I predicted that this year would be one of great change. I was right, we've been through so much - jetsetting off to Hong Kong, China, Taiwan, Macau, Korea, England, Egypt, Amsterdam, France, Spain, Germany - we've left our comfort zones behind for awhile to explore what the world has in store for us.

Some of us have fallen in love, gotten into relationships, some stayed happy, some had hearts broken, and I believe God put us through all that for a reason. The light is starting to get clearer at the end of the tunnel, although I still believe in the "if you break up after dating for a couple of years when you're 25 or 26, you're dead" theory.

Of course you're technically not, but it is a scary thought, especially when it seems like the world hinges upon you to get married at those prime ages.

I believe that what keeps us going is the hope that God has in store for us, His pleasing and perfect will. And without a doubt, these girls that are constant at any stage of my life and whom I know will be there with me no matter if we're all married with enough children to form a football team or single living with our many cats and dogs in California or Repulse Bay in Hong Kong.

The future is bright indeed.

why do we not find a different way of behaving?

time goes by way too fast

feast your eyes





the funk not the everyday junk; of your regular punk

I like to call this sweet revenge.
But no matter what, Gen, you'll always be beautiful and glamourous to me.

Much love,
Ashley

love from gen

Midnight Revelry

Once again, shopping has evolved. No longer is it for the elite (circa 1900s); nor is it confined to departmental stores like Robinson (FYI, its considered the biggest and most hip place to see and be seen in like 1950s Singapore); or just a stroll down shopper's paradise from Far East Plaza to Plaza Singapura. Which by the way is madness. Walking in your gorgeous 3 inch Manolo's or Choo's, Marc's ballet pumps or Louboutin's 4 inch stilettoes? You dont walk, you cab or drive. Unless you consider the pavement your 8 km runway. Even so, you watch the runway from your front row VIP seats. Okay, I digress......

Back to the point. Who would have thought that:Shopping + Midnight (kind of) = Good Workout + Excitement + New Clothes/Shoes/Accessories - Lighter Purses - Growling TummiesBut from the above equation, the pros outweigh the cons! Retailers please hear our pleas! Make this a weekly thing from now onwards. Ashley and I trotted around Marina Square to satisfy our cravings for burning some plastics; I mean to help the economy with our consumption: Y=C+I+G+(X-M) And what a night really, good AND bad.

Spoiler #1: Security Guard with pistachio green uniform (It does not complement ANYBODY'S skintone)so it was around 1150 when Ashley and I approached the queue to redeem our shopping voucher. The sign clearly states that redemption is from a certain time to 12mn. Anyone who understands basic english will get that it is TILL 12mn that shoppers could redeem their coupon if they spend above $100. But no, upon managment's orders, the guard had to stop people from joining the queue. Does this make sense? Of course not! It is a classic case of MISREPRESENTATION. Not that a contract was made but hello?! Its in black and white. If you are going to deprive a poor shopper of his/her voucher even though its nearly midnight, you are not being a good retailer. A note to all consumers: you should stand up for your rights! Who is a man in pistachio green to tell you about not being able to join the queue just because its nearly 12! If he were in an Armani suit looking sharp and mighty fine, it might be a different story. But its not 12 for crying out loud. Now, now, before you think its only a measely $10 voucher, its the principle that matters. If not for the glam girls fighting for their rights, would the other shoppers behind us have redeemed their vouchers?!

Highlight #1: Redzwan & Siti at Topshop vs Moody Cow at Zara vs Manager on a sugar high at Carl's JuniorOh! Redzwan is such a sweetheart! He was so helpful and polite! Ashley could get her trench coat at a cheaper price because he told us about the one day sale! Really a nice person that makes your shopping experience all the more worthwhile. And Siti, so bubbly and like the movie, Little Miss Sunshine! Her smile can just brighten up any room.Now Miss Moody Cow on the other hand, you would not want me to start...... If I could be Donald Trump, I'd go up to her face and say to her "You're Fired!" (Wait, this is so not a highlight, is it?)Carl's Junior is just another place that has excellent service. I must say, onion rings fried to perfection with all types of sauces! (I shall recommend Honey mustard and BBQ) A cheerful counterboy and manager that made your night feel totally awesome.

xoxo,Kate ( I-squeeze would be nice to soothe those aching muscles. Oh! hopefully there's a wad of cash lying around my room sonewhere......)

"What makes us so different," we ask the unexpected addition to our small group during the discussion tonight.

He ponders then chuckles in typical fashion, stating that it's really the things that we talk about. And being the nice one that he is, he claims that the things we talk about are actually not senseless.

When pressed for more information, he says we talk about trench coats, about boots, and how we can go on endlessly about a mere haircut.

And we witnessed it later on, when Kate changed out of her miniskirt into a pair of shorts.

"Wow, what a bright orange..."
"Is it yours? Hmm, the thigh area seems abit airy."
"It's terry-cloth and so that makes it reaaaallly comfortable!"
"It seems so tiny though, are you sure it's not yours?"
"The waist area is loose."
"Who cares how I look? I'll only care how God judges me."
"It's a nice pair of shorts though."
"It's a medium, not a small!"
"I got it at a Guess? sale!"

So much for a pair of orange terry-cloth shorts.

I love how our personalities came shining through today during the 'hot-seat' exercise where Scarlett prepared fancy paper with colourful scrawls just for that exercise, as expected.

We have the one with the good command of the English Language, Miss OTTAA who's generous with a genuine whole-heartedness, the pretty one with artistic flair and quiet strength and the one who's everybody's best friend.

And for all other fellow glam girls out there, here's a secret.

There's going to be a 20% discount at Topshop at Marina Square tomorrow (Saturday, 30th September) after 8pm.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

She's 'everyone's best friend',
Ashley

Janis left last night, resplendent in her Sisley pants, three-inch heels and those elusive spectacles. A befitting way for a GG to leave for France--worrying about how she'd look in these last photographs, hating her spectacles immensely.

Although the name "glamour girls" was coined by Aunty Mabel (another glamqueen in her own right) a year or two later, it was Janis who first showed me that being glamourous and being holy can happen simultaneously. They are not opposites. For she would come in her clothes that got her in trouble with the older folk, but but be the purest, godliest example there was. And still she taught us to submit where submission was due, and dress to avoid stumbling anyone.

Now, many Cafe Cartel breakfasts and Mango tops and glam photos later, she has moved on. To the "glamourous country" as Ashley put it. Will that happen to us? Can it please happen to us? We've followed in her footsteps as long as we've been able, and now where will life take us? Will we marry the Unlikely Choice and find undreamed-of happiness? A little home with teak furniture, a life in another land, God's best in every area?

I believe we'll find out in the next couple of years.

Unapologetically a gg,
gen

Beautyshop Review: the worst manicure ever

What do we want from a salon manicure? Pretty nails? Those aren't hard to find. I've tried all manners of nail services, from nail art in tiny bugis stalls to scented flower luxury pedicures with velvet-backed couches, and I know that pretty nails are pretty much available anywhere. But pretty nails are not the point of manicures. Because I'm looking at my hands now, newly fuschia-ed and shining and presentable, but that's not enough to make me feel manicured.

The nail parlour being charged for Dissatisfactory Service is Nail Palace at the heartlander's mall near a certain university in the west. I had seen enough friends getting manicures during lunch breaks to delay my turn any longer. It is a rather decent shop,with 24 osim-ish chairs for pedicures, a pink theme, more than 2 whole sets of OPI nail varnish, hand and foot dryers, manicurists in uniform and nametag, and whatever is superficially important in a salon.

But oh dear me.

It started when my manicurist kept pushing me to get the full manicure over the express, because apparently my cuticles were in her way. Then there were casual but still tolerable nosy questions, such as whether I'd gotten a full pedicure before, and where, and where do I study, and am I shy? I was a little miffed that she kept laughing at my Chinese, but I just swallowed it. I even forgave her enough to buy a future pedicure-manicure appointment. But then. While my nails dried, she whipped out a scrap of paper and scribbled out the details of their promotional package deal, the way car dealers negotiate down payments. And behold, there came an onslaught of insurance agent tactics as i have never seen in any place that professes to pamper. But I wasn't born stubborn for nothing. I gave her a multitude of sound reasons why I didn't want to pay $380 at one shot for a package deal (most of all because I don't even want to return, but I was nice enough not to say it). She responded with a multitude of pouts and counter-questions. It was like a martial arts scene except that my hands were trapped under the nail dryer. The most memorable line my manicurist used was, "You should practice your Chinese more, it's really terrible!" Gee, how motivating. Finally I silenced her with "it's ok, if i just keep coming and paying for separate manicures, won't you make more money?"

The boss came round as she finalised the receipt. When she heard that her employee hadn't managed to convince me to buy their package deal, she turned on me with large eyes of determination. I cut her off by taking my wallet out and paying quickly.
So now I have one more pedicure and manicure to endure. Does anybody want it as a birthday present? Because I would rather pay more and go to Strip any given day and bask in the satisfactory and luxurious silence of a true manicure.

-genevieve

I think one of the most enjoyable things to do when you don't have anything in particular to do is to walk slowly down Orchard Road, stopping in front of the windows at Paragon and casting a flippant yet critcal eye at the Burberry, Prada, YSL and Valentino displays.

"She dreams of Tiffany diamonds and fast cars
That white Oscar de la Renta dress
The raw touch to a Kate Spade bag
And a midnight shopping spree."

Much love -

A penthouse in the heart of The Big Apple; a villa over-looking the Pacific Ocean. The Glam Girls cars: BMW Convertible and Mercedes CLK Cabriolet. Expansive gourmet kitchen and breakfast by our eternity pool. Canopy beds with sheer curtains and a satin king-sized bed. A Maltese, Golden Retriever and 7 Felines. Nothing beats us and our winsome 7-star hotel -- The Glamourette.

Ashley, Genevieve, Kate and Scarlett.

+ the royal m.a.s.h. +

WHITE: Black ruled for winter, but everything has lightened up for summer and you can wear white from top-to-toe once the sun comes out. From full length skirts to sexy cropped pants, slick accessories and plenty of broderie anglais prettiness, it's romantic and edgy and cool - and anything you want it to be. (Just ensure it's not that time of the month again.)

Roll on summer.

sharon*

Fashion 101

The best invention next to the push up bra is fake eyelashes! Its a fast, easy, and not forgetting glamourous way to brighten up those peepers! Forget 2 in 1 mascaras with fibres or worst! perming your eye lashes at the salon!

Methodology:
1.) Always ensure that the eye are is cleaned with no debris, sebum, existing eye make up.
2.) Try the original length before trimming eyelashes to the desired length to suit your eye size (My dear, It is not glamourous to be on the street looking like a drag queen!) or your personally preference. (Let me reiterate that being a drag queen should not be a preference)
3.) Apply fake eyelash glue sparingly to lash band. Wait a few seconds for adhesive to become sticky.
4.) Using tweezers or if you are blessed with steady surgeon-like hands, position false eyelashes as close as possible to your natural lash and press ends into place. Gently press across entire lash to set it.
5.) Using liquid eyeliner, line as close as possible to the lash line. This will hide the lash band and make it less obvious that its a fake eyelash.
6.) Crimp lashes and add mascara.
7.) Hit the town with your girlfriends!

When the night is over, gently peel false eyelashes band off the lid, starting at the outer corner. Remove adhesive from the band and place them back in the tray till the next use.

Remember! take care of your eyes while using the falsies. It is unglamorous to come down with eye infections and irritations.

So other glam-wannabes out there, what are you waiting for? Grab your fake eyelashes from your nearest beauty counter and you now have a perfect reason to bat those luscious lash!

xoxo
Shu

And I thought I was taking a photo of myself when I took this shot on my mobile phone. When boredom sets in, vanity comes into play. But look what I ended up taking instead in the background. He shall remain anonymous to protect his identity, because any male who borrows my compact mirror and looks into it so intently definitely requires a protected identity.

What do you call a male that is vainer than you? Whose bathroom is lined with more facial products than yours, who spends longer than you getting ready every morning, who actually uses moisturiser and cover-sticks on his face, who carries around packets of facial tissues and who borrows your lip gloss and your compact mirrors? A metrosexual, perhaps?

I suppose if one dated someone like that, you can be assured that your boyfriend will never look bad, and probably never embarrass you with an oily complexion. But that affeminate look doesn't work for me. I find it hard to accept a boyfriend that aims to look better than me, and probably appreciates his own good looks more than mine. Do you really want to live with someone who fights with you for the mirror because he thinks that preening himself is of utmost importance? A man has to be slightly scruffy and tanned and someone that exudes masculinity and not possess a face that could probably beat yours in a female beauty pageant. My ideal boyfriend would dress in Polo Ralph Lauren and Abercrombie & Fitch, with a beautiful bronzed tan and hair styled to look like he just got out of bed.

Of course, different women have different preferences and there have been some who have fallen for the charms of this metrosexual. But being a glam girl, do you really want a pseudo glam boy as your life partner? Chew on it.

- Melia

Glamourgirls are not born to be anonymous, so please don't forget to sign off again.

Anyway, i had a shopping dream last night about us! We were at a church camp in malaysia, and we were supposed to be playing a lame game in a shopping mall. Naturally, shu, melia and i escaped into the shops. There was a chingchong t-shirt store with chinese new year canto music blaring in the background, but the t-shirts were fabulous. Imagine your junkfood-type prints at pasar malam prices (i have a mouthful of words for pasar malams, but that shall come another time). Unfortunately we were broke, and we agreed that we'd come back after collecting cny money. Then it was a mad race through the shops before the game-time was up. "Should we be going back?" i kept asking, annoyingly paranoid and prudish in my dream, what a horror. But shu and melia just ignored me and kept shopping. The last stop was Aussino -definitely influenced by their hall decor talk on sunday- which was filled with pretty pretty cloth lanterns for the bedroom.

Shu showed me this pillowcase with a huge terry cloth mousehead stitched onto it. It had the most enormous ears any mouse has ever had in the history of applique sewing. "Isn't this so cute?" she gushed in her genteel shu way. "We got one each for our room!" The pillowcase was a washed-out hospital blue, and the mousehead was puke-brown. I had nothing to say.

Melia yanked out a metallic peach pen and bent over the cashier counter to write her name on her pillowcase.

--

Bad case of dream shopping, i know. But i've had worse, in which my bcbg-and-ninewest friend bought knee-high camel-colored suede boots with embroidered flowers in all the colors of the chinese rainbow from a BATA SALE. So be grateful for your ugly pillowcases, because at least they were from aussino.

julie