"Walk Walk Fashion Baby"

Designer: Noële Adam
Models: Maxi & Charlie
To all my dedicated readers (if these are
measured by the number of followers,
then all two of you) my sincerest
apologies for the lack of entries in
the bog.
I would like to say that it is solely down
to me being inundated with one thing
or another, and though this has some
part to play in the truth, the major culprits
are my laziness and lack of inspiration.

This issue however promises to make up for
lost time and delve itself into the glamorous
scenes of the Phuket fashion world.

On Sunday the 28th of November
DaVinci's restaurant hosted a charity
fashion show entitled "Black is Back".


Phuket Best Event said of the show "Phuket's Hottest
Fashion Show "Black is Back" will be lighting up the
runway at DaVinci's Reastaurant, Nai Harn on Sunday
28th November 2010; tipped to be the most incredible
show the South of the Island has ever had the
pleasure of hosting!" and the how really was
incredible, magical even.

Designer: Noële Adam

Designer: Noële Adam
I had the pleasure of coordinating the whole
backstage from start to finish of the show and
can proudly say that all ran very smoothly, and
am very proud of all the girls who were simply
wonderful, beautiful, dazzling, and nothing
short of spectacular.
I was greatly helped by the professionalism
of everyone involved, their hard word and
dedication to seeing this show succeed.
The organisers had worked hard and left
little to chance, which gave me a good
foundation to start with.
The hair and make up team were fabulous, the
designs were stunning, creative and evocative.
They worked relentlessly to have all the models
ready in time for their walks.
We were even helped by the Academia Italiana's
designers who organised all the racks for me
and helped get the girls in and out of their
numerous and sometimes awkward outfits.

Designer: Vanera for Sash-Iko
Model: Jay

Designer: Vanera for Sash-Iko
Model: Maxi
The first two shows were the 2011
spring/summer collections of two locally
based designers. They did a great job in
opening up the show, warming the
audience, who were not all of a natural
disposition to fashion.
They had more accessible styles of a
nature that one may be more accustomed
to seeing in daily life. They progressed
from "tenues de plages" to silky
evening-wear.

Designer: Accademia Italiana Bangkok - Porche
Model: George

Designer: Accademia Italiana Bangkok - porche
Model: Jay
The last two shows were of a more
avant garde style and kept the audience
breathless for most of their shows.
First there was a group of designers
from Bangkok, who were themselves
magnificent, and I was glad to be able to
convince them to walk down the runway
as the finale to their show, although a little
more time in preparing them for this would
have helped.

Designer: Accademia Italiana Bangkok
Model: Maxi

The Designers of Accademia Italiana Bangkok
Their work was marvellous, very creative
and innovative, it brought a fresh edge
to the show.
They stuck to their brief with designs
specifically created for the show (so
Phuket Best Event claims).

Designer: Phathanun Poositsuvapong
Model: Lauren

Designer: Phathanun Poositsuvapong
Model: Lindy
Our last designer exclusively debuting his ‘Beauty
in the Hidden Island’ Spring/Summer 2011 line,
gave us an inspirational show with very unique
and creative pieces. I was due to model an
outfit for him alongside another male model,
but sadly for one reason or another this
fell through and no male models were shown.
This did not affect the show, the girls kept
walking out one by one, every outfit
surpassing the last, the tension and
expectation of the crowd only kept rising.
The show ended on a level that no one
had expected to achieve and all the guests
themselves were surprised at where they found
themselves.

Designer: Phathanun Poositsuvapong
Model: George

Designer: Phathanun Poositsuvapong
Model: Emma
The next show will be in March. This
being only the first ever show here in
Nai Harn, and considering how successful
the show was,we can expect a lot from
those to come. Perhaps by then a lot of
the ideas being talked about in hushed
tones will have started taking shape,
perhaps I myself will be doing more
then backstage management, but march
is a long way away, sometimes things
move slowly, other times you are thrown
from one thing to another without ever
having time to catch your breath, I
think this is one of those times.

Designer: Phathanun Poositsuvapong
Model: Jay

Designer: Phathanun Poositsuvapong
Model: Charlie
Until then, my dear readers, you may
see me, sipping Martinis on the beach;
tirelessly working like a fiend
trying to find inspiration to satisfy your
ever present craving for a creative
inspired line or two. I will work night
and day if I have to in order to
bring to you your bread and butter,
if I may permit myself the expression,
as I know you all really only survive
due to my bog entries. That is the
kind of dedicated broadcaster
that I am, I broadcast waves of hope
and life.

