Punching Above His Weight

Coming soon to a record store and download server near you: Mike Tyson Sings Frank Sinatra's Greatest Hits

Come Fight With Me
You're Nobody Till Somebody Lugs You
It Was a Very Good Ear
I Get to Kick the Crap Out of You
Pugilists in the Night
I Ripped Out Your Heart in San Francisco
Softly, As I Leave You (Convulsing on the Floor Like an Infantile Retard)
Pageant Contestant is a Tramp
Pain is a Many-Splendoured Thing
The Left Hook of Love
Call Me Irresponsible (And I'll Stomp on Your Testicles)
The Way You Bled Tonight
BONUS TRACKS:
In the Cool, Cool, Cool of the Prison Cell
I've Got a Neanderthal Bonecrush on You
Mack the Knife-wielding Babbling Psycho

Rags to Riches

Boy was I surprised to find out that Hong Kong's own Gigi "Burger Queen" Leung was invited to New York last month for the Marc Jacobs fashion show. Not only did her mysterious patrons deck her out in a pretty aqua terry cloth bathrobe, but Gigi even got to be interviewed. Somebody actually paid some attention to her! And I bet they had never even watched La Brassiere.

You can read the brief Q&A session in which Gigi proceeds to beat us over the head with her love for colourful things and popular colours. However she really does her homeland a massive disservice by describing Hong Kong fashion as conservative. Does she not read this blog? Does she walk around with a designer blindfold? Why does she need to lie to the foreign press like that?

The brazen barefaced liar also got to escape all those tedious Chinese New Year family reunions (you know the ones where the seniors wet their pants crowing about China being the best country to live in but keep their overseas passports safely hidden in between their incontinence pads) by attending the Marc by Marc Jacobs show in an festive red ensemble.

The reason why I was so surprised to see Gigi at New York Fashion Week was because the last couple of times I came across her, she looked decidedly rough. She didn't even have 2 platinum credit cards to rub together.



Enjoy your time in the limelight, Gigi! Fame is fleeting and it needs to be pounced on lustily like Anna Nicole Smith does. Before you know it, you'll have to go back to the days of thinking that a drawstring trash bag was wearable, as long as one didn't accessorise with breakable glass items.

Missed Connections

6pm, cute sweater with little poodle and pearly buttons, Causeway Bay
You were hanging off the rack, 30% off. You didn't seem like the sort that would pile. The salesgirl wouldn't let me try you on because you were a sale item. Had to leave quickly for a dinner date but I thought about you all night. You could even say I lost some sleep. When I came back the next day, you were gone. I should have gone home with you and now I regret it.

Last week on the 7.30am train from Quarry Bay to Central, stylish coat
You were a luscious seafoam green. Belted with fur trim, everything I look for in a jacket. I stood beside you most of the way. We may have even brushed against each other when the train lurched unexpectedly. I could tell you weren't happy with her, you didn't fit properly. She also thoughtlessly paired you with a suit that was way too frumpy. When we reached Central, I let you get off before me, a rarity in this town. I think I must have followed you for a good 10 minutes before she got suspicious. What are you doing with her? You need someone who will wear you right, someone like me.

1.00pm yesterday, outside On Pedder store, to die for
I was waiting for my friend to show up. You were in the window, a pair of Christian Louboutin silk pink pumps, waiting to be bought. I've seen you a couple of times now. Each time we look at each other through the glass and share a meaningful nod. We probably live in different worlds. Me, hovering on the poverty line and you, mixing it up with horsey socialites at a benefit with a capital B. I can't afford your shirred and pretty crystalled elegance but I'd like to think that when you're not on charity duty we could get together sometime. Call me!

Cold rainy day, February sometime, stirrup pants in Admiralty Starbucks
That was me, sitting in a corner with a peppermint mocha frappuccino (grande), reading the paper. Up until now, I didn't know that something like you could exist. The way you sauntered into my life like that, working that purple cheetah lycra on five inch hooker heels. You didn't stay long but you made me laugh. Out loud. Thank you.

Little beaded cocktail dress, last summer, BCBG boutique
The shimmery shade of gunmetal caught my eye. I swooped you off the rack and shamelessly pressed my bare skin against you. Admired your neckline, your embroidery, the subtle flare of your skirt. I truly thought you were the one. Then I made a mess of things by not fitting properly into you. That was before the Karl Lagerfeld diet. I know you're still out there, and I have a feeling we might meet again in a warehouse sale. And when we do, you're all mine baby, all mine.

Easy Expression

This blog doesn't give as much attention to maternity fashion as it ought to. I'm going to make a concerted effort to rectify this but I do draw the line at getting pregnant. Obviously there is a dearth of styles out there because pregnancy represents the nine months of a woman's life when she can wear anything and be described as a glowing symbol of femininity (ie a lit up mothership housing a sentient being).

In the post-pregnancy stage, convenient clothing is of utmost priority. Did you know that many a silk blouse has been ruined by a lactating mammary. That was, until the Easy Expression bustiers revolutionised the workplace, levelled the playing field for working mothers, all that and more. It's the Bluetooth of nursing bras! What a great day for multitaskers alike.


Now that her hands are free, the possibilities are endless. How many things is she doing in this picture? I can count one, two...oh I've lost count already, there must be at least 10 things going on at the same time and that's not even including the pelvic floor exercises!

One useful feature of the Easy Expression products is that they work with most kind of pumps. Judging from the effusive testimonials, they have a whole range of other benefits:

Increased productivity
I double pumped this afternoon using the halter and it was SO easy and I was able to get 2 oz. more than I normally get.

Unobstrusive
I can sit at my computer and work away, almost forgetting that I am pumping.

Sensuous
I have these too. …it is soooo soft. I love the fabric.

Sin-free
hands free pumping is heaven!
It is a true God send!

Because of the bustier's conservative cut, pumping in privacy is a thing of the past. Bring on the breakfast meetings, the powerpoint presentations, and public speaking events. But please, keep the cow economy jokes to yourself.

A man's got to know his limitations

Wow, what a night it was for all the Oscar winners, losers and anybody who thought it was a good idea to sit through the whole thing just for a few seconds of Salma Hayek's cleavage. The biggest winner was Clint Eastwood and not just because of all the little gold statuettes he got to take home. This is how the night proceeded as seen through his steely-eyed gaze:

Taunt Michael Jackson during live tv coverage of red carpet:


Give wife patented "Magnum Force (no tongue)" kiss after winning Best Director award:


Invite Julia Roberts to feel the effects of La Prairie Caviar Creme on skin suppleness and elasticity:


Catch sight of Salma Hayek in audience and smile appreciatively:


Mack on Barbra Streisand when James Brolin isn't looking:


Regret macking on Barbra because she now insists on leaving early together:


Let Dustin Hoffman check out supreme tautness of ass:


Proposition Hilary Swank for kicks to see what Oscar-winning expression of disgust she can come up with:


With Dustin's help, retrieve bag of cocaine from its hiding place under the Oscar statue:


Slip some uppers into mum's drink so the old dear can keep up with her party buddies Johnny Depp and Prince:

You Like, You Buy Vol 23

Today in my regular hunt for appropriately cute yet perverse soft toys to add to my collection, I came across a stuffed green cat. Green, that's not a colour one sees often in the world of plush unless a frog is concerned and let's face it, things have gone kind of quiet for the frogs since Kero Kero Keroppi faded into obscurity.

Intrigued, I visited the Moody Caddy (www.moodycaddy.com) hoping for some earth-shattering revelations. However there was nothing remotely exciting to be revealed about this cat, this poor man's Benny the Ball of Top Cat fame who doesn't even have a snazzy white dinner jacket. What the hell is wrong with its creators? They have the perfect opportunity to turn a cat that flashes all kinds of colours into a delirious rave feline with an interesting back story featuring loads of secondary characters. However the best explanation they can come up with is that it swallowed a chameleon.

For a moody cat, he doesn't have a whole lot of moods in his repertoire. The little bastard doesn't even crack a frown once in any of his products:

Pen Tray



Mouse Pad and PVC Pad


Mini figures


Stuffed Toy


So I guess it's up to us to make up an alternative, more satisfying back story for Moody Caddy. Why do you think it has a propensity to change colours? A childhood accident with a radioactive chemical spill? And why do you think it has turned green in this particular case? Did it look over into its neighbour's backyard and accidentally see a live taping of the Fred Durst sex video?