GLOSSY

Today marks the end of my second semester in the Australian graduate school. I wrote my research findings on the glocalized versions of Cosmopolitan and CLEO in just one day; my part itself contained 4,000 worth of words and numerous of colorful magazine cut-outs placed in the dossier. I just can’t wait to complete my Master’s and get on with the second phase of my life. Soon enough I’ll start fresh elsewhere, possibly still lecturing (I heart my profession too much) but even most possibly out of my native. But for now, here’s a photograph captured by a friend of my industrial visit to one of the most famous magazine publishing houses in my darling homeland:




Beret, Deeper N' Harder; Turtleneck, my mother's; Dress, X'thephine; Necklace, Doodle; Bag, Sophie.


To think that I used to dream of becoming a lifestyle/ fashion writer (this dream came about when I was still working in the video production line i.e. underpaid and depressed and feeling mighty useless). The girly politics of it all, as confirmed by one of their staff writers, can be mighty taxing. And to write about objects of admiration that you can’t certainly afford on a daily basis puts the bleakness on another level. So as an alternative, I might want to plunge into the pop cultural side of high street fashion to complete my possible dissertation before graduating. Good enough.