The first New Year's resolution

Can you believe I've never ever made New Year's resolutions?

I don't know why.
Probably because I usually spend the first days of the year in a food/hangover coma and in general in a partial lobotomy condition on my couch, surely not thinking about productivity goals.

No but seriously, I would really like to know how many of you use the first days of the year to think about sparkling wishful plans that will bring you to a better bikini body/job/mind peace/etc by Summer holidays time.
Ah! I can see you all in your pajamas on January 2nd, day-3 hair, snacking on calorie-bomb leftovers trying to remember amidst the fog of a 2 day-long hangover (3 days if you're 30+ years old) who the hell was that guy you kissed at the New Year's Eve party.
Those girls who spend the 1st of January making lists of goals and the 2nd of January exercising in the gym and juicing to start the year with a healthy green detox exist only on the pages of glossy magazines. Or at least, if they're real, I've never met them.
If you're one of these mythological creatures please explain me how you manage to do this, because to me you're a big mystery.

(Actually I just realized I don't usually make New Year's resolutions simply because I'm lazy).

So this year I am apparently skipping my No New Year Resolution (NNYR) habit. And as a good Taurus, breaking my routines makes me feel nervous but I kinda feel good about it this time.
(and OK, technically it's not New Year yet, but 2017 is just a couple of weeks away and we're all already thinking what to wear for New Year's Eve anyway).

(in full Al style I just wrote like 300 words without saying anything yet, or better without saying what this resolution is all about. Sometimes I amaze myself with my own logorrhoea, really).

So my resolution is: in 2017 I'm going to BLOG A LOT. And DRAW A LOT.
That's it.

So what is the reason of this SHOCKING revelation, and what makes it so different from the other 2567 times I made such a statement? (I guess you can find at least 3 of these times in the limited amount of posts of this blog if you scroll behind)

Well to begin with, I really really miss writing and drawing.
I've tried meditation, I've tried being more social with strangers, I've tried to stop smoking and cut down carbs and telling myself I'm beautiful in front of the mirror every morning (I think my new therapist - who is amazing BTW - is making me become a bit of a hippie) but I still miss what would really make me happy and healthy.
I miss writing and drawing. A lot.
There is just nothing that makes me as happy as drawing does and there is nothing that gives me more feeling of completeness than rounding a drawing with a post full of random ramblings.

Secondly, I'm sooooo boooored.
I spend way too much time at work and the rest of my time doing primary biological functions such as sleeping and eating.
So what is Al's idea to counteract infinite boredom? Do something completely different.
Something that would project me into an imaginary world of colors and beauty.
Something like drawing.
(Fashion drawing, that is)

Three, I am so freaking lonely that it's even difficult to explain how lonely I am.
I'm not talking about general loneliness. I mean. I'm pretty happy with my boyfriend and my cats.
But you know, sometimes I would need to talk about those girly, frivolous little things that I used to share with my girlfriends back in Belgium in front of a bottle or three of Cava.
Since I just moved to a new city/country/continent I have just one friend here (Mari I love you <3) and my boyfriend and my cats couldn't care less (and rightfully so) about stuff like my new favourite mascara or how my diet is doing wonders...
I just need to express that light, maybe a bit shallow side of me, like I would have done in front of those that bottles of Cava.
Even if nobody will read me, I just need to tell.

And to put a very expensive solemn seal on this whole resolution thing, I bought a new Macbook Pro so at least I don't have the excuse of not having a dedicated computer to work with my art and blog and stuff (it might sound weird but I really used this a lot as an excuse lately to justify my artistic laziness to myself).

AND I also bought a scanner (can you believe I didn't have a scanner??) which allows me to scan my drawings in the comfort of my home or even my bed (yay couch potato mode, my favourite). I finally don't have to run through half city to find a decent print shop or use the scanner at my work (which honestly is quite shitty).

AND a private source told me in all secrecy that Santa is bringing me a graphic tablet for Christmas, and I really can't wait to explore digital painting (I have the big expectation of being able to paint kind of anywhere anytime thanks to this, even while I'm couch potato-ing at the end of a long day or on a plane flying somewhere for work, which is kind of hard to do with traditional watercolors, paints, papers and the whole messy shebang).

Alright wrote too much, gotta go find a nice drawing idea for this post, I'm off.

And while I am going to get that bottle of Cava tell me, what are your resolutions?
(Don't tell me go to the gym and eat healthy, because I don't believe you :p).

xxx Al

Singapore bound!

Drawing inspiration: Singapore beauty and fashion influencer Yoyo Cao, a dress by the Singapore designer Ong Shunmugam and, of course, the Singapore lion

Yep, that is what the title of this post is saying: I'm moving to Singapore.
(it's so cool when I write it like this black on white because seriously, I still have problems believing it...)

