who specialise in interesting shaped furniture?

And you have noticed their passion for storage space, have you not? Utilising nifty storage space is an example of Hipster minimalist values, as they’re keeping the clutter out of their lives. Though they are not actually having few possessions.

Hipster homes are a living art-space. Creative people live in them and do creative things. Hipster furniture tends to be large and minimalist. So balancing big and small is important and composition is an art form. An example is leaving storage shelves of the open variety empty, with the exception of a small object. And having a tastefully artistic home breeds further creativity in all ways.

When I set out to write this blog post, I thought I knew what I was going to write about, that I had a clear point, actually, perhaps just a point. Now I’m just plain confused and feel that all I have grasped is that if you are in the situation of thinking for some reason that you fit into the Hipster category but aren’t confident letting your own innovativeness create your home, you can read the catalogues and visit the store of Swedish furniture company IKEA (which I’m thinking you probably already like.) In the scheme of things, it’s probably best to let others judge you and your taste by the brands you buy. DIY meets design. Hahahaha.