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Adidas is one of my favorite brands. Back when I lived in Korea, they use to throw the most awesome branding parties with all the right celebs and musicians in attendance. For the 60th anniversary, the company really splashed out! They threw a global party celebrating six decades of sports and sneaker style. Here in Honkers, they rented a massive loft space in Aberdeen called The Factory. The space was painted entirely by renowned comic book artist Mauro Marchesi and it was exactly the edgy kind of venue needed for such a huge event. 

I had quite a number of events to attend that night- a couple for luxury brands and one for Lucky Jeans- so I decided to ditch the high-end appearances and just go to the photography exhibit at Lucky Jeans. Everyone was making fun of me because I was wearing this one piece Adidas jumpsuit with a huge logo that went right across my mid-section. People were like "Hey you're at the wrong party!" or "Are you working at the Adidas party tonite?" Well in the end my over the top outfit worked to my advantage...

I was on the the 24 Herbs list (Thanks GS!) but I was with an enormous posse many of whom were not on the the list. When we arrived at the factory, the queue was TITANIC. The line practically stretched around the block in both directions. We walked past this Adidas ice-cream truck which was parked right at the front.  I went straight into the ice-cream truck bit of a 'photo op' session since my outfit actually matched!
The old dude working inside the truck didn't seem to mind. I'm sure at that point he was used to the happily drunk people.

We squeezed past the pleb line and angled our way towards the entrance. There was a big crush to get in but we couldn't locate the person with the guestlist. In any case we just cruised past security where we ran into some of the model clan. Everyone was waiting in line again to get into the lift but I kind of scooted around the side and the entourage followed suite. I'm quite sure security thought I was working there and I needed to get inside to do something.

The lifts were crammed with people and it was a bit claustrophobic but once inside the venue, we were delighted by the fabulous set-up!  The set deisgners and brand managers really managed to create a festive carnival-like atmosphere. In addition, they managed to make it homey and cozy despite the venue being so large. There was a pool table, fuzball, a mock swimming pool full of plastic balls in the blue and white Adidas theme colors. There was cotton candy, balloon-like seats that bounced up and down and several art installations which looked like rooms in a house- all plastered with Adidas paraphenalia. In fact, the Adidas logo was absolutely everywhere. There were big projectors projecting Adidas signs on the walls and huge Adidas balloons on all the corners of the roof.

24 Herbs performed, models danced around on stage and there was a cake cutting ceremony with actress Shu Qi, some other local celebs and 70's tennis star Stan Smith who Adidas fashioned a line of tennis shoes after. Then DJ Steve Aoki took to the decks and a big heaving crowd gathered around him. Everyone was taking photos, putting their hands up in the air like they just didn't care and Steve himself put on quite a good show.

The energy of the crowd was amazing! Everyone was decked out in the three stripes or their streetwear best and everyone was in a good mood- possibly due to the heavy-handed free-flow at the bar. When I got to the bar, I poured a can of red-bull into this jumbo plastic cup and the bartender poured about three shots of vodka in my drink- thus emptying the rest of his bottle. He went on to open another bottle and poured about 4 more shots in my cup. Needless to say, that was the only drink I needed for the rest of the night.

There was pandemonium everywhere. Up at the roof, people were dancing their hearts out (including myself). Some were breakdancing, some were line dancing and some guys were stealing balloons and pretending they were breasts. The entire rooftop played volleyball with one of the oversized balloons which we set free. In the main room, people were dancing around in the pit of plastic balls and some were playing tennis with the balls and their purses. I fell into the mock swimming pool at one point and people began bombarding me with balls. I managed to snap this very cool pic as the balls were coming at me.

I ran into about 20 of my new facebook friends who I had not yet met in real life. It's nice to know that cyber buddies actually do exist in real life!  The only bad thing about the party was that it ended too early. I don't know what time it was when we descended what seemed like 80 flight of stairs to get out of there but all I know was that I did not want to leave. The next day there facebook was saturated with Adidas party photos. You could not pay for that kind of publicity and endorsement. It must have cost them a fair bit of money, but for marketing and branding purposes, they did everything right. Not only did they do it right, but it was a righteously fun party as well!

