This weekend, we’re bringing the creative process out of the studio and into the store. I’ll be painting live at our Great World boutique on Saturday and Sunday from 1.30 pm to 5.30 pm, working on two brand new illustrations right there in front of you.

If you’ve ever visited my desk, you’ll know it won’t be neat. There will be paint, brushes, sketches, a fair bit of organised chaos and, hopefully, by the end of the afternoon, two new artworks ready to begin their journey into future Nala collections.

One of the things I love most about Nala is that every pattern starts by hand. Before it becomes fabric, a bag or a piece of clothing, it begins with pencil, paint and plenty of trial and error. There are no shortcuts, just the joy of creating something from a blank sheet of paper.

So if you’re in the neighbourhood, come by and say hello. Ask questions, watch the process unfold or simply pull up a chair and stay for a while. I’d love to meet you.

You’ll find us at Great World, opposite Starbucks, and everyone is welcome.

I hope to see you this weekend.

For a while, I genuinely thought we could save it. Not by fighting, but by collaborating. The idea was simple: work together with the temple, bring in partners, create a destination that would benefit everyone and give this iconic corner of the street a new lease of life. We were ready. We had ideas, energy and even potential collaborators lined up.

Sadly, it wasn’t meant to be.
The reality is that sometimes people see potential, and sometimes they simply see square footage and rental income. A tenant willing to pay more came along, and our story at Kasturi came to an end. It’s disappointing, especially because I truly believe we could have created something magical together.

The surprising part was what happened next. Our Instagram call for collaborators was met with an overwhelming response. Restaurants, retailers and creative entrepreneurs reached out with ideas and encouragement. We even found a partner, Kopi Hut, that I think would have made an incredible addition to the space. I would have loved to see that collaboration come to life. Perhaps in another place and another time.

Kasturi has become more than just a shop. It’s part of the neighbourhood. A place where people discovered NALA, found unexpected treasures, had coffee, attended events and became part of our community. Seeing it go is bittersweet.

But there’s one thing I’ve learned as an entrepreneur. Sometimes you don’t get to choose the ending. You only get to choose how you leave.

So we’re leaving with colour, optimism and one final celebration. Our sale continues until the 28th, and we’re clearing fashion, homewares, furniture and some of the pieces that have made Kasturi so memorable. If you’ve been meaning to visit, this is your chance.

Come and wander through the space one last time. Shop your heart out, take home a piece of NALA history and help us give Kasturi the farewell it deserves.

Some collaborations are meant to happen. Others simply aren’t. Onwards and upwards.

Amsterdam is a city best explored on foot. Walking through it feels like wandering through an open air museum, where every street reveals another beautiful facade, another perfect window, another carefully tended garden. The houses seem to compete, not in grandeur, but in charm.

What always strikes me is the abundance of flowers. Roses climb up historic facades, fig trees stand proudly in front gardens, and window boxes overflow with seasonal blooms. It’s impossible not to notice that flowers are woven into Dutch life. They aren’t reserved for special occasions. They’re part of the everyday. Real flowers, fresh flowers, growing wherever they can, making ordinary streets feel extraordinary.

The same philosophy extends indoors. Peek through a window and you’ll often spot a vase of fresh flowers on a table or desk. It’s a small detail, but it says something about the Dutch approach to beauty. You don’t wait for a celebration. You simply make everyday life a little more beautiful.

And then there are the signs.

Without stepping into a single shop, Amsterdam offers a masterclass in typography. Traditional cafés and bars still proudly display their names in hand painted lettering, often in the famous Amsterdamse Krulletter, or Amsterdam Curly Letter. Developed in the 1940s and perfected by generations of Dutch sign painters, these elegant swirls and flourishes have become part of the city’s identity, decorating windows and facades with a craftsmanship that refuses to disappear. It’s a wonderful reminder that even something as practical as a shop sign can become a work of art.

I arrived yesterday to one of those perfect postcard days. Soft clouds drifting across a blue sky, bicycles quietly passing by, roses in full bloom and beautiful hand painted signs catching the afternoon light. There was no need to visit a museum or gallery. The city itself was enough.

Perhaps that’s what I love most about Amsterdam. It doesn’t separate art from everyday life. Flowers belong on the streets. Beautiful lettering belongs on shop windows. Historic houses are meant to be lived in. Beauty isn’t hidden away. It’s simply part of the daily routine.

And maybe that’s the best souvenir the Dutch have to offer: the idea that ordinary life deserves extraordinary care.