Shanghai Vixen

I am a good packer. It’s fair to say that if packing were an Olympic sport or a reality show, I’d be a shoo-in. I used to call it the art of Tetris with shoes, except that I have learned to minimize the shoes taken. The trick for going on trips is to pick a consistent color scheme, so everything matches everything else. My usual approach is to do black and white, plus one color - usually red, turquoise, dark green, or pink - for flavor. This trip’s color option was red; of course, acquisitions along the way can be anything.

As I packed to come home, grinning at the difficulty airport security would have replicating my precision, I contemplated luggage as a social capsule. What does what one chooses to schlep across oceans say about a person? Let’s find out, as I unpack on a dark rainy morning.

From my small carryon, the small red Samsonite Black Label Vintage bag:

Laptop and chord; baggie of toiletries plus a few teabags; my large camera, a Canon EOS D30. My dark green Gucci nerd glasses. Small black leather datebook, in which I track my daily activities, expenses, work, weight, intake of calories, alcohol, carbs and meat, and how much I exercise, write, draw and study language. My diary, currently a small black moleskin embossed with a Frank Lloyd Wright design. 80 gig black Ipod, in black leather case from Coach ($15, clearance sale). My passport, in black scored leather Shanghai Tang holder (awesome swag), and air ticket. Breath mints.

From the large carryon, an actual 1940s Samsonite hatbox in brown faux crocodile:

Three small bottles of nice sake, bought during Narita stopover. Elastic resistance band. Sleeveless Bebe top, square necked with gold sequins in a scallop pattern. Black, red-beaded Malay tunic top. Red and gold scarf from Peru. Tank tops, white and red. Victoria’s Secret satin pajamas, a turquoise/navy/yellow/black/white geometric print. Limited edition Bombay Sapphire martini glass. My favorite black with white piping linen dress, a BCBG pirate. Black slacks from Old Navy. My small camera, a Canon Ixus 700.

From the scruffy fake North Face backpack: 

Black velour pants. Black fake Prada purse, my usual carry-on. Tortillas, corn and whole wheat. Language CDs: Bahasa Indonesian and Hebrew (the latter is for my friend Iski). Black suede loafers from Nine West. Black t-shirt and safari hat emblazed with the name of a magazine I work for. Red suede loafers, a red skirt with Buddhas on it (some black guy in the US informed me he was offended by my wearing a Buddha skirt…), from small Chinese brands. Burt’s Bees gift sets and regifted candy for the cat-sitters. Black with white trim Mary Jane’s from Payless, bought in Miami in 2005. Short black with white trim trench coat (yes, I’m consistent). Black and white fake Armani tank top. Drugs: Tylenol, calcium, airborne, C, folic acid, E, multivitamins. Seeds: basil, catnip, lavender, mint, morning glory, dill. Supply of foam earplugs (I need to stock up, since the Silver Lining likes to steal and eat them.)  Black-and-white mod blouse and a black with white trim mini-dress from Bebe. (Unlike my many discount acquisitions from their outlet stores, I got these at a wincing-inducingly high full price, but they were so me and will go so well with my wardrobe, the splurge was justifiable. Sigh, pretty.) More Bebe tops, albeit discount: a sparkly black v-neck sleeveless, and spaghetti-strapped ones in gold and silver.  A high-tech knee brace, much needed on my left since the last Taekwondo accident. A novelty magnet, “I childproofed my house, but they still get in”, a Christmas present I may re-gift. Nice colored pencils from Mama Buff. Nice silver martini picks, gifts from Kaoru’s husband. A small gray stuffed kitty that mews when squeezed, unlike Silver Lining who only goes “Eh!”, but I expect he will play with it. Trader Joe’s pomegranate white tea. A small bag of jewelry. Novelty ice tray that makes cubes in jewel shapes. Red silk scarf from Taiwanese designer Shiatzy Chen, swag from November 2005. A Brown environmental mug, these big plastic insulated things, back in our day with art by a Canto-American guy I knew; I’d left mine with Dr. Uncle after graduating, they melted during his house fire, but Happy gave me her spare when I visited, so I am very warm-fuzzy about this one. My red and off-white fake vintage vinyl Channel purse. Assorted cosmetics: Neutregenia lavender and chamomile body lotion, Body Shop vitamin E face cream and sparkly nail file and lip balms from Kaoru, a candy-copia of mini nail polishes. The cookbook I got to match my mom’s Christmas present (Better Homes and Garden’s More Easy Everyday Cooking) and Lynn Pan’s Tracing it Home (a returned loan-out). Assorted camera chargers, USB cables, extra memory cards. Assorted packages from US friends for our mutual Shanghai friends. Rose stationary from Mama Buff. The ornate map of Brooklyn Xiao Xu drew for me. Plenty of socks and panties, in varying degrees of ew-ness. My trusty little pocket knife.