See all the party photos here:

http://www.hiphongkong.com/party-photos/hong-kong/adidas_house_party_6009.htm

Luckily, it's not always drudgery work and often times it's alot of fun! For example, one weekend I was doing research for the bar review section and figured out it was actually possible to party from Mexico (Tequila Bar Old Bailey Street), to Moscow (Balilaika Ice Vodka Bar) to Africa (Makumba) all in one Hong Kong night. After that tour, we bumped into guitarist Jose Gonzalez at this cool new place called the Cristal Bar. He was doing a show the next day at Grappa's Cellar and invited me to come. The show sent chills down my spine!

On another PR night, some friends dragged me to D-I and the Cuban Brothers were performing. The Cuban Brothers are a troupe of flashy Cuban comedians/musicians who do 70's and 80's covers interspersed with Latino bongo playing, breakdancing, stripping- even down to the Full Monty! It was highly entertaining but I think some of the Chinese girls at the front were a bit shocked. Some people, including myself thought it was brillant, but some thought Hong Kong was starving for culture when a group of chubby middle-aged men stripping naked could be thought of as 'quality' entertainment.

People sometimes liken me to Carrie Bradshaw from Sex in the City and I have to admit, though I am in no way fashioning my life after the TV character, there are similarities. For example- I have a lot of shoes, I’m a writer and I was asked recently to be a ‘real person’ model at a press event for my friend’s clothing line Kanchan Couture.

I don’t know if any of you saw that episode where she’s asked to model some skimpy underwear wearing really high platform shoes and she ends up falling on the runway. First of all, I was relieved I didn’t have to wear bejeweled underwear but I was thinking to myself: ‘If I’m going to be masquerading as a catwalker, I better put on the highest heels I own.’ Hopefully I wasn’t going to end up same as Carrie and fall flat on my face during the show. Happily, I managed to stay upright despite several glasses of champers.

Kanchan has an amazing line of party frocks as well as glitzy daywear. Some it is inspired by different eras such as the 50’s or 40’s. I think its really cool that she always uses ‘real people’ to showcase her clothes because it shows that everyone can wear the clothes- not just tall lanky models.

Kanchan from Kanchan Couture

I arrived at M1NT where Kanch dressed me. I had three layers of skirts which had to be pinned on. I wondered when I was getting dressed if that was the way women felt in the 1600s when they always wore those big poofy skirts. I then had to be double-sided taped into this gold shirt which was a bit too big for me. Luckily the shirt didn’t fall off me either.

We did a quick catwalk lesson (just like in America’s top model) and we were instructed to swing our hips, do two poses, walk to the end where there was a piece of tape, pose, turn and exit. “Lots of ass” Kanch said. “Play with the skirt and walk slowly”.

I really had no choice other than to walk slowly since my shoes were a half size too big. I bought them half price from Pedder Red on Wellington Street so it didn’t bother me that I had to put in foot pads to make them fit. Even then, it wasn’t super easy to maneuver in them.

After the show, the ‘models’ har har.. had to walk around with plates of alcoholic chocolate from the newly launched Francesa line of gourmet chocolates. The event was for the press so there were photographers, videographers and writers from Ming Pao daily, SCMP and various other publications. It was quite fun being part of the whole event and getting to wear such an elaborate outfit. I felt just like a Geisha Cindrella on Christmas day!

They say it’s all fun and games till someone gets hurt. Unfortunately, at this year’s dragon boat races in Stanley, I witnessed first-hand the true meaning of this adage. Amidst the racing, the revelry, the drumming, and the drunken antics came a stupid and tragic accident.

