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Latest issue on 7 Sept 2025. Update every Saturday.

Thursday Show
Wall panels that would work perfectly as a skirt

Wall panels that would work perfectly as a skirt

5 min read

Wall panels that would work perfectly as a skirt

I’m in Singapore this week.
Back and forth between here and KL for work, and I realised this would probably be my last hotel stay for a while. So I thought, why not pick something really different?

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I booked The Vagabond Club on a whim. No research. Just scrolling on my hotel app and pressing “book.” And honestly, it’s been one of the strangest and most interesting hotel experiences I’ve had in Singapore.

From the moment you walk in, there’s a rhinoceros sculpture as a reception desk and walls wrapped in red velvet. Dramatic, theatrical, slightly ridiculous, slightly fabulous.

Then you open the door to your room and everything shifts.

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

There are hand-painted walls and these incredible linen wall panels with floral motifs. The panels, in particular, stopped me in my tracks. All I could think was: this would make such a beautiful skirt. Long panels. Vertical flow. Printed linen. A garment waiting to happen.

The room itself feels calm, artistic, and thoughtful with a touch too much. A lovely contrast to the wild lobby downstairs.

The hotel sits in a heritage Art Deco building from the 1950s, located between Little India and Kampong Glam, two of Singapore’s oldest and most character-filled neighbourhoods. Little India is full of spice shops, textile stores, and temples. Kampong Glam is home to colourful shophouses, cafés, boutiques, and the Sultan Mosque. It’s layered and very alive.

Stepping outside at night did give me a small oops moment. The street energy is… lively. Let’s leave it at that. But tonight there’s live jazz at the hotel bar, and suddenly everything makes sense again.

It’s the kind of hotel you’d want to stay in with someone special. A little bit strange. A little bit romantic. A little bit confusing.

Everything feels slightly wrong.
And somehow, very right.

The skirt that thinks it is a painting.
The skirt that thinks it is a painting.
Milan, Miami, and a Palm Tree State of Mind

Milan, Miami, and a Palm Tree State of Mind

5 min read

Milan, Miami, and a Palm Tree State of Mind

Palm Patio is a print that quietly carries a lot of places at once. A little bit of Milan, a little bit of Miami, right here in Kuala Lumpur. How cool is that.

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I have always loved Milan because, in many ways, it reminds me of KL. It is a city that is slightly chaotic and a little messy in the best possible way. You need to know where to go. You need to know which streets matter, which restaurants are worth returning to, and which ones you quietly forget. It is a city learned through trial and error.

Friendships matter there. Food matters even more. The food is incredible. And once you understand the rhythm, everything clicks. Milan is not polished in an obvious way. It is ad hoc, layered, and alive. Apart from the fact that you can walk everywhere, it has the same big city energy that makes KL feel so real to me. I feel like a fish in water there. After my travel ban(self imposed), I cannot wait to go back.

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

Palm Patio was inspired by a hidden Airbnb apartment courtyard in Milan, filled with tall palm trees and soft light. Sitting on the terrace, eating my pineapple bars, which truly deserve a comeback, I found myself just looking up. That moment became the print.

The lines hint at Art Deco Miami, with its optimistic curves and sun soaked attitude. But the soul of the print is Milan. Observant, relaxed, and quietly confident.

Palm Patio is a classic. At first glance, it might look like it does not match anything. In reality, it matches everything. The pink and blue palette works effortlessly, which is why this print remains beautifully underrated.

Finished with real leather piping, the bags are designed to be lived with. And if you want to carry a little bit of Milan and Miami with you, without leaving Kuala Lumpur, this is it.

Palm Patio bags are currently available at 50% off in all stores and online. Sometimes the best journeys are the ones you do not need a plane for.

The skirt that thinks it is a painting.
The skirt that thinks it is a painting.
Little Prairie on the Hill, Minus John Boy

Little Prairie on the Hill, Minus John Boy

5 min read

Little Prairie on the Hill, Minus John Boy

There are very few places where I can genuinely slow down. A Little Farm on the Hill is one of them.

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I went with my daughter and immediately felt like I was home. The kind of calm that comes from people knowing exactly why they are doing what they are doing. The experience is a feast, not only for your stomach, but also for your eyes. Everything feels considered. Nothing feels forced. Everything has purpose. Pure wabi sabi.