From my large silver fake Samsonite wheely:

“Bunny Suicides” calendar from Peaceful Dragon. Black and white Zara mini-dress. The black and white “va-va-voom boots” from Hot Wind. A silk Victoria’s Secret robe matching the aforementioned pajamas. My black-and-white corset. Earl Grey and Chai Spice teas. A black and silver shirt. “I shoot people” t-shirt. Velour pants in cream, olive and burgundy (I work out in these, so go through a lot of them). White t with the Arabic alphabet on it, from the Islamic Arts Museum in Kuala Lumpur. White with black flower design cotton qipao from Xiangyang Market, circa 2004. Another Bombay Sapphire glass. Black taffeta halter dress with sequined bodice, fake Catherine Malandrino I believe. Red wool mod jacket and matching miniskirt, both from Z’ell, one of my favorite small Chinese brands. A red silk camisole top from The Express. A black skirt with white piping in a scallop pattern, with white mesh peeping below the hemline, swag from WGNY and the zipper broke on the third wearing, so I’m glad I didn’t pay the $200 it would have cost. A strapless white dress with black piping radiating out like a spoke or the imperial Japanese flag, a fake Coast bought mid-2005 from a shop on Changshu Lu, worn most memorably on New Year’s Eve 2006 in Jakarta. Assorted stationary from the fashion magazine I work for. A vintage Samsonite suitcase, c 1940, in navy blue Formica with white leather plastic trim. Red silk scarf from Vietnam. A shlumphy black and white sweater. A long, black white and tan geometric 1970s dress; it’s bad when I pack my fat clothes and then can’t even fit into them. A black velvet 1950s top from my mom, and then some gorgeous black and red embroidered Chinese slippers that I gave to my grandma, who gave to my mom, who gave back to me; sad that her discards are much richer taking than her gifts. A simple red shirt I’ve had since college. A salmon with purple trim t-shirt with a Chinese wave design from Colorpix (their boss is a really great guy, by the way, and I’m really glad for their success). Red “Only Anarchist Are Pretty” shirt from Bali. A book of creative envelope designs, a notebook patterned with Magritte detailing, sparkly red and gold plates from Crate & Barrel, a recorder, a book on how to play it, and some tiny mariachis, and a silver choker, all Christmas gifts from Mama Buff. Soaps: lemon verbena, ginger almond oatmeal, cranberry, Caress (smells like my Grandma :). A fugly sweater from my mom, to be regifted to my Ayi. Cookie cutters from Theramini, a vegetable dicing contraption from my Grandma, and a booklet about my friend’s forthcoming tome on classical music.

So, what does all this say about me?

I returned from Malaysia yesterday, and am unpacking. Okay, I already unpacked, as in the sense of “dump entire contents of backpack on floor, throwing into piles of bathroom (to wash), bedroom (to hang up), study (to use) and foyer (to put away). Despite traveling light, I managed to cram a lot of crap into my grungy/trusty backpack. Here’s the loot. (Will repost with photos soon.)

The best of the batch is an old style Chinese signboard from elderly Cantonese artisan Kok Ah Wah in Penang.  Mr. Kok (oh how Cantonese names force me to resist the obvious, tasteless jokes; temptation all the worse when the subject is a sweet little Canto-Grandpa) is probably the last person in the world still making these. Too bad, it’s a beautiful art, and I was fortunate to be able to place an order for my house, Hui Long Hui. Also got three nice batiks.

Blue retro glass vase, from a little Chinese shop in Penang. From Royal Selangor (where I will register if I ever do anything weddingish), an art nouveau picture frame and a hip flask. It’s a challenge to not max out the credit card there, the stuff is so very nice, and with prices to match.