After a few days of black rain, landslides and fallen trees, the weather auspiciously (or so we thought) cleared for race day. I wasn’t paddling this year so I had free license to roam the party boats lining the racecourse. Ferries and sampans waited at the shore to shuttle people out to the boats. I started my day at Zone B where I boarded the Time-Warner boat simply because one of my friends works for that company. Adjacent to that was the BNP Paribas luxury junk yacht where a righteous party was going on. On the other side, there were 2 JP Morgan boats lined up next to each other. My friend and I spotted someone we knew at the 2nd JP Morgan boat so we decided we’d hop over there for a visit.

It’s common practice to hop from one boat to another but, the gap between our boat and the JP Morgan boat was wide and the railings of both boats were quite high. It was going to be challenging and somewhat dangerous to cross from boat to boat this way. A guy from the JP boat started to pull the boats closer together so we could get on, but their boat bitch started yelling at us saying they were full and we couldn’t get on. She handed us some conciliatory beer pitchers instead.

Undeterred, we decided to hire a small sampan to take us one boat down so we could board  properly and safely. Once onboard, we climbed the ladder to get to the upper deck and I remarked how slippery the floors of the junk were due to the spillage of beer and other liquids. I was treading very lightly so I wouldn’t fall and make an ass of myself.

People were migrating at will from one boat to the other and the DJs had the party-goers dancing with some crowd-pleasing hip-hop tunes. Incidentally, I remarked how young and alternative the crowd looked for a banker’s boat. About 50 percent of the people on the boat had had tattoos.

Anyway, everyone was having a grand old time chatting, flirting, drinking beer, and laughing when a bunch of people went to the boat next door for a hula-hoop contest. I wasn’t sure what the winner won, but I think the loser was supposed to get his head shaved. At one point, a big crowd gathered around the adjoining boat to watch one guy getting all his hair razored. I noticed a few people crossing over the top deck to get from boat to boat and I thought to myself- gee, that’s dangerous since the decks are so slippery and people have been drinking.

I stopped looking, but suddenly there was a big ‘Thud’ and a splash followed by a huge commotion. People started screaming “Someone’s fallen in the water!! Who is it?? Help! Someone call an ambulance! Call for help!!”  I didn’t actually see the guy fall in, but his burgundy and white trucker cap was still floating ominously on the surface. My girlfriend, who saw some of it happen, was freaking out. I asked her who it was but all she knew was the guy was really tall.

Random people started jumping in the water after the fallen man but the water was dark and murky and it was impossible to see anything. “Goggles!! Goggles!! Does anyone have goggles?? Move the boats apart!! Turn the motors off- It’s dangerous!! Someone call an ambulance please!”

A communal panic ensued and people’s shouts became more frantic. 5 minutes passed and the guy still hadn’t surfaced. People were still swimming around in vain looking for him in water with zero visibility. The water looked so dirty. There was loads of garbage floating within and one guy seemed to be surrounded by an oily veil of gas from the boat’s engine.

“Who was it??” People were yelling. “It was Eric Tutera” someone said. Then everyone starting yelling “Eric!!! Eric can you hear us?? ERIC!!!! ERIC!!!!” “Someone please call Eric’s cell phone!” Everyone wanted to do something to help- but in the confusion, not much could really be done.

10 minutes passed and all the boats in the vicinity had moved off to the side exposing a potential area where the body could resurface. A few guys sped off in a powerboat to get the police to come and help, but short of having a team of rescue divers on call, not much could have been done.

Police boats surrounded the area, and a helicopter flew overhead. Some guys that were dressed like the fire brigade in helmets and fireproof jackets came to the scene of the accident on an orange zodiac. People were pointing in the water but what were the firemen going to do? Dive in with their jackets and plastic helmets? A feeling of uselessness and helplessness pervaded the air.

The clock kept ticking and about 20-30 minutes had passed. The crowd had lost hope that poor Eric could be rescued. Most likely he hit his head on the way down and was already unconscious when he hit the water. In that state, he probably sank directly to the bottom.

Meanwhile the event continued- the guns at the starting line continued to blast at the start of each race, people were still cheering the paddlers on and happy unsuspecting spectators zipped by on speedboats until they were warned by police not to cross the area. People on the surrounding boats continued to drink, dance and take in the beauty of the clouds framed by the afternoon sun.

