Pancake Party

One does not realise what a blessing 'average health' is until one becomes ghastly ill. Simply put, "you don't know what 'chu got till it's gone" or in my case, until you have norovirus. The second half of last week was a completely write-off when I caught the highly infectious norovirus (yay!) and passed it on to my housemate who then took it a step further and then developed gastroenteritis. The damned house was like The Masque Of The Red Death, with everyone spasming, shuddering, and calling out for sweet, blessed release. All I can say is...thank God we have a bathroom each to ourselves. 

Overdramatic and gory imagery aside, the moment it all cleared up I seized---with newfound appreciation for the simple joy of no longer having to sleep by the toilet---my rediscovered freedom and the car keys, and sped away to the other side of town for a wholesome little Sunday brunch. Oh, the fresh air! Oh, to travel! Oh, to be able to operate heavy machinery!

The ecstatic face of one who's finally seen the sun after 3 painful days of abject physical punishment.

I picked up my mistresses from Dalston, to share with me my newly acquired freedom...

Barnsey hitting the roof hahaha.

In lieu of a group shot I (un)skilfully photoshopped Lucy in.

We arrived safely---why shouldn't we?---at Carlisle Mansions just in time for a light brunch, drinks, and  chatter.

Nick hard at work in the kitchen, making his famous pancakes. A man who can cook knows his way into a woman's heart.


After half a week of surviving eating only medication and Vitacoco, these carbs were a welcome sight. Nutella, syrup, whipped cream, blueberries and strawberries...oh blessed day.

Any relation to you, Lady Butterworth

With Nick, who's so tall I have to stand on my tippy toes just so both our heads would fit in the picture.

I love wholesome, chilled out Sunday house parties, it's all incredibly laid-back, with none of the usual posturing and attempted one-uppance that comes with the territory of Friday nights at the club. Live simply and without stress, I find myself thinking now that I'm a bit older and much more mellow.

Oh, and pancakes are to be involved at all house parties. Of course.

April 29, 2013

Pancake Party

One does not realise what a blessing 'average health' is until one becomes ghastly ill. Simply put, "you don't know what ...

Sunday Wise

I spend Sunday at the Ivy Club, at the very kind invitation and hospitality of Hamish. T'was a nice change from having a lie-in (read---hangover) and feeling serious religious guilt about missing church service, as I usually do. It was of course Sunday Wise, a monthly event at The Club at The Ivy, "for those who like to think while they drink" with "an exclusive line up of speakers, innovators and artists on the last Sunday of every month". Oh dear, I copied and pasted that from Sunday Wise's Twitter, but like i explained to Amber about the popularity of Tumblr and Pinterest quotes "They succinctly and eloquently sum up what I'm trying to say, kind of like carrying this handbag to express my personality". Oh god, did I liken fashion to quotes and to Twitter blurbs? Brain, how do you make these leaps? 

Being a good friend, I asked The Right Dishonourable Max Clarke (a courtesy he sometimes inadvertently fails to extend in kind *glares*) to join us for an afternoon of talks, networking, and Sunday lunch.

Typically caustic, all day he mocked me and called me a hipster. And for that I suitably punished him all day by punching the massive taxi-wound bruise on the back of his leg. Until he threatened to sneeze all over my glorious hair, from which point I was sure to administer damage to his bruise from a safe distance.

I had the last word, singing (screaming) along to Taylor Swift on the ride home. Trouble-trouble-trouble-oh-oh-OH! Michiekins, aren't you glad you're no longer my daily torture toy? 

The Ivy Club greets us with their iconic glass elevator and stunning orchid displays my mother would kill for. To say nothing of the tiny, sun-drenched courtyard filled with green that lifted my spirits and matched the clothes I wore.

Hamish and the ever elusive Viktor, Chancellor of The Last Tuesday Society whose shop of the same name is responsible for the curious and morbid artefacts that decorate my apartment. I've lost count of the people who've tried to steal my taxidermied crow and tiger cub skull...

Steve Nallon shows us why he's the best Baroness Thatcher impersonator there is; not only is his impression of her voice frighteningly and hilariously accurate but the resemblance (in drag) is uncanny.

I nearly split a seam laughing at his impression of The Dowager Countess of Grantham at lunch, "What is a weekend?" Oh, I was transported back to the good old days when Downton Abbey was still a happy place and everyone was still alive. Sybil! Matthew! *sobs*

Mr. Nallon doing what he does best.

Max Wallis treated us to a reading of his poetry, from his poetry film with Harper's Bazaar about the fashion world. Only he can wax lyrical about fabrics and buttons and make it sound so emotive. 

Amber Atherton talks about the impact and popularity of inspirational and motivational quotes. Many of the examples she presented I've spotted, pinned, and reblogged on Tumblr and Pinterest. Oh quotes! They are the accessory for the thinker, just as your shoes speak about your person, the inspirational quotes you reblog express the change you wish to see in yourself. I for one would prefer to be judged not by my threads but by the things I post on my Tumblr...oh wait...maybe used to be chockfull of darkness and nihilism. 

