Nala Design New Collections Brutal TImes May 2026

SUBSCRIBE

LOGIN

NALA HAPPY TIMES

DESIGN

CULTURE

TASTE

TRAVEL

FOOD

THURSDAY SHOWS

UNAGI CLUB

NALA'S SHOP

DESIGN

CULTURE

TASTE

TRAVEL

FOOD

THURSDAY SHOWS

UNAGI CLUB

ARCHIVES

CONTRIBUTORS

DISCOVER

Nala's Instagram

Nala's Facebook

Nala's LinkedIn

Lisetts's LinkedIn

Nala's Tiktok

Nala's Youtube

OUR BRAND

About us

Nala's locations

FAQs

Customer service

Careers

Manifesto

HIGHLIGHT

Latest issue on 7 Sept 2025. Update every Saturday.

Thursday Show
The cookbook I should have bought

The cookbook I should have bought

5 min read

The cookbook I should have bought

It’s a dangerous thing, putting a bookshop inside a supermarket.

LISETTE

SHARE

The other day, while wandering through the beautiful, and eerily empty, Market at the Four Seasons Hotel Kuala Lumpur, I stumbled across a little collection of cookbooks. There weren’t many left, but every single one looked thoughtfully chosen. One, in particular, caught my eye: Your Daily Veg by Joe Woodhouse.

I didn’t buy it but I should have.

Joe Woodhouse grew up on farms in England, became a vegetarian at the age of ten, trained as a chef, and later worked as a food stylist and photographer before turning his hand to writing cookbooks. His approach to cooking is wonderfully simple: let the vegetables do the talking.

This isn’t one of those vegetarian cookbooks trying to imitate meat. Nor is it about complicated techniques or impossible-to-find ingredients. It’s about making everyday vegetables exciting, seasonal, and utterly delicious. Think roasted aubergines, comforting potato dishes, creamy mushrooms, grilled asparagus, and clever little combinations that make you wonder why you never thought of them yourself.

The skirt that thinks it is a painting.

Even Nigella Lawson is a fan, describing the food as joyful, seasonal, and full of flavour without being fussy. That’s probably the best way to describe the whole book.

The irony isn’t lost on me. I found one of my favourite discoveries of the month in what might be the loneliest beautiful supermarket in Kuala Lumpur. I still don’t know how the place is surviving. During my visit, I was the only customer. Nobody came in. Nobody left. But perhaps that’s exactly why it’s worth a detour.

You might discover a beautiful ingredient, a wonderful bottle of olive oil, or a cookbook you didn’t know you needed. And if you’re lucky, perhaps you’ll even persuade them to give you a little discount.

As for me, I think I need to go back. Hopefully the supermarket will still be there.

And hopefully, so will the book.

The skirt that thinks it is a painting.
The skirt that thinks it is a painting.
Some things just Klic

Some things just Klic

5 min read

Some things just Klic

Some projects are complicated.
Some take endless meetings, revisions, and second-guessing.

LISETTE

SHARE

And then there are those rare occasions when everything simply… klics.

A few years ago, I met Chris while working on The Campus. What started as a project turned into a friendship and a creative partnership built on trust, good ideas, and a shared ambition to create beautiful spaces.

So when he invited NALA to work on his newest venture, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Introducing KLIC, a brand new tennis destination behind Putra World Trade Centre.

We’ve had the privilege of working on the branding and interior identity, helping to shape a place that’s modern, welcoming, and full of personality. It’s one of those projects that reminds me why I love design so much. It’s never just about logos or colours. It’s about creating places where people want to spend time.

The courts are ready to play.
The café is still on its way. The reception is still being built.

The skirt that thinks it is a painting.
The skirt that thinks it is a painting.
The skirt that thinks it is a painting.

But I rather like that.
There’s something wonderfully optimistic about opening the courts first. Play the game now. Finish the details as you go. Don’t wait for perfection to enjoy the journey.

Working with Chris has been an absolute pleasure. One of the nicest things in business is finding people you genuinely enjoy creating with. The second project is always special because it’s built on trust, and trust is one of the most valuable things you can earn.

I’m incredibly proud of what we’ve created together, and I can’t wait for everyone to see it.

So if you’re looking for a beautiful new place to play tennis, watch this space.

KLIC is opening soon.

And sometimes, the best things in life simply… klic.

The skirt that thinks it is a painting.
The skirt that thinks it is a painting.
The skirt that thinks it is a painting.
The skirt that thinks it is a painting.
The loneliest beautiful supermarket

The loneliest beautiful supermarket

5 min read

The loneliest beautiful supermarket

The other day, I wandered into what might just be the loneliest beautiful supermarket I’ve ever visited.

LISETTE

SHARE

Hidden inside the Four Seasons Hotel Kuala Lumpur, it has almost everything going for it. Beautiful branding, elegant interiors, thoughtful graphics, and shelves curated with obvious care. There was even a tiny book section. Almost sold out, but the handful of books that remained were wonderful, including the one featured in this newsletter.