The people on our boat were shell-shocked. One guy who had dived in to try to save Eric  was sitting at the foot of the boat with his head in his hands. A blonde girl, who possibly knew Eric personally, could no longer hold back her tears. She burst out crying and her friend took her in his arms to try to comfort her. There were group hugs and a piece of paper was being circulated to get the names and numbers of the people who witnessed the accident. There was nothing more that could be done. I heard a guy on the orange Zodiac say that divers were coming to search the area. But by the time they would get there the only thing they’d find was a dead bloated body.

They wanted everyone who didn’t actually witness the accident to get off the boat so my friend and I guiltily left. Why is it when you witness someone die, that you sometimes feel like it’s your fault? We didn’t even know Eric, nor did we even meet him, but it was so very tragic. It was a really silly accident. Everyone was just drinking and having a laugh. Who knew that we’d be faced with the heaviness of our own mortality on such a festive day?

There was a big colorful rundown of the races in the paper. They even talked about how lucky we were that the weather had cleared. However the accident garnered little more than a one line footnote. ‘An expat man in his 30’s suffered a blow to the head and fell missing in the water. The police are still searching for his body.’

My girlfriend called me crying at 1am saying that she couldn’t sleep and she kept replaying the incident in her head. I tried to calm her down and assured her that there was nothing she could have done. At least he died quickly and painlessly.

 If anything can be learned from this incident, it’s two things:
1. Don’t take silly unnecessary risks- especially if your judgement has been somewhat impaired by alcohol
2. Live and love everyday like it may be your last because we’re all going to die someday.

Eric- if you have left us- may you Rest in Peace.

You don’t actually need to travel to have an adventure. Most of the time, you just have to be curious and possess the spirit of discovery. Some expats jokingly call Kowloon ‘the darkside’ and I think that’s ridiculous. I LOVE Kowloon in all it’s jumbled mess and chaotic glory. I find area around Mongkok, Sham Shui Po and Yau Ma Tei particularly interesting. There are so many cool things to see, buy and photograph there.

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A few days ago, a fellow photographer asked me if I wanted to troll the photography supply shops in Mongkok. I’m always looking for an excuse to go to Mongkok, so it was perfect. We MTR-ed it out there and as soon as we got out of the subway, we found a restaurant which had a massive black snake slithering in a glass box. I don’t know if it was a restaurant serving snake, but we didn’t stop to have lunch in any case.

We found all kinds of great treasures for photography- dimmer switches, neon lights in every color of the rainbow, tripods, reflectors etc.. and it was all much cheaper than any other photography supply shop elsewhere in the world. Afterwards, we walked through the market and found an endless treasure trove of fascinating junk. There were all these things I wanted- a snakeskin banjo, a tacky 70’s gold watch, a rotary dial telephone, nerd-chic granny glasses, vintage film cameras and this cute gold mouse made with beads.
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The afternoon sun cast long shadows onto the streets and people’s stray hairs were highlighted by golden light. We turned the corner and there was an old man wearing dozens of rings on his fingers. He was examining a ring that someone had just brought him through a magnifying loop. Around another corner, there was a throng of old men squatting on the floor studying the horseracing pages of the newspaper. Yet another corner brought us to this decrepit tenement building with an interesting balcony. We decided we wanted to see what was up there so we found the staircase to go in. It was  treacherously steep concrete staircase and the place was so dark and run down I got frightened halfway up and decided not to proceed.
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We got hungry and needed some caffeine after seeing all the sights, so we headed over to Yau Ma Tei where my friend knew of a cool café in some random building. I have no idea how he found that cafe as a typical gweilo would have never stumbled upon this place.
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Anyway, I promised to keep the location secret so I won’t post it here, but the café was so neat! You do not get places like this in Central. The place had a soul, a personality. It looked like someone’s colorful artistic living room. It was full of books, knick knacks and vintage Euro chairs. It was on the 4^th floor of this skinny building. In fact the whole building was full of bars and coffeehouses but this place was particularly special because there was an outdoor terrace. We sat on the terrace talking over beer and dumplings until day turned to night and the moon came out over the towering buildings.

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All the people at the café seemed to be artists and trendsetters. The owner had long hair and amazingly original sleeve tattoos. This Eurasian hippie guy came in with a groovy hat and goatee. He also had these strange leaf-like tattoos on his neck. We got to talk to them later on and found out that Leon (the hippie guy) is from France and traveling around the world doing tattoos. He’s actually working in a studio in Tsim sha Tsui at the moment. Brillant stuff.
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When we got out of the lift, there was a mass of trendy locals going up to various establishments inside the building. My friend ran into a buddy of his that he knows from riding scooters. The guy’s Vespa was parked just outside and man was it cooool! You can’t really see the color here but it’s kind of a dark green and the seats are white.

Hong Kong is saturated with luxury malls carrying brand-name goods so it’s truly refreshing to see an entire mall dedicated to the arts and visual self-expression. 'Delay No Mall' in Causeway Bay is the brainchild of the founders of the funky lifestyles furniture shop- G.O.D (Goods of Desire). Thursday, there was a joint party for the opening of the mall as well as for the launch of 24 Herbs first album. Pretty much everyone who was anyone in the arts, fashion and music industry was there. 

Delay No Mall is full of fashion-forward clothes and accessories for trendmeisters, too-cool-for-schoolers and gay boys. (Fabbbbulousss, dahling!) As we walked in, girls in Moulin Rouge like outfits from House of Siren were administering cranberry vodka shots. Once upstairs, people were getting temporary tattoos on their necks, arms and décolletage. Mine said “Lust” and “I’m your desire”.

Then we entered an area that had these futuristic pod-like beds on a pond. Apparently it’s a type of vibrating bed where you can take a nap and re-energize. Very futuro. Along the way, I saw some models in one room that were paid to be pretending to play a game of strip poker. Their clothes and hats were in a pile on the floor and one of the beefy male models was wearing this “Delay No More” underwear that was completely open on the backside, so his entire butt was exposed! Now that’s cheeky!



I had to duck into the toilet before going into the party and the toilet has this packman/ videogame theme. When you flush, the toilet makes very loud video game noises. I thought the toilet was going to eat me alive!

The party took place in a floor which hasn’t been opened to shops yet so it was in a huge open space with black walls, a large projector image and a stage at the front. Off to the side, models in hot pink underwear and boxes on their heads modeled their bodies as well as the underwear and some jewelery. Someone said they could see that the models were shivering and one person said it was good that they had those boxes on their heads so no one could recognize them. I got the best money shot for my cougar article- see exhibit A below. (I think this lady is a famous sex columnist or something like that.)

The place eventually packed out and 24 Herbs took the stage looking extremely dapper (It’s a special occasion of course). They gave an amazing performance and I was happy not to have been carrying my video camera around so I could actually groove to the tunes.

One of the aspects of my job is attending events, parties, fashion shows and brand launches. The reason for this is twofold. One- I document the event by photographing it and Two- I get to make valuable connections and do PR and marketing for my brand. What’s annoying is when people label me a ‘socialite’ or a ‘partygirl’. I think that both of these terms are derogatory and consider myself neither. While I do enjoy dressing up, getting the complimentary drinks and talking to as many interesting people as I can, I am never out of control and passing out at some random late night place. If that’s what people want to do with their time, that’s their perogative, but it’s not for me.

Another thing that irks me is the concept of ‘fake’ or superficial. It’s true that some people you meet on the social scene are at times gripped by their egos and are not aware of it, therefore they try to make themselves feel important in one way or another. I try to sympathize and look past that to see who the person is inside- why they are hiding and what their fears are. In seeing people and relating to them on a ‘real’ level, I find that my contact with supposedly superficial people becomes much deeper and leads to more gratifying relationships. While a lot of people who are always out and about are somewhat lost and always searching, there are really only a few who are truly malicious. I try to avoid those people.

