Job, Life and me in the middle.

The things you see when stuck in a promotion job.

Channelling Asian Look for
Asia Wellness Programm
at convention

Passion for Fashion - ps. I love you

So, dear readers, I don't think I've written anything about fashion yet in my blog so I'm gonna make a start today. I've always loved fashion. It started as a young girl when, out of sheer desperation, I began sewing clothes for my barbies. I grew up in Portugal so you didn't really have toy shops with fancy barbie clothes. You pretty much depended on relatives and friends importing them when they came to visit. As I was so keen to play with my two barbies and it bored me to death to see them in the same clothes all the time I sat by my mum as she sewed clothes for her singing gigs for herself and bagged the left-over scraps for my own, hand-sewn, tiny, pretty barbie outfits.

During my university time I made my own ball gowns and ties for the men and even the costumes for our final performance. I loved it. I loved the creativity, the fabrics, how the dresses evolved and changed over the course of sewing them. And I still love it now although I don't have a sewing machine at home and I never sew things anymore. I guess I just don't have the time.

Instead I have kept my passion for fashion alive in my every day. Although I don't always dress up (especially not for work) I do love it when we got out or for a special event when I get my best frock out and spend my time on my hair and make-up and relish every minute of it. I don't really own expensive things, neither my clothes nor my make-up are fancy and expensive but the combinations always make the difference.
So I watched ps. I love you yesterday with my mum. And I have to say, Hilary Swank has never been a favourite of mine. But that film made me cry and laugh and gaze in wonder at her character's wardrobe. So feminine, light and still bold and special. And her hair: elegant and simple. So tomorrow I'm going to the hairdressers and have put together an outfit for my next "performance" ;) It's a mixture of fifties petticoat, Audrey Hepburn elegance and Stepford's housewife.

Will keep ya posted. Am not up to date with the fashionworld at the moment. Saw Roberto Cavalli's show: interesting. But widening my horizon to Chanel, van Laack and Vivienne Westwood at the moment. How I'm gonna get them all under one hat yet, I don't know.
But I'll be sure to tell you soon ;)

And until then: here is the fantastic scene out of ps. I love you with Gerard Butler dancing. Yum!

Nan's Crackerjack Café and Milkshakes (1)

Following on from Friends, Gabba and Cosy Nights.... Promise to also find a way to categorise my posts to enable easier reading for you all ;)

The next day Lily had a day off. It wasn’t always easy working freelance. She found herself spending months with so much work: modelling, acting, translation work and the job at the boutique followed by a slump where she earned no money and had to use her savings in order to cover the most important costs. Frankly, she hated it. But on the rare occasion of having a day off, Lily liked nothing more than to meet with her friends and chat about life, men and probably shoes. 

Lily had decided to meet the girls in one of her favourite little cafés: Nan’s Crackerjack Café also known also Nan’s Crack (Awful, I know, but hilarious!). It was a fantastic little place. The owner, Patty Jackson, was a brand of her own. She seemed to have got stuck in the 50’s with her permed and perfectly styled jet-black hair complete with quiff and livid-red flower; flaming red lips; thick black eyeliner under perfectly arched eyebrows; heaving bosoms caged in a dark-blue and white polka-dot dress, covered scarcely by a crisp white apron; suspender tights in skin tone with a black seam and killer red heels. At the age of fourty-nine Patty had an enviable figure and was the life and soul of every party around town. Today, Patty’s kids were hanging about too. They were two adorable little things, who both dressed in the unmistakable fifties look. Jethro, the youngest of the two, had his hair slicked back expertly with pomade into a ducktail (John Travolta eat your heart out) and wore a tiny baseball jacket and dark blue Levis doubled at the hem. His sister Judy, loved pink. Everything had to be pink. Appropriately she was sporting a pink and white polka-dot ensemble with a white belt clinched at the waist, tiny white ballerinas and her mum had gone to the trouble of sewing the words Judy on the back of the gorgeous little leather jacket she was wearing. With her golden-brown locks loosely tied back and teased into an elvis quiff at the front she looked fit to take over the world if she wanted to. 