What struck me wasn’t what was there.

It was who wasn’t.

I was the only customer in the entire supermarket.

I took my time, wandering through the aisles, looking at the displays and admiring the details. Nobody came in. Nobody left. For that brief moment, it felt as though the whole supermarket had been designed just for me.

And it made me think. I have always believed that good design works. Beautiful spaces matter. They make us stop, look, and appreciate the world around us.

But perhaps beauty alone isn’t enough. Perhaps even the most beautifully designed places need something more.

The skirt that thinks it is a painting.
The skirt that thinks it is a painting.
The skirt that thinks it is a painting.

A story. A community. A reason for people to make them part of their lives. A shop, a café, a supermarket, or even a fashion brand can have wonderful interiors and beautiful products, but without soul, they’re simply pretty rooms waiting for someone to walk in.

Good design opens the door. People keep it open.

Perhaps that’s the missing ingredient. Not another renovation or a new logo, but little rituals and familiar faces. The butcher who knows your name. The coffee you always order. The recommendation for a good book. The feeling that this place belongs to you, and you belong to it.

Just across the road is another supermarket(Isetan), full of people. It may not be as carefully designed, but over time it has built habits, trust, and loyalty.

Those things can’t simply be bought. They have to be earned.

I hope this supermarket succeeds. I’d hate to see a space this beautiful disappear. It has enormous potential and, with a little luck and the right story, perhaps it will find its audience.

It was also a quiet reminder for me. Whether we’re building a supermarket, opening a shop, or creating a brand, beautiful design is incredibly important.
But beauty is only the invitation.

It’s the story that makes people stay.

The skirt that thinks it is a painting.
The skirt that thinks it is a painting.
The skirt that thinks it is a painting.
The skirt that thinks it is a painting.
The shop that didn’t know your name

The shop that didn’t know your name

5 min read

The shop that didn't know your name

There’s an old saying in retail that people don’t remember what they bought. They remember how they felt.

LISETTE

SHARE

Over the past few months, we’ve had the privilege of running three very different shops in Singapore. Each one taught us something new about business, about people, and about ourselves.

And one lesson stood out above all others.

A shop has to know your name.

We’ve made the decision not to renew our Tanglin store, and at the end of June we’ll be closing its doors. From the 15th until the 28th of June, we’ll be having a clearance sale, with wonderful bargains and plenty of surprises. We’d love for you to come by and help us celebrate the end of this chapter.

The funny thing is, I don’t see this as a failure. I see it as an education.

The skirt that thinks it is a painting.
The skirt that thinks it is a painting.
The skirt that thinks it is a painting.

Tanglin gave us the opportunity to test a new market and to understand what works and, equally importantly, what doesn’t.

Beautiful interiors matter.
Beautiful products matter.
Good design always matters.
But they’re only part of the story.

A successful shop needs something much harder to create. It needs people. It needs consistency. It needs warmth. It needs the feeling that someone is genuinely happy to see you walk through the door.

It needs to know your name.

As a business owner, I also have to take responsibility for the decisions that didn’t work. We learned some difficult lessons along the way, particularly about the importance of having the right people representing the brand every single day.

Those lessons weren’t cheap.
But they were valuable.

Today, we have an incredible team, and we’ve decided to focus our energy where we can make the biggest difference. Great World and TANGS are becoming exactly what we always hoped for: neighbourhood shops where you’ll be greeted with a smile, where someone remembers your favourite print, and where the experience is every bit as important as the product itself.

So this isn’t really goodbye.
It’s a decision to slow down, consolidate, and build something stronger.
Will we return to Tanglin one day? I certainly hope so.

But next time, we’ll know that a beautiful shop is only the beginning. The real magic happens when the people inside make you feel like you belong.

After all, the best shops don’t just know what you bought.

They know your name.

The skirt that thinks it is a painting.
The skirt that thinks it is a painting.
Second chances

Second chances

5 min read

Second chances

Sometimes, a design surprises you. When we launched our Brutalist batik pieces, I secretly hoped they’d become everyday favourites. The kind of wardrobe staples you reach for without thinking.
The kind that somehow work for coffee, lunch, travel, and dinner. They sold out faster than we expected.

LISETTE

SHARE

The good news? We’ve managed to create a very small second run.

Our beloved Jalan Jalan skirt, named after the Malay expression for wandering and exploring, is back in a beautiful new colourway. To me, it’s the perfect everyday skirt: comfortable, flattering, and ready for whatever the day has in store.

The skirt that thinks it is a painting.
The skirt that thinks it is a painting.
The skirt that thinks it is a painting.

We’ve also topped up a selection of our favourite tops and the ever elegant Kee Ming Yuet skirts, giving those who missed out the first time another opportunity.

As always with NALA, quantities are limited. We make small batches because we believe in thoughtful production rather than endless stock. Once they’re gone, they’re gone.

So if you’ve had your eye on a Brutalist batik piece, this might just be your second chance.

Happy wandering.