 On the 17^th, some friends invited me to come out to a restaurant opening at the Elements Mall. I had been invited to so many openings there in the fall, but never managed to trek my behind all the way there. In fact, Elements is only one stop away from Central on the Tung Chung line. Unfortunately someone was convinced were supposed to get off at Olympic station instead of  Kowloon and we ended up having to back-track.

Elements mall is massive and it was difficult to find the venue, but finally we arrived at the small Damiani shop where there was a pre-cocktail and an introduction to the blingy jewelry. There were a couple of models standing around wearing Damiani jewelry and Kanchan Couture dresses. I had a chance to meet Giorgio Damiani, the Vice president of the company. (Why is it that Italians always look so classy and tan in that Rico Suave kind of way?)

Not too long after, we moved into the restaurant called D Diamond. Damiani has something to do with this restaurant and so does Xuan Mu. D Diamond somehow reminds me of Zuma in Central. There’s two floors and an uplit staircase which leads to a bar area and a big outdoor area.

The Moet was flowing and the local celebrities and personalities were out en force. What’s amusing about the canto world is there are so many people who are 50 and up that still like to get really dressed up and hob-nob around. Some of their outfits are spectacular! I totally want to be one of these outlandish dressers when I’m over 50.

I recently went through a very traumatic personal drama which was followed by an intense soul search and spiritual retreat in Thailand. I was feeling renewed when I got back to Hong Kong- only return to the loneliness and angst of the Holiday season in the city. During this time, I rode the rollercoaster of highs and lows, and finally just learned to accept the fact that- well, sh*t happens. It’s in the acceptance of a situation that you learn to live in the present and not let negative emotions grip your ego. I thought I was dealing with it quite well, but my body felt the repressed stress and I fell ill. I’m into alternative therapy these days, so I decided to try out some new-age solutions to cure my flu.

First, I went to a Reiki healer. I had heard a lot about Reiki from a fast I did at Spa Samui last year. Some people said they laughed, or cried, or felt sexually charged afterwards. I was hoping it would illicit some negative emotion I was holding inside that was making me sick.

I lied down on this massage table, essential oils burning a calm lavender scent in the background, and the healer proceeded to place her hands on various parts of my body. I read somewhere that a Reiki healer’s hands actually got hot to signify the transfer of healing energy to a sick person, but I found the healer’s hand to be somewhat cool. I fell asleep after a while, so I wasn’t really aware of what happened during the session. At least I wasn’t coughing up a lung. The healer said that she felt an extraordinary amount of fear in my body (Doesn’t everyone feel fear?) She also said that there was something that I wasn’t telling someone that was causing this sickness (Okay, I hate you- intolerable jerk! There. I’ve said it.). Then she said I needed to check out the parasites in my body as they may be wreaking havoc on my systems. (Damn those chaotic little amoebas!) I was also advised to drink plenty of water. Duhh.... 800 Honkie dollars later, I was sent on my way.

The next day, I went to the Chinese medicine doctor who I had gone to last year when I threw out my back doing mal-formed squats during body pump. Western cough medicine wasn’t working for me, so I thought I’d try the holistic approach.

Dr. Poon is a really kind-looking middle aged man with an open face and wide-spread eyes. Even though he knew I didn’t speak Cantonese, he spoke to me directly as the assistant translated. He took my pulse, asked me to stick out my tongue and the diagnosis was that my lungs, liver and spleen were weak. (Smoking + drinking =BAD!)

I had time, so he did a session of acupuncture on me. He proceeded to tap thin steel needles that looked a little like chicken wire into my temples (for the headache), the base of my throat (for the cough), inside my elbows (for the liver), in the fleshy part of my hand between my thumb and index finger (also for the throat) and on the outer part of my calf just below my knee (boosts you immune system). It didn’t hurt per se, but I could definitely feel that the needle had hit some kind of nerve. Especially in my elbows, hands and knees. The doctor said that was good and that it was allowing for the Qi to circulate.

After the session, I was made to drink this powder that smelled like incense and looked like the ground ashes of Fu Manchu. Fortunately, it was palatable as I had to sip it slowly with warm water- like a tea. It tasted a little like mentholated caramel and ginseng. Immediately after, I stopped coughing, but it only worked temporarily. I am slowly feeling better though :)

During a holiday season- over a few glasses of bubbly- a few of my girlfriends and I decided that since the town was so quiet, we’d do something different and go out for an afternoon of art jamming. Though none of us are real artists, we all thought it would be interesting to see what our subconscious imaginative selves could come up with when faced with a blank canvas.

The art jam studio is in a cool old colonial building on Wellington Street. For those of you who have never experienced it, the art jam is basically a place where you can buy canvases, paint, and other accessories like gold paint and glitter. You rent the space, buy the material and within the alloted amount of time, you create your own work of art.

During one excursion to Ladder street in Sheung Wan when I was buying props for a photo shoot, I found this junk shop run buy a cute elderly man. His shop was a treasure trove of miscellaneous knick knacks like old cameras, decrepit watches, opium pipes, vintage celebrity photos and yellowed newspapers from the ‘60’s and ‘70’s. I decided to buy some of the newspaper because the graphics looked so retro, I thought that at some point, I might glean some artistic inspiration off of it. I immediately thought of that  newspaper when my friends suggested that we go art jamming.

The first thing you do at the art jam is pick the size of your canvas. It’s actually surprisingly reasonably priced considering you are getting the canvas, the paint and renting the studio space. I asked the manager what kind of people usually come to art jam and she said it was usually people who didn’t think they had and artistic bone in their body. There are lots of birthday parties, hen’s nights, corporate events or just group gatherings in general. Some people really like it and end up coming several times a week.

I arrived at the art jam studio, old newspaper in hand, not really knowing exactly what I would do with it. As I perused the crusty old pages, I saw that many of the pages contained escort ads (kind of like the page 6 girls in The Sun/ Globe newspapers in the UK). I started cutting out excerpts of graphics that looked interesting or sexy and after a while a theme began to form.

I decided that I needed to use a palate of fushia pink, gray, black and white to create a materialistic post-punk ‘love story’. As soon as I started slapping on the pink paint with the spatula (I didn’t want to use a paintbrush), my canvas started to tell a vivid story of lust and materialism in Hong Kong- At least that’s the meaning I attached to the messy globs of paint.

In the end, I was not happy with the way the acrylic paint dried into a darker shade. Also, I was trying to create texture with the spatula and I didn’t layer enough paint on. The old newspaper also had a yellow tinge to it which probably would have looked better with a red, orange or green color scheme, but oh well, time had effectively run out and I had to settle for finishing off the piece with some gold glitter.

Although I wasn’t super stoked with the end product, I felt very ‘present’ during the creation of the piece. I felt my right brain go into high gear and at the time I was painting, I didn’t think about anything else. It was really therapeutic especially since I had been having a really crappy holiday season full of worry and angst.

The friends I came with all created something very different but quite awesome in their own respect. One friend ended up with a very ‘Museum of Contemporary Art’ piece. There were bold primary colors in sections and drizzled with what looked like icing. Another girl created an all-white piece characterized with texture and form rather than color.  The last friend painted a serene sky with a small boat adrift in a baby blue sea.

No matter what you come up with, art jamming does something for your soul. It opens up pathways to your subconscious creativity and for a brief moment in time you experience creative Zen.

Usually when I go for Chinese food, I somehow always end up in pseudo-fancy places like Yun Fu (Wyndham Street), Hutong (One Peking Road) or some of the small atmospheric places in Soho. While the ambience of these restaurants tres romantique, the food is always over-priced and rarely authentic.