Souvenir mug from the wonderful Islamic Arts Museum, and a set of tea cups from another little Chinese shop in Penang.

A pair of gold and bronze strappy sandals, from Penang’s main mall.  (Silver Lining is the background blur.)

Two sparkly tunic tops, will serve me well for next trip to whichever Muslim-Land I go to next, and a flowy wear-over thing.  Also three cool t-shirts.

And a bunch of Indian bangles.

I also bought a LOT of books, yay the press freedom we lack in China, and mostly at the wonderful Kinokuniya store. Acquisitions are:

“A Short History of Malaysia” by Virginia Matheson Hooker. Picking up “Indonesian Destinies” during that trip definitely doubled its value, and so I was on the lookout for a good Malaysia overview as well. This appeared the best of the offerings.  Need to finish the massive Indonesian book first - it’s my gym treadmill fodder and despite an hour a day at it for the past six months I’m only now approaching completion. This one is significantly less furniture-sized.

“Journeys Through Southeast Asia” and “Ceritalah: Malaysia in Transition” by Karim Raslan. I picked up, read and liked the former in Kota Kinabalu, so grabbed its prequel later along the road. Decently written and with an interesting perspective.

“The Crystal Spirit: A study of George Orwell,” by George Woodcock. I always enjoy literary biography. Graham Greene’s “Monsignor Quixote”. I only recently discovered Greene, due to my Substitute Mother’s pushing “Quiet American” on me, and have been slowly devouring his works since, when I can get them. “Antic Hay” is an early novel of Aldous Huxley’s, and an interesting skewering of artistic pretention.

Berlitz pocket guides to Malaysia and Hong Kong. Two for one sale! I have great disdain for guidebooks, having written for several and observed the crap standards of both my own employers and others for the facts in Shanghai. But they’re still fun to read.

“Eyewitness Companions’ Photography” by Tom Ang. I need a good photo book; actually, need lots of them, but this can start the collection.

Peter Hopkirk’s “The Great Game” and “Foreign Devils on the Silk Road”. Classics I should have read long ago, but am very excited to final acquire them after my Xinjiang trip in May. I am now completely obsessed with Central Asia. Along with East Asia, Southeast Asia, South Asia, the Middle East, Africa, and Latin and South America. Europe and North America are growing on me, too. In a similar vein, at the Islamic Arts Museum I got the coffee table book of their current show, “Abrbandi: Ikats of Central Asia.” Art, fashion and regional history all rolled into one, how could I resist?

“Foreign Babes in Beijing,” by Rachel DeWoskin. I expect it will be painful to read, not because it’s bad, but because it’s similar to my experience with Jifu. Only…I’ve lived in Shanghai much longer, and my heart-breaking Chinese guy relationship was very long and very serious.

“Marrying Buddha” by Wei Hui. Also painful, but because it’s bad. A skim suggests that her writing has improved somewhat, but that makes it merely mediocre, not hilariously bad like “Shanghai Baby”. Well, it’s a must-read, if only in order to bash it properly.

Aren’t they great? Daphne is one of my top two favorite Chinese footwear brands. (The other is Hotwind. Daphne is very “feminine”, while Hotwind tends more towards urban funk.)

(Silver Lining just insisted on being in the shot. Poncy Persian.)

I was really torn between these and the same in yellow. Neither are colors I wear much, but both muted tones therein. I love the style, a mix of ballet flats and Mary Janes - my two favorite shoe types! - and the design with the little fish. The seahorse in the sole is a nice touch, most mid-range shoe brands neglect the inside joke with the consumer that is the nice/fun sole.

These were discounted to 160 RMB, equiv of US$20. Should I go back and get the yellow pair too? It’s actually somewhere between yellow and beige, so not too loud (apart from, ya know, the fishes), and the fish are white and blue with a black fringe. *Sigh* …choices…

This launches a new category on this blog. Since it’s all g-friends and metrosexuals a-reading, hopefully it won’t seem too scary. I’m not a clothes-horse, really, just a habitual collector who enjoys the artistry of fashion design. And who has a constantly fluctuating weight, so (sigh) has full wardrobes running from size 0 to 12…