It all happened pretty fast.
I went from "Oh, yeah, my boyfriend and I sometimes talk about moving outside of Europe for a while, you know, just for a different experience" to "WTF my flight to Singapore is in less than three weeks and I still have to pack my house" in a matter of a few months.
(I voluntarily omit the daily stress bunny/freak out episodes of the few months I mentioned above...)

I still don't know why we decided to go for Singapore as experience-out-of-Europe destination, honestly.
For sure, the fact that both of us found a job there almost at the same time helped... Of course the prospect of a very juicy salary and the promise of a boosted CV were very attractive too.

But personally, the main reason is that I'm terribly curious.
Just the idea of living in a Country so different from what I've been used to for all my life is enough to make my chest explode with excitement and anticipation. The habits, the colors, the smells, the lost in translation moments, the new friends, discovering every single corner of a completely new and unexplored city... And of course also the bad things, like not being able to get used to the steamy humid heat, getting lost in the city exactly when you need to arrive in time for an appointment, feeling lonely and missing home (like desperately needing a Duvel, my favourite mainstream Belgian beer, to quench a moment of nostalgia and bursting into tears because a Duvel costs 22 Singapore dollars - yes, TWENTY-TWO = Fifteen fucking euros-)... Things that are not that bad in the end, because they're all part of the discovery and the process of getting used to a new home.
I just can't wait for all this to happen.

Also, I'm  slightly obsessed with Japan, but I never contemplated moving there for many reasons. But hey, at least I'll be in Asia! And in Singapore there is an onsen. They have some of the best ramen restaurants in the world. There is a whole Japanese food supermegamarket, sort of a made in Tokyo Eataly (if you'll be looking for me two hours after my flight from Frankfurt has landed, you can find me there *insert thumb-up emoji*).
No more hours spent hunting for Japanese and Korean cosmetics and skin care on untranslatable Japanese websites just to find out they don't ship anywhere in Europe: I'm gonna have it all there, a ride of MRT away, offered to me on inviting shiny shelves by impeccable tiny graceful smiling (sorry for the series of adjectives, couldn't pick up a favorite) Singaporean shop assistants.
There is a huge Kinokuniya, full of manga and Japanese books, where I can get lost while I wait for my wagyu dinner.

And the shopping (mostly, the window shopping)... Getting lost on Orchard Road, through the doors of Prada and the mirrors of Valentino, admiring weird Japanese designs and countless Bao Bao bags through the windows of Issey Miyake... My pain for loving fashion and not being able to afford it will reach a totally new level of self-inflicted torture. Can't wait.

What say you, I sound a bit shallow because I talk only about food, make-up and clothes? Naaaaa...

No but wait, there is more.

Let's talk about the islands of Malaysia.
Like, Pulau Rawa, just to name one. Apparently you can go there from Singapore on Friday night by a short minibus trip, spend the weekend on a white beach and in transparent blue waters and get home by Sunday night. Which means you don't even need to take a day off to be in a tropical paradise.
I can't even imagine it honestly.
I mean I live in Belgium guys. You need a raincoat to sit on the beach.
Come on...
And what about Bali, Thailand, Borneo all a short flight away...

OK I admit I'm saying all of this just to try to forget I just signed a contract that binds me to work for a minimum of 42 hours a week, with 18 days of holidays a year (might sound very normal to Americans, but for someone who works in Belgium this will be pretty hard to get used to...)
But it's OK.
I have an onsen I can go to every day.
Everything will be alright.

Now, going back packing.
Which leads me to the next post's topic (just hope the next post won't be again in two months...): how can a fashionista move to the other side of the world with only two suitcases and nothing else? If you have an answer let me know because I'm tempted to book a last minute cargo container honestly I don't...

xx Al

Lesson learned (or "of Google and break-ups")

There is a lesson I learned the hard way, after my (in)famous break-up.
And, after a conversation with my sister about this topic, I promised myself as a New Year resolution: never forget this lesson.

But to tell you what this lesson is I'll have to start from the beginning.

So what is the main thing you do in the months days after a break-up? I'll tell you: Google.
It initially happens because you realize that your friends and family will shun you and never talk to you ever again if you dare to ask the same question for the 346676564th time.
So you turn to Google.
"Because Google will know what I have to do, Google will KNOW what is gonna happen."
And then it becomes an addiction.

So this is more or less the history of google searches in the first month after a break-up (or a divorce).

Chronologically:

"how to overcome break-up"

"will he change his mind after break-up"

"should I text my ex"

"what to eat when you don't want to eat"

"methods of suicide"

"suicide helpline"

" how to make him regret break-up"

"how to find new boyfriend"

"too much alcohol after break-up normal?"

"how long break-up pain lasts"

"single after 30 will I ever get married"

"break-up desperate help"

"WILL I DIE ALONE???"

The outcome of all this is to basically prove you that every self-help website is telling you the same obvious stuff (find a hobby, see your friends, go out to find someone else. Wow, genius!) and the only effect of visiting Oprah's website compulsively is just to make you feel like everyone else is so good at handling their traumas and getting their shit together except you.

Long story short the leaves are falling, the snow is coming, the birds are singing: a year has passed and you find yourself still googling stuff like:

"do I need therapist after break-up"

There must be something wrong here. There must be something very wrong when after a year you're still treating damn google like an oracle and source of all wisdom.
After three years a while I realized what was going wrong. I realized why I couldn't find peace and I needed to ask compulsively my friends, my sister, my mother, my aunts, my grandma, my dad, the bottom of my empty glass of wine AND google the same questions over and over again.

And the reason was: I needed a solution. But there simply was no solution.

I needed a solution to feel good fast, because I was surrounded by people and situations that were constantly telling me how I should feel better already, how I shouldn't be selfish and think only about my pain, how I should always put a smile on when I'm at a social event even if I the only thing I want is to burst into tears and scream that it's not fair, how I should behave at work like nothing happened because otherwise it's not professional.

So I needed a quick and easy fix to make myself acceptable from society again and to find a way to make the pain slightly more bearable.
And google is so good at quick and easy fixes.

But no. It doesn't work like that.
There is one thing that no google link will tell you, and it took me three years of therapy and painful conversations with my inner self to realize it.

That is the lesson, probably the biggest I've learned, and somehow I hope that you, unknown girl who is googling "how to overcome break-up" will stumble upon this page and will read this.
Dear unknown girl, I hope that this will help you to save the 40 euros a week I spent in shrinks and spend them in shoes the real important things instead.

The lesson is: you have to allow yourself to feel like shit. Simple as that.
You don't have to google how to feel better because there is simply no way to feel better so soon. And you don't have to. You have the right to feel as bad as you want in the ways that you feel more suitable for you and as long as you need. 

We live in a society that makes you feel like you have to be perfect all the time. A society that makes you feel like you have to please everyone around you with your amazing abilities and extremely well developed savoire faire: your parents, your boss, your friends, the friends of your friends, the attendees of a work meeting, your colleagues... A society that at the first sign of stress or sadness pushes you to look for a psychologist, a yoga course, a cat cafe' for pet therapy and three new hobbies to keep yourself busy. This is a society that doesn't even contemplate the concept of "recovery time". It's a society that, basically, doesn't allow you to feel like shit.
And the worst part is, we are so used to this mentality that if we do actually feel like shit (which is actually very human and natural and healthy) we feel guilty .

The key is to remember one very simple thing: something bad happened to you, you are ENTITLED to feel bad about it.

That's it, this is the lesson I learned, and I feel like it will help me a lot in many other parts of my life and in my next break-ups (yep, I'm totally Queen Optimism).

Less Google, more acceptance of my weaknesses. And a little patience.

And happy New Year everyone :)

xx Al

Hi, it's me, I'm back

The dress is a Dior Couture (by Mr. FashionGenius Raf Simmons) as worn by Emma Watson at the Golden Globes 2014

Saturn in opposition to Taurus.
That's what was about to happen in the year 2012. And Saturn is a slow bitch so it would stay in opposition to my sign for around two years. So the horoscope said.
Revolutions, tragedies and a gloomy mood like a perennial pre-menstrual syndrome were about to happen.

But you know, I'm a scientist I don't believe in the horoscope.

No, OK, wait.

I'm a scientist but I am also a woman, and my late 20s/early 30s are so full of estrogens storms that I am becoming a gynic stereotype: sometimes I say things that could easily be taken straight from a mediocre someecard and my life for quite a while looked like Bridget Jones meets Sex and The City v2.0.
And I read the horoscope.
I am a faithful follower of the monthly-Susan Miller/weekly-Rob Brezsny religion.
But in secret. Because a molecular biologist is supposed to believe in proteins, genomes and experimentally-verified facts (preferably supported by sound statistics), not in some pseudo-science telling you that planets and stars are deciding your destiny... So don't tell anyone.

But let's go back to 2012.
I was secretly fearing the soon-to-come rage of Saturn on my stable, quite happy life.
I had a boyfriend for 10 years, we were starting to have the marriage&kids (full package) kind of talks. I was doing my PhD in Medicine (which wasn't going that well at the time but still, it worked out in the end) in Ghent, Belgium, which is a city I deeply love. I had a fashion blog, "The Red Dot", and sharing my illustrations and pictures with my readers was giving me extreme pleasure and satisfaction.
Art was a part of me, drawing was a very important side of my identity.

And then the bomb exploded.