Saturday, 31 December 2016

Thinking back over 2016...

I just cast an eye over last year's New Year's Eve post, where I sound very sensible and gave myself some equally logical advice: that life's a work in progress. I'd forgotten last year's resolutions, but reviewing them now.

My 2016 plans were:

+ To get up earlier: A complete and utter failure. I have come to accept that I am an 'afternoon person'. I get up at 10am, go to bed at 2am, and my peak hours of productivity are between 1 and 5pm. I have been trying to skew my schedule to fit around this, and as such, my teaching hours are afternoons and evenings, with the odd horrible early morning (working before noon- gasp!) for marking, lesson prep and admin. I still haven't managed to shake off the sense of guilt that I get when I compare my alarm clock to friends with an office job; but in actual fact, I get 8 hours sleep and approximately a 7 hour work day + breaks + commuting time, which seems fair.

+ To stop wearing red and purple together: A success. I've been introducing more neutral colours into my wardrobe (browns and greys), and keeping jewel tones separate from each other. I'm starting to look less mad, just mildly eccentric. Next step: to stop wearing pink and yellow together...

+ To get my Masters! A rip roaring success! I haven't made much of an announcement, but you are currently reading the blog of a Master of Arts, Distinction.

Oh alright then, so this is the announcement. I'm pretty chuffed. I've lined up a few academic opportunities which start immediately in the new year, and. I will also be preparing some essays to submit to academic journals. I want to keep treading the balance between Diaspora Studies, Cultural Studies, and the Histories of Fashion & Performance Costume.

Small starts, small steps, so do wish me luck.

Friday, 7 October 2016

What I'm Reading: Autumn Edition

Now that I've handed in my Masters dissertation and no longer have a reading list as long as my arm (literally - my bibliography was 8 pages), it's nice to introduce varied bedside and tube-time reading to my daily routine of writing, eating, and knitting. It's also nice to do more than only reading the relevant chapter of a book because you're running out of time. There are many texts that I'd like to revisit, and I'm sure I will; but for now I'm having a little bit of a break from academic writing. Here's what's on my nightstand now.

This Changes Everything by Naomi Klein (2014)
I heard Klein give the Edward Said Memorial Lecture at the Southbank Centre earlier this year. I'm now reading her latest book, which the lecture referred to. She is a compelling speaker and a meticulous writer, quite incorruptible. This book, about the climate crisis, is kind of depressing as it demonstrates how much power has been taken out of the hands of people thanks to corporate legislation. As she puts it, truly effective green solutions are not going to be achieved by middle-class people shopping at farmer's markets. It's an important book; we need more people like her.

Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller (1934)
As I summarised on Twitter: 'Horny young man wanders around Paris, feeling hungry and trying to write.' I don't love Henry Miller anything as much as Anaïs Nin, but I'm still enjoying Tropic of Cancer. It feels ruthlessly contemporary, in many ways showing how little we've moved on since 1934.

Tales of Two Cities, Hong Kong and Singapore edited by Alice Clark-Platts, S. Mickey Lin, Edmund Price, Harmony Sin (2015)
I often have a book of short stories on the go. I think that I actually prefer them over novels. I found this book in the big Kinokuniya in Takashimaya mall in Singapore. Kinokuniya is an international Japanese book chain, but I always visit it when I'm in Asia because it has excellent pan-Asian contemporary literature published in English. Tales of Two Cities is a collection of stories set in Singapore and Hong Kong featuring authors chosen from the respective local writers' groups. I don't love all of the stories, but it's an entertaining insight into life in these two cities, that I spent time in over the summer.

Wednesday, 5 October 2016

Waste Not, Want Not: Slow Fashion October over at Tailoring Tales

This year, I'm participating in Slow Fashion October, a month-long conversation about fashion, clothing, craft and sustainability hosted by Karen Templer of Fringe Association. A key part of my passion for costume & textiles has been sustainability, and I have long been working to destigmatise home-made, second-hand clothing. To dress in clothing that does not have an adverse impact on the environment or human rights, one does not have to own a wardrobe full of beige tree-hugger chic. Now going by the moniker 'Slow Fashion', sustainable clothing choices reverberate into our deeper lifestyle choices.

As my personal spin on slow fashion relates to home dressmaking and second-hand shopping, I've chosen to blog my participation in Slow Fashion October over on my craft blog Tailoring Tales. I hope you'll join in the conversation there!

Click here to read about the Slow Fashion October initiative
Click here to read my posts over on Tailoring Tales

Tuesday, 4 October 2016

The Underpinnings Museum :: Kickstarter Campaign

Image courtesy of The Underpinnings Museum; photography by Tigz Rice Studios

With museums around the world on subjects are varied as bottles, fans and shoes, or even focussing solely on brands, it seems incredible that no similar resource has existed on the topic of underwear. Often taken for granted in daily life, or given limited focus in historical research, underwear is in fact key to the development of silhouettes in fashion history, a foundation both corporeal and conceptual.