Designer: Phathanun Poositsuvapong

Model: Lindy

The Designer Phathanun Poositsuvapong

Photos by Phil Date

R.B. 05 XII 2010

Compound sentences - sherlock in a tutu - plastic condoms - wet trousers(pants) - dry pant (underware) - puddles in hand made Italian shoes.

My morning classes are preceded by a
chorus of "good morning teacher" and
proceeded by claps of hands and bows
with clasped hands touching noses.
Half-way between these two events an
attempt is made at teaching where some
students pay close attention and others
assume they know everything, though
they are in my class due to failing last
semester.

Covering fables has been an interesting
time with them, the girls, amounting to
eighty percent of my students, took
well to these fables, where as the
boys, making up the rest of the
student body which is not as obvious
as one may think as one never knows in
which category to place lady boys,
find fables too soft and too simple.

After teaching sentence structures,
simple sentences and compound
sentences, a simple exercise of writing
your own fables becomes quite
entertaining. Some students not getting
the memo that they no longer required
to do this for homework already had their
fables written, but more on these later.

The Thai students seem to have little
grasp of fables and need to be reminded
frequently of the absolute necessity of
a moral in their story. Upon finally
grasping this point, the girls will either
re write a version of a fable already
covered in a previous class,
or will succeed in making up a rather
sweet story with a pre told moral
stuck on the end. The boys will write
a blood curdling story and will ask me
for a moral to the story which they will
then share round the class.

All in all one should count themselves lucky
if they have a single unique fable. Where
this trend differs somewhat is with one before
mentioned scenario and with the Chinese
students. These students seem to grasp
the idea of fables very easily and in this
simple exercise they all, all three of them,
rewrote in English a Chinese fable, which
was stellar work on their part. The other
exception to the trend is where students
pre wrote their fables. The level of English
of my students is not all that high, but
somehow the majority of pre-written
fables were of excellent English, the best
one being one girl who re wrote a chapter
from the Sherlock Holmes book, which they
have been reading in another class, and
simply handed that in as a fable, baffled
I did not wont to through it back in the
face of the girl who wrote it, as she is
one of the students who does not work
very hard, so I simply asked her what the
moral of this story was, and she wrote
"be satisfied with what you have"
quoted from a previous fable covered
that week.

The plagiarised chapter in
question tells of Sherlock Holmes
asking a man for a cheque for the
payment he had put up for someone
to find the whereabouts of his son
and the identity of his sons kidnapper.
In his shrewd manner Holmes tells lord
whatsymagic the whereabouts of his son
and that the kidnapper was the lord
himself, upon which the Lord leans
down and writes the cheque.

Post bows and claps of hands, lunch
done with I set out in a rather damp
afternoon to open yet another bank
account at a specific branch into which
work will eventually pay my salary. This
damp afternoon had the unfortunate
reaction to turn into a very wet one.
Fortunately the Thais in all their ingenuity
have come up with something to protect
oneself against these frequent tropical
downpours. These take the shape of
a poncho and look like a flimsy rubbish bag
(trash bag) with arms and a hood and have earned
themselves the endearing nickname of
'plastic condoms'.

So off I set wrapped in a see through
light blue plastic bag, which leaves my
legs and feet open to the elements.
It is rather futile for me to pint out
how wet these later parts of my body
got, but what is rather more painful
to bare my mind upon is the fact that
I was wearing my hand made Italian
leather shoes. When the skies decide
that it will open up and make all the
poor beings below it more miserable
by making them a little wet it does
not go about it by half measures. It
rather likes to make sure that everything
and everyone has more then his fair share
of absolute soaking. This tends to cause
great big lakes to form on and around the
roads, and if it isn't bad enough that if a
car would have the affront to pass you
while you are peacefully enjoying your
umpteenth shower of the day on the back
of your motorised bicycle, and sending
a veritable tidal wave onto the entirety
of your person triply making sure that
you are not missing out on this fine
blessing from the sky, you may find
yourself blurred by the water covering
both your helmet and your eye glasses
driving through one of these newly formed
lagoons. This has the unfortunate effect,
felt by anyone driving a manual or even
a semi manual motorised bicycle, to have
two more tsunami sized waves rush up around
the front wheel and utterly immerse in water
both feet, which until then had made a good
stand at keeping dry. There is only so much
hand made Italian leather shoes can put up with.