I have enormous respect for Lisa Ngan and Pete Teo. Before this, they lived a completely different city life. Lisa Ngan is an architect by training, deeply attuned to structure, space, and detail. Pete Teo is a musician and filmmaker. Together, they decided to step away from the city and build something entirely new in Janda Baik, just a 45 minute drive from Kuala Lumpur. Neither of them had farming experience. They had never run a farm, grown vegetables, or operated a restaurant. They learned through trial and error, from books, friends, and sheer persistence. What they have built is both a working organic farm and a farm to table restaurant, rooted in sustainability, soil health, and respect for process.

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

Having run a restaurant myself, I know how difficult it is to get everything right. The food, the timing, the atmosphere and the team. Here, it all works. The food is exceptional. Thoughtful, generous and beautifully cooked. It is also one of the best places I know for pescetarians and vegetarians, with a menu that adapts effortlessly and never makes you feel like an afterthought.

The staff are incredible. Confident, warm and very present. They look you in the eye. They crack jokes. You can have a conversation with them and my San Pellegrino was served like a bottle of champagne.

What stays with me most are the conversations. The genuine interest in you as a person. The curiosity and inspiring energy. The way Lisa and Pete engage, ask questions, listen. You leave feeling nourished in more ways than one. Even the flower arrangement in the toilet is beautiful, which tells you everything you need to know.

This time, my daughter asked Pete why they started all of this. The answer was simple. They wanted to do something completely different. Something they did not yet know how to do. They learned by doing.

If you want a long, slow, South of France style brunch, this is the place. If it were up to me, I would go every weekend. Malaysia would genuinely not be the same without A Little Farm on the Hill.

Good night, Lisa.
Good night, Pete.
Good night, John Boy.

The skirt that thinks it is a painting.
The skirt that thinks it is a painting.
Plein Air, No Wi-Fi

Plein Air, No Wi-Fi

5 min read

Plein Air, No Wi-Fi

What I loved most about Impressionism is the idea of plein air.
Taking your paints outside. Standing in real light. Feeling the air, the greenery, the movement of the world around you. No screens. No shortcuts. Definitely no Wi-Fi. You carried your paints, your paper, and your patience. Light was not something you edited later. It was something you chased, usually while the clouds were doing whatever they pleased.

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What also stood out was how deliberately these artists worked against convention. Leaving the studio to paint outdoors went against academic tradition. Choosing everyday life, changing cities, and ordinary moments as subjects was a shift in how art related to the world. It was practical, observational, and at the time, quite unconventional.

They also touch on how these artists criticised each other. Degas, for example, was teased for making paintings that looked almost unfinished. Too airy, too soft, too sketch-like. As if he was painting with cotton wool. Which, of course, is exactly what makes his work so interesting now.

The exhibition at the National Gallery Singapore, Into the Modern: Impressionism from the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, explains all of this beautifully. It is exceptionally well curated and easy to follow. You see Monet, Manet, Degas, Pissarro and others responding to a world that was changing fast, and each of them finding their own way of looking at it.

All the works come from the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, and seeing so many of these classics together is quite something. There are also films and archival material, including footage of Monet painting outside in his own garden. Watching him stand there, brush in hand, surrounded by greenery and shifting light, feels almost unreal. Probably every artist’s dream. To take some paper, some paint, and just go outside.

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 had a go at it too. I sketched from photographs taken at the Botanical Gardens. Not quite plein air in the pure sense, but close enough to feel the joy of slowing down and actually looking. It reminded me how playful drawing can be when you remove expectations and put the phone away.

The exhibition runs until March next year. The National Gallery is open daily from 10 am to 7 pm. And honestly, even if you are not nearby, it is next door enough. Taking a bus for roughly RM120 return just to see this show is completely worth it. You walk out inspired, calmer, and gently reminded of what outside actually looks like.

Sometimes all it takes is light, time, and putting the phone down.

The skirt that thinks it is a painting.
The skirt that thinks it is a painting.
Carols, Hot Chocolate, and a Very Vegan Christmas

Carols, Hot Chocolate, and a Very Vegan Christmas

5 min read

Carols, Hot Chocolate, and a Very Vegan Christmas

Every now and then, you walk into a space and feel instantly inspired. Yesterday was one of those moments. I was invited to the Christmas gathering hosted by Heveya, a beautifully thoughtful bedding company I’ve recently come to know and now deeply appreciate.

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Heveya has Belgian roots and a Bali soul, and they are well known in Singapore for their natural rubber mattresses and breathable bamboo sheets. They approach rest with an attention to detail that feels both intentional and refined. And next year, we will be creating a collection together. I cannot wait to share it with you.

But last night wasn’t about business.
It was about atmosphere. Taste. Ideas. And the pleasure of seeing a Christmas celebration done differently.

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

Instead of the usual festive clichés, Heveya served the most extraordinary 100 percent vegan spread. Elegant, surprising, and genuinely delicious.
Popcorn that made you rethink popcorn. A “foie gras” made entirely from tofu that somehow tasted like the real thing.
Smoked dragon fruit paired with cashew nuts. Hot chocolate that wrapped itself around you like a blanket.

Nothing excessive, everything intentional.

The setting was equally thoughtful. Guests lounged on their signature mattresses and soft sheets, turning the entire space into a living room of comfort. A carol singer arrived and filled the room with warmth. And the crowd, interesting, curious, creative and it reminded me how inspiring it is when people gather without pretense.

It was a gentle reminder that Christmas can be beautiful without the formula.
It can be simple. It can be thoughtful. And yes, it can be entirely vegan.

Here’s to Heveya, for the taste, the courage, and the inspiration.
And to the year ahead, where we will create something beautiful together.
Stay tuned.

Breakfast at Kee’s, Dreams at 21 Carpenter

Breakfast at Kee’s, Dreams at 21 Carpenter

7 min read

Breakfast at Kee's, Dreams at 21 Carpenter

Experiencing the quiet grace of Kee’s and 21 Carpenter revealed a poetic harmony between historic architecture and genuine hospitality, proving that true beauty lies in the thoughtful union of design and human kindness.

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There are places in Singapore that quietly take your breath away, not for their grandeur but for their grace. Kee’s, the restaurant inside 21 Carpenter, is one of them. From the moment you step in, it feels like a lesson in how design can whisper rather than shout. The space, conceived by WOHA Architects, has that rare balance of history and modernity. Once a 1930s banking hall, it now hums with the energy of a contemporary bistro. Brass details catch the light, soft tones make you linger a little longer, and everywhere you look there’s intention. It is not just a place to eat breakfast; it is a space that makes you pause and notice how beauty and function can live together.

The menu is thoughtful, the service unhurried, and the experience reminds you how much design can shape emotion. Even the way the morning light hits the marble counters feels orchestrated. It is not grand for the sake of it; it is human, warm, and quietly confident.

What truly set my morning apart was the incredible service. From the moment I walked in, I was greeted with a warmth that felt entirely genuine. Glynn, one of the team members, welcomed me with such grace that it immediately set the tone for the day. She gave me a little tour of the space, explaining its story and the philosophy behind its design. Then she surprised me with a beautiful plate that read “Welcome to Singapore.” It was such a simple gesture, yet so thoughtful that it completely charmed me. In that moment, I understood what hospitality really means. Not just good service, but care translated into small, unforgettable acts.

Breakfast at Kee's, Dreams at 21 Carpenter

The hotel that holds it, 21 Carpenter, is equally remarkable. Located between Clarke Quay and Chinatown, it began life in 1936 as a remittance house where Chinese migrant workers sent money and letters home. WOHA has transformed it into a 48-room boutique hotel that still carries the soul of that story. The architects kept the original four shophouses and added a modern extension on top, wrapped in a delicate aluminum façade etched with excerpts from those old remittance letters. The result is both poetic and precise.

What I love most is the reveal. From the street you see only the elegant old building, restored with quiet pride. But when you cross the road and look again, you notice the new structure floating above it. It is as if time has folded over itself. The old and the new coexist, not competing, just completing each other.

Breakfast at Kee's, Dreams at 21 Carpenter
Breakfast at Kee's, Dreams at 21 Carpenter

Every detail speaks of care: the timber floors, the subtle typography, the thoughtful quotes that appear when you least expect them. It is design that tells a story rather than shows off a concept. There is something deeply emotional about it, and I find myself wanting to stay there one day, to wake up in a place that feels both rooted and forward-looking.

Breakfast at Kee’s and a stay at 21 Carpenter are not just experiences; they are reminders that beauty, kindness, and thoughtfulness always go hand in hand.

Breakfast at Kee's, Dreams at 21 Carpenter
Breakfast at Kee's, Dreams at 21 Carpenter