Lily also liked to make herself look pretty when she went to Nan’s Crackerjack Café (whose name had come about from Patty’s nan. She had owned a cracker manufacturing company with her husband, Jack Jackson. No one questioned the name of the café/diner but the nickname had meanwhile reached Patty who needless to say was less impressed!) Nan’s Crackerjack Café meanwhile had an outrageous list of special, famous guests but Patty liked to keep things simple. She didn’t roll out red carpets, nor did she adhere to special wishes for coconut water, organic baby carrots or colour coordinated M&Ms. She served great food, a mix of home cooking and diner specialities and mixed a mean mojito. From hot chocolate in the winter to fresh smoothies or cola floats in the summer, Patty stuck to her menu and strongly opposed to special wishes (which normally resulted in the celeb being kicked out by her burly husband; Grant). 

Today Lily had decided to wear her pleated coral-orange knee-length skirt with a crisp white blouse and a navy cardigan. She had decided to wear quite thick tights and little booties too alongside her winter coat that kept wonderfully warm in the bitter winter they were having and reached way over her knees but unfortunately looked like a sleeping bag!Lily brushed a few flakes of snow off her eyelashes and stomped the remnants of slush off her boots as she unbuttoned her coat and tried to make out her ladies, Riza and Natty. Nan’s Crackerjack was so wonderfully whacky and simultaneously heavenly homely. The walls were a gorgeous mix of turquoise and dusky pink and speckled with memorabilia that reminded of Elvis, the Beatles, children’s tea partys, ladybirds, Dame Edna and a Las Vegas show meets Cher meets Elton John’s glasses collections. From the big-bosomed, Beryl Cook inspired salt and pepper shakers to the Pop-Art Napkins and the red and white checkered table cloths Patty had managed to combine a thousand looks from all eras and make them look holistic and cosy. 

Lily inhaled deeply as a fresh apple crumble made its way past her on the white gloved hand of a waitress dressed in a sailor outfit with petticoat and navy boat hat. “Mmmm, that smells delicious…” Lily muttered under her breath, her mouth watering. She made her way past the first tables; artists, actors, writers, families, couples and even a few businessmen. Patty really pulled in a wide crowd. Finally she found a table upstairs in the attic space of the café: her favourite part. The attic ceiling was slightly skewed and had rustical tables made of old tree stumps and car motors with glass plates on them. There were hardly any chairs that were alike: it was a mixture of sofas, armchairs, swivel chairs, highchairs and interestingly painted ikea chairs (Patty had once had a creative phase in which she had painted everything that came into her hands!). Lily found a table made of three very worn (and interestingly painted!) mannequins with a glass plate on top. It was covered with an old lace tablecloth with napkins decorated with ladybirds next to bright yellow plates and tall glasses with lime slices drawn on them. Perfect. She slid onto a highchair that resembled a hand. Just as she was tucking her coat away she saw Riza legging it up the steps, panting like an athlete. “Lily! Lily, Lily, Lily! Oh my GOD!” she squealed as Lily buried her head in her hands with a smile and slowly pushed the chair back. Riza shoved a swivel chair aside, almost knocking it over, slammed into Lily and squeezed her tight. 

Don't forget to check out my youtube channel too:  themisslisa1984

Growing old in Love.

A little something I wrote as I observed an older couple, thickly in love and wonderfully caring towards each other. Something we should all wish for and work towards.

Picture by misslisa
Original: Käthe Kollwitz

  Visit more here.

youtube: I'm giving you a go...

As of today, I shall attempt to play some of my written word onto youtube too. I have so many papers lying around filled with poetry and words dancing across the lines. And I guess I have come far enough since those relatively morbid and sometimes dark lyrical musings to share them with you all. Sometimes we need distance to be able to stand above things. So, enjoy and stay tuned (literally, cos I will be talking to you directly.)

Here it is: themisslisa1984 on youtube <-- just click here!

Your, Miss Lisa

True Blood - I miss you...

Hi y'all,

Cos I'm missing my daily dose of True Blood I've done a few cartoons to remind me of them. Eric, Sookie, Bill, Sam... I hope you guys come back again some time very soon...

Check out the characters here: True Blood Moopy.

A little smthg for on the go!

xx

Time to go Home

gapingvoid.com

Not only the skies have clouded over with grey. As the faces grow long and the eyes red I bury my face in my hands, rubbing my eyes over and over again, hoping it will make time pass faster. But as I look up I see that it isn’t over and that it is still too early to go home. Furiously I search my computer for a distraction. All the work I have to do, I’ve done. All the extra-work I could do, I’ve done. All the things I normally have no time for, I’ve done. All the things I don’t like doing, I’ve done. And now? Now I just have to face the music, my boredom and the ticking of the clock until it ends. I begin to wonder what it will feel like on the final day. Will I be overcome with relief? Anxiety? Both? I fix my gaze on the middle of my colleague’s table and I stare myself into a little daydream…

It happens more than often now that I drift off into my own little world whilst staring at my computer screen. I try to block out everything happening around me so that when asked whether I’ve noticed gossip, bad moods or other uncomfortable office chat I can say, “Nope, I was so involved in my work. I didn’t notice, sorry.” I don’t think about much in particular when I zone out. I just try to do it in order to ignore the horrible asylum of a business into which I voluntarily aspired to integrate myself. They are raising their voices now. It’s been like this all day; like chickens fighting over a piece of corn. One of them is in a very bad mood. I haven’t quite caught on to why yet but I get the feeling it’s a general bad mood brought on by life, relationship and a general “I’m in a bad mood cause I wanna be” feeling.

What to do? I could go to the toilet. That always wastes time. I will do that. The nice thing about going to the toilet is that when the air conditioning goes on, I bury my head in my lap, curling into half of a foetal position and everything drones out. Then I close my eyes and just breathe. No more office noises pounding my already weary head, no more yelling, aggravated tones of voices or task-driven workers albeit slavery.

I check the clock again. Time has passed quickly. I spent a few moments watching a “situation”. But time hasn’t passed quickly enough. I’m getting bored. I can’t find anything on the Internet to entertain myself. I’ve read and re-read the latest news, the older news, checked my mails again and again, looked through countless social media friend photos some of which I don’t even know. I am bored.

But anything could happen right now. Any minute my phone could ring and unexpectedly my client requires a million and one things from me. Any second now my boss could charge in and demand I do something for him. Any moment I could PLING! Oh no, I’ve got mail. My heart sinks. Do I look at it now? Do I ignore it? Do I muster up enough courage to stand above it and say “It’s fine, whatever it is. I can do it.” And so I do: I brave clicking on the evil eagle that unfolds its nasty wings over me day after day. Thank goodness, I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s sorted in minutes. I reply in full-flowing literature (because I have too much time on my hands) and finish it off with a Please do not hesitate to call, which I quickly regret. I get a reply with “Thanks. Will be in touch later.” I panic. Should I tell my client now already that I am leaving at six o’clock on the dot without looking back? Or should I play it cool. I decide to stay calm. I will keep my feet still until five-thirty and only then will I let the client know that I am off. Relieved I sink into my chair. Please don’t make me stay longer…

I’ve done it. I’ve written an e-mail to my client saying I will only be in until 18:00 but would LOVE to talk to him before then or check my mails in the evening. I’ve become tougher. It wasn’t always this way. I used to cave and sit and wait for that meaningless call; but not anymore. I feel relieved (as well as exhausted and yearning for a hot bath, chick flick and crisps). Not long now. The countdown has begun. I begin tidying my desk. Why not? I have nothing else to do. I’m not the only one who’s bored. My boss is flicking through a glossy magazine, tutting at too skinny minnies, shaking her head at outrageous outfits. I giggle to myself. She might actually sit here till this evening yet again although she has nothing to do. I’m not stupid anymore though: why be here when I can be home?

Not long now. I have pre-written mails that I will send a few minutes before I leave so that they can’t reach me after. The cleaning crew has moved in and are clearing all tables, shutting down the coffee machines and generally giving us the feeling we should get the heck out. Half an hour to go: what to do with myself?

Almost done: I’m like a dog waiting in front of the supermarket for his owner. Any minute now: nothing can go wrong. My client is informed. If he rings at 18:00 I will be curt but kind. The exhaustion is too great for me to go any longer. Home.

I’ve done it. I’ve charmingly chatted to my client and listened to all he wanted to say and get off his chest. It was a short but great conversation, I re-confirmed how we are ever so hard working and moving forward and of course we don’t need a week longer. My client is happy. And just as we are finishing the conversation he says “It’s 17:59 Miss: I won’t keep you any longer.” And I smile, and I’m even happier than before that I’ve been let off, I can go, I needn’t have a bad conscience. So I bounce out of the agency, happy to see the end of it for today. Tomorrow will come soon enough. But for now I am going home.

Friends, Gabba and Cosy Nights...

Following on from Friends, Homes and other Stuff...:

To say it looked like a bomb had hit it would be an insult to the bomb because it was far worse. There were clothes strewn over the floor, plates and cups randomly placed around the living room. There were egg cartons pinned against the wall in a long-lost effort to soundproof the room. As Fraser was a passionate painter and artist you would stumble upon really good pieces hidden under women’s underwear, stacks of unopened bills and other random unidentifiable objects. Lily wondered sometimes why he didn’t sell his paintings or do something with his talent. But she had long given up trying, as had Matt and apparently also Fraser himself.“Well, I’m hitting the town tonight. Not sure whether my unemployed money is on yet but should be a blast. Wicked night yesterday too; fell asleep on a couch in the club. At one point round six in the morning I got my wallet nicked but then it was great sounds til midday. Had a nice long sleep and now I just gotta think about where I’m gonna eat something…” he trailed off and started rifling through his pockets. “Oh yeah, they nicked my wallet. Oi Matt, can I use your phone? I just need to call my sis, yeah?”Matt looked at Lily who rolled her eyes and went about tidying the rest of the flat like she always did when she was slightly peeved and didn’t know what to do with herself.
Matt somewhat reluctantly gave Fraser the phone and stroked Lily’s back affectionately. “I really should start charging him per minute, huh?” Lily relaxed, smiled and enjoyed it as her heart melted a little. Matt was such a sweetheart. And he always had a way to make her laugh. “Tonight we’ll have a cosy night, ok? Just you and me. I’ll cook something nice and we’ll have a glass of wine. Ok?” Matt stopped her tidying and wrapped her in his arms. It was great having a man taller than her, Lily thought, it always made her feel so safe. “Ok,” she whispered into his chest.“Thanks mate, there you go.” Fraser appeared at the door with the phone in hand. “I’m gonna head off now. You don’t have ten quid you can lend me right?” Matt felt Lily tense again and rubbed her softly over her back. “No mate, afraid not,” Matt said, ushering Fraser out the door.“Bye Fraser!” Lily shouted after him, finally stopping her mad tidying frenzy. She caught herself gazing at Matt dreamily. “Why are you looking at me like that? It almost makes me think you like me…” Matt slowly slid his arms around Lily’s waist and tenderly kissed her forehead. “Maybe I do like you, just a little bit,” she swooned back. They both laughed and simultaneously giggled, “I hate soppy couples!” Just as they were about to kiss they heard it. “Oh no… not again.” Lily sighed. From next door they could hear their neighbours wonderful taste in music hammering through the wall. The music genre was called gabba they had recently found out and it was a mixture of death metal and hardcore thumping. Basically, the music got your heart racing and your fists in a rage. “That’s it,” Matt let go of Lily and grabbed his house key, “I’m going over there. You call the police.” Lily watched him storm out the flat. “Ouh,” she said out loud. That definitely didn’t mean it would be a cosy, lovely night. Oh, how she hated her life sometimes. It was nine o’clock in the evening, they hadn’t been food shopping and they would have to wait for the police to come and interview them before they got anything done. Nevertheless, Matt and Lily always tried to end a bad day well. And so Lily told Matt about her day and watched him squirm with laughter as they finally sat down for dinner at ten o’clock.