In these circumstances one tries to keep
a brave face on, back straight, shoulders
back, head held high with an air expressing
how delightful one feels in these conditions.

one eventually triumphs over these perils
and soon enough arrives at some set
destination, bank, home.
On arriving home we hope to find peace
for the mind and rest for the tired and weary
corpse which are the remains of his former
self, but when one is most in need it seldom
seems to happen as we could wish. upon
crossing the threshold of my home I am
greeted by the famished mosquitoes, who have
been eagerly waiting since my departure for
another go at my smooth and delicate flesh.
If this isn't enough cause for concern as I
fight to remove my sodden clothes and
empty the wells of water which have formed
inside from my hand made Italian leather
shoes, I get another disagreeable surprise
in the form of two military types claiming
to be from the police army and wanting
contributions from the peace loving members
of this community to fund medical
apparatus for the wounded soldiers of their
very unpopular war against Muslim separatist
in the southern provinces of Thailand.

Forgetting manners due to the loss of
personal restraint and the awareness of
common courtesy, I decline these chaps
invitation to step into my own house and
manage to curtail their advances,
succeeding in turning them away, though
they assure me that they will be back
once I am more disposed to receive them,
I lock the gates and sit happily in my
fortress ready to thwart whoever else
might dare trespass my solitude.

RRB 11 XI 2010

In Search Of Sunrise 7 Asia

We walked like in a dream, the moon resplendent

We bowed and kissed its soft moist lips

‘Till the night was dark, ‘till the night was dark

We made sand castles and covered our bodies with it.

Rolling in clouds we never stopped sleeping

Dreaming of tomorrow we searched for sunrise

In that blissful moment of purity between dark and light

Our laughter and our cries were still ringing in our eyes.

The Joys of yesterday, the passions of today

Never stopping us, always higher always further

“Don’t let yesterday hold you back” my motto to my motor

The smoke ensued from behind me, clouding my companions.

“No one will stop us” they screamed into the night

And hence they came from behind the smoky divide

We laughed, we danced

We were merry, we were drunk.

Our bodies unfolded into a million sentimental tones

Hues of love, of hate, hues of anger and of happiness

We were lost in stars in an ever existing chain of links

Never folding nor breaking, we were free, we were young, younger than before.

We were haunted by our past

But we kept running further into a mist of bliss

Further into a mirth of madness

No one could hold us back.

We sung, we drank, we danced and we laughed

Higher then before would this ever last

Would this be the end of us

Could we be young forever?

Slowly we crept into life remembering our mere existence

But we were fuelled by madness

Sweating away the pain and the past

Our face was our joy.

Like our contemporaries, we rejected it all

The pressures, the expectations, the obligations

“We will never stop” we shouted

“‘Till we search for sunrise in the bliss of eternity”.

RRB 22 X 2010

Motorised thoughts

It hit me today, as I was driving home from that fine
establishment known as the Prince of Songkla University,
which I also refer to as "my employer", that I was living
the dream. For so long I dreamed of living and working
in different countries where I could absorb the culture,
and see how other people lived. I only realised today, as I
drove home from work, that that is exactly what I am now
doing. Living, working and absorbing the local culture.
Somehow when your dreams realise themselves they
never quite look like you imagined.
But I guess that that is part of the adventure, setting
out with a dream and learning to recognise it when it
comes to blossom.

I have to apologise to all my dedicated readers, as I
realise that so far my "in the bog" pondering have not
once occurred "in the bog". I do intend to put journals
in all three "rest rooms" in my house for one and all to
write their common day thoughts and epiphanies, the
best ones of which would be featured on this bog.
This has yet to substantiate itself and has only been
delayed due to restricted funds. But this I hope, my
dear readers, will be redressed without undue delay.

Un temps de Canard!

Some of my favourite times here are those
misty grey days, where it rains but not the
torrential type, more gentle and calm. I


like to climb the hill which is behind my
house and look out over the island to the
sea and the other islands beyond. there
is something lovely about these grey days,
they are refreshing, that's what it is, a
break finally from the incessant sunshine.