Recently I had the chance to join Pei-Pei (She’s a Hong Kong actress I met back in October) and her family in Tsim Sha Tsui for a Peking-style feast. The restaurant we went to, called Spring Deer, is old skool. It's housed in on the first floor of a building deep inside Mody Road. There’s flourescent overhead lighting, simple décor- which probably hasn’t changed since the 70’s- and big round tables with rotating sections in the middle. As we walked in, you could hear the din of people chatting and laughing while chefs wearing tall white hats sliced up barbequed ducks tableside.

There were so many of us at the table, we had to squeeze to the very last inch to make all of our chairs fit. The cool thing was that since the table was round, we were all able to face each other and talk to pretty much whomever we wanted to talk to. The beauty of the round table is that it encourages a fun, familial atmosphere. I looked around and all the families in the restaurant seemed to be having a lot of fun being together. It felt like a scene straight out of the movie Eat, Drink, Man, Woman.

We started with a couple of glasses of champagne at this new gourmet burger joint, had a few tequila shots along the way on Wyndham street then moved onto Zuma where most of the AnD artists/bloggers seemed to be hanging out.

 They did the countdown not long after we arrived. Some confetti was launched and people clinked their glasses to the sound of “Auld Lang Syne”. It was anti-climactic as expected, so not long after, we decided to brave the crowded streets of Lan Kwai to reach a party at Sushi Kuu in the M88 building.

There was a mob scene outside the building but luckily we skirted the line and went straight up. Sushi Kuu was packed. There were models bartending behind the bar and some hip-hop DJ was playing decent bootie-shaking tunes. Over more tequila shots, I contemplated becoming a lesbian for the New Year, but luckily I got saved by a phone call from some friends who wanted me to go somewhere else.

The next stop on the New Year’s drift was Cliq. This venue is in the location of the old Hei Hei club and is one of the newest venues on the club scene. Cliq is huge and has Plasma TV monitors lining the walls. The general color scheme of the place is black. It has a very underground feel and is one of the only places in Hong Kong which feels like a club.

A few months ago I did a ‘sex and the city’ issue for hiphongkong and I filmed a video of a pole dance instructor Ania who teaches at Groove Dance fitness in Causeway Bay. Since that time, I’ve thrown a pole dancing party with Ania and I also took an aero-sexy dance class in the same studio where Ania teaches. However, I never officially attempted to take a pole dancing class from her.

Two of Ania’s close friends take private classes from her three times a week and they finally convinced me to come along. During the warm-up, I noticed that both students had several black and blues on their legs which apparently is not uncommon for pole dance novices. When you’re just starting out, you tend to make awkward movements or grip the pole too tightly which inevitably causes some amount of bruising. Anyway, undaunted by bruised legs, I decided to give it a whirl (literally).

We started out with a simple warm-up stretch. Ania then proceeded to show me a ‘walking around the pole’ move which ended in a kind of twirl under one arm. I had observed her teaching this move to another student and I remarked at how stiff the student seemed to look. Well I soon figured out that nothing was actually as simple as it looked- Ania just has a knack for making things look graceful.

After that, I was taught three basic pole moves. One was a close-legged spin, one was a spin with both legs away from the pole and one was a pole slide with open legs. I spent an hour trying to learn different combinations of these 4 moves and I tell you I was seeing stars! I was spinning to the left, spinning to the right and my head didn’t stop spinning even after I dismounted from the pole. It was not an activity that one should attempt after a night of drinking.

Ania was pretty good about showing me what I looked like as I was dancing. It’s kind of like learning how to ski. You’re so engrossed in trying to get the basic move right, you’re not really ‘feeling it’ and doing it naturally. You are also totally unaware of what you look like. Now I know why those other students looked so stiff. I didn't particularly feel sexy- but I guess that come with practice.

In the final portion before the cool-down we had to do was a free-style dance for an entire song. It didn’t matter if we were actually spinning or using the pole, we had to move constantly for the entire duration of the song.

After the dizzy-ness subsided we patted ourselves on the back for burning up to 700 calories within that hour. My shoulders and arms were so sore the next day and yes, I did have a few black and blues. Call me a glutton for punishment, but I may have to do it again.