9.10.2017

Bali Photo Diary

































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8.21.2017

24/7: 21


Eyes are closed and hands are linked together in clenches. A little girl's scream is her utter candidness towards flying. The wheels starts moving and there's a very loud silence heard from the engine machine until the plane takes off. Buildings and houses gets smaller as we fly higher. The ground rushes so fast in the air as if we're motionless, and I think, I am never so close to floating clouds, to the purple evening sky, something I always gaze at on my way home everyday. Everything is just as beautiful as any other day yesterday, only today I'm only a glass window away from it.

From my window seat I see the sky gets older by night. Then I started to question whether stars really exist because all I can see are plane lights. Are we at the highest point of stratosphere yet? Half-buried in my own thoughts I confide to sad songs on my playlist. Jason Mraz -  Plane. About how I can't see any house from here. Or how to hand a square of the airport. How I think human sadness are somewhat self-taught because all babies cry when they were born. How in a few hours I will yet again commemorate another anniversary of blankness and prodigy; getting older.

24/7 to me is July twenty fourth, 1996. I was born on a Wednesday, and I picture it to be a quiet summer day  with a chance of wonderment. My parents decided to name me after their names, featuring the blonde supermodel Schiffer, and the bountiful Mrs. Gorbachev. I am only a day old and a fist small but they have put such a glorious devotion to me. But who I am now is not who I am a thousand years from now. Bodies will be decayed and names will be forgotten. Like footsteps on the sand, all will be vanished in a wave roll. Even these words I have been trying to pull for the past hours will somehow be eaten up by time. And unless I'm someone's Bella Luna, no one will ever sing an ode of me or reread my writings every night just to put themselves to sleep. Even if someone did write my name in calligraphies, it will only be a placeholder between oblivions. C'est la vie.

Throughout the years I experience the things that have brought such a turning point on the way I see life. Being left alone in an empty street, somewhere between running away and coming back home. Sadness is time-consuming. Mourned, I look over the choices I unconsciously made. How things would have ended differently if I had used little less logic. Heart was broken into shatters but no apologies were ever offered. Those morning yawns and evening glees, where did they go? People carved paths only to go separate ways and I wish friendship lasted but sometimes bonds are only flukes. Life happens 24 hours a day, 7 days a week but it never promised to be exactly like yesterday. All I'm trying to do is keep up.

24/7 to me is a matter of perspective; all those time I've lost or all the time I have to start over. I choose to see it as a chance to start again, making peace with fate. I reassure myself that things happen for a reason. Replacing beliefs with scenarios, preparing for consequences. The sun is warmer today and my heart is lured away by the scent of late summer days. Dancing to new tunes never felt so good. Old flame flung and I'm getting to know love even better from a distant way. Life blossoms and blooms again.

24/7 to me is chasing dreams. To do the impossible. To complete all the checks on my bucketlist. To travel India for months and dance in the streets of Rio like the scene in Twilight. To be a friend to someone over their 5-minute-long crying sound through voice note, or through silly videos we recorded when we were drunk. We will laugh at every weird shape of avocado until our faces hurt. I'll love. Every little insect, and every giant tree. Both myself and the people around me, including actors and singers and writers that don't have any idea that I exist. I'll meet the one and we'll fall hopelessly in love. We'll buy Balinese hippie buddha statues in every color to put on our living room tables. Our children will be named after our muses and we'll grow old together riding bikes and chasing sunsets.

24/7 is... what goes without saying...
I just hope your heart is as calm and serene as the skies above me as I'm writing this...


July 23rd,
somewhere between Jakarta and Bali,
A

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7.03.2017

Style This: Distressed Denim

Everyone always have a thing for something. I have this thing with distressed denim - or basically anything distressed, shredded, have unfinished ends, or even holes on it - you probably have figured it out by now. I always think denim as lifetime investment. Not only because I can wear it everyday as it matches all of my things, its material is also not as fragile as any other fabrics, don't you agree? From the runway, to it girl Hadid, to streetstyle, everyone is wearing it. And they have their own favorite shade of denim. Few weeks ago I picked this oversized denim jacket because, as a matter of fact, I don't have any. It's a light blue oversized denim jacket that has distressed detail here and there. Plus, although it looks like it is, it's not heavy or too thick at all! I don't know about you but I hate thick and rigid denim fabric considering where I live is hot, and could be really humid some of the time. 


As seen, Hadid is Canadian tuxedo stylish walking on the street pairing it with her black mules. Back to SS15 Faustine Steinmetz amazed me by the crazy shred and distress detail... pairing it with whites and greys. Inspired by the way high fashion designers and celebrities styled their distressed denim, I'd like to tone down my color palette a little to highlight this denim piece. I'm wearing a white v-neck t-shirt with a pair of black cigarette pants and black espadrilles, which is also my laidback/lazy day starters. Completing all of these basics is the distressed denim and silver earrings. Something I'd wear on weekends, out for a movie or hangout with friends.

What do you always have a thing for? And how do you style it?


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