Viktor tells us a macabre little bedtime story, from the Brother's Grimm, in his imitable way. His singing about the boy who was killed, eaten, and turned into a bird will haunt me..."My mother she killed me, my father he ate me, my sister she buried me..." And they all lived happily ever after! According to medieval standards, that is.

The hilarious and incredibly inappropriate comedian Vikki Stone  titillated us with dirty ditties, filthy songs, and singled out Max for a song about, um, *whispers* manhood size.

To roaring applause, she sang a rousing rendition of the Jurassic Park song which will now be stuck in my head all week until I watch the movie at least 3 times to exorcise it.

  Danana! Dananana, danananaaaa----!   

In between the talks and comedy we sat down to a very civilised late lunch. Civilised as opposed to what, one asks? That, we do not speak of.

Making a first impression with my business cards, which went down a treat with feminists everywhere. The illustrations are from my Meat series, which is all about turning male chauvinism around and treating men as trophies based on their good looks. 

Beautiful little appetisers which I was mocked for taking photos of. I AM NOT A HIPSTER, but then again a hipster would say that wouldn't they? And now we're going to steal your flute sound bite!

Pretty little parcels of food, perfect for lighter summer meals.

I enjoyed the crispy pork belly.

Out of focus photo of crab, because I am bad at being a hipster.

Chocolate souffle and popcorn ice-cream. Popcorn is my new favourite flavour, and definitely deserving of being a food group on its own.

Ending with a blurry photo of Viktor and I.

Loved Sunday Wise, I'll be back for more.

April 22, 2013

Sunday Wise

I spend Sunday at the Ivy Club, at the very kind invitation and hospitality of Hamish . T'was a nice change from having a lie-in (rea...

かげほしのバッグスワグ [ 漫画家·エディション ]

Literally---Kagehoshi's Bag Swag [Cartoonist Edition].

Yes, Kagehoshi (Japanese for Star Shadow) is/was the pseudonym I gave myself when I first started drawing comics. Laugh away, I bear no shame for the affectations of 13 year old me. Nande? Back then manga was all the rage in Malaysia, and it was cool to have a Japanese nickname. When I think of my manga obsession, the stupid amounts of money I spent on tankobon (the original Japanese versions mind you) and then Japanese language classes so I could read the tankobon I bought...and as for the bits I couldn't read on my own, I'd bring up the fan-translated English transcripts on the internet...I faint. I still pride myself on my complete collection of 3x3 Eyes manga, all 32 (or 33?) volumes of it. In mint condition. Japanese edition. I have a warped idea of what achievement is. 

Demo! I have much to thank manga for, it has influenced my drawing style and shaped my drawing skills. Teaching myself to draw comics by copying my favourite artist's styles and eventually evolving into my own, from the age of 13-20...that's some form of dedication, right?

I dropped the name Kagehoshi, and expanded my comic intake to include Western graphic novels and manhwa (both Korean & Chinese). My illustration style reflects this eclectic mix of influences, as does the contents of my work handbag and choice of accessories. 

かげほしのバッグスワグ [ 漫画家·エディション ] // Kagehoshi no Bag Swag (Mangaka Edition) 

Handbag: Anya Hindmarch Earl Bottom Pinch tote
Pencil case: New Look Pop Art clutch
Notebook: Topshop
iPad 1 (old-school) wallpaper: CLOVER (Clamp)
Papers: IKEA sketchpad, Daler Rowney Fine Grain cartridge paper, Goldline tracing paper
Stationery: COPIC drawing pens, bamboo brush, Faber Castell ink, mechanical pencil
Graphic novel inspiration du jour: The Vesuvius Club (written AND graphic novel edition)

I can be infamously lazy---ie. not bothering to use any of my many skincare products---but when it comes to dressing the part, I am certain to make my accessories match my job. I an illustrator or cartoonist? All will be clear, soon.

I love The Vesuvius Club, the sardonic wit, delicious decadence, and unabashed muchness is all I ever hope to convey in my writing and drawing. And that Lucifer Box is a dashing, bisexual, Edwardian-era portraitist slash England's sexiest secret's not so much wanting to be with him, but wanting to actually be him

おまけ (EXTRA) ! 

I found my Sailormoon cards!

Now if only I can find my Yu-Gi-Oh! and Pokémon trading cards, then all will be right in my world. 

おたくいつまでも (Geek for life) ! 


April 17, 2013

かげほしのバッグスワグ [ 漫画家·エディション ]

Literally--- Kagehoshi's Bag Swag [Cartoonist Edition] . Yes, Kagehoshi (Japanese for Star Shadow) is/was the pseudonym I gave mys...