The Underpinnings Museum is a new, exciting venture from a trio of lingerie experts of differing fields: designer Karolina Laskowska, blogger and academic researcher Lori Smith, and photographer Tigz Rice. Consisting primarily of a digital archive, it will offer clear and detailed photographs of historical pieces to demonstrate the evolution of underwear throughout the ages. The initial collection being documented dates from 1880-1960, but the Museum aims to develop its contemporary collection, and even offers a plan for working with current lingerie brands.

Aimed at a broad audience of lingerie enthusiasts, designers, and researchers, this resource will - amazingly- be free to access. However, it's not there yet. The founders aim to launch the Museum in the new year, and are now running a Kickstarter campaign in order to fund the materials and resources needed to complete preparing and documenting the digital archive of historical pieces. And so, in order to open this fantastic resource to the public, they need you!

The campaign has already raised just under 50% of their target in the first 3 days, and it runs until Sunday 30th October. Campaign donations start from just £1, and there are a range of rewards available for donors.

Click here to read in depth about the museum on their Kickstarter page.

Sunday, 2 October 2016

Dandyism & Black Masculinity at the Photographer's Gallery

Continuing in my time-honoured tradition of not making it to an exhibition till the day it closes, I finally saw the show Made You Look: Dandyism & Black Masculinity at the Photographer's Gallery on its final day last weekend.

It was a great show, displaying a carefully-hung collection of photographs which were chosen with both sensitivity and a sense of humour by curator Ekow Eshun. The show explored active articulations of Black male identity through style, operating under the notion of the performative nature of masculinity. In a mixture of formal portraits, documentary/street photography, self-portraits and more, the exhibition challenged the notion of the Black body as a sexualised object. The subjects' self-presentation was key to the show, and their demonstration of alternative modes of masculinity than is typically given to Black men in media and popular culture that typically caters to a White gaze.

Two favourite photographers were the MoroccanHassan Hajjaj's exuberantly colourful portraits dominated by colour and pattern; and Malian Malick Sidibé's black-and-white 1970s portraits. In these two photographers' works, as well as more generally across the exhibition, the subjects gazed forth penetratingly through exuberant pattern and often-extravagant style; clothing is used as a tool to enhance the articulation of their identity. It's this common theme that displays interesting men with great style - and creates a clear difference between portrait and fashion photography.

Curator Ekow Eshun's video of the show is also available online, as is his accompanying essay. I can only recommend you explore both.

Tuesday, 27 September 2016

The Future is in the Dressing Up Box: at the Burberry Maker's House

London Fashion Week has been and gone, and fashion labels are once again trying to cheat the apparent death of the industry by doing something different. Burberry did something quite radical which was stage a pop-up showroom that was open to the public. No press passes, no booking: you could just walk in off the street. Which is what I did on Sunday.

Tucked away in a side street off Charing Cross Road, pedestrians were beckoned through a courtyard dressed as a Victorian greenhouse, and into a vast building. It was intriguing and inviting - way more so than actual Burberry boutiques. Through a cafe serving delectable treats amongst a swarm of selfie-snapping visitors, a dark hall downstairs featured many different craftspeople from the organisation The New Craftsmen carrying out demonstrations of their practice. Life sculpture, calligraphy, ceramics and printmaking all featured, and live readings of passages from Virginia Woolf's novel Orlando took place - an inspiration for the Burberry collection. Up the grand central staircase, a video of the catwalk show was projected, and a double-loop of mannequins lined the room. The collection was rather androgynous - appropriatel for the Orlando theme - and it was unclear whether the looks were intended as menswear or womenswear. But then, the whole feeling of the collection was a grand dressing up box filled with muted garments from an antiques dealer, where the evocative nature of a garment, rather than a gendered purpose, is key.

The designers clearly tucked into their fashion history tomes when brainstorming this collection - and it's all the better for it. Sometimes unexpected, occasionally humorous, it was above all imminently wearable. But then again, appearing as an elegant but eccentric mash-up of garments, one could just as easily re-create looks from this collection by going through Granny and Grandpa's wardrobe.

I've written about the knitwear on my craft blog, which was my favourite aspect of the collection. But my second favourite part was all the pyjamas. There was pretty much every single type of pyjama you could think of in this show (minus the slobby boyfriend's T-shirt kind). Silky dressing gowns, boxy two-pieces, lacey negligees and babydolls, and cropped boxer shorts - all layered up on top of each other in a cacophony of textures and cuts. It's the homeworker's collection, giving fashion to freelancer-lifestyle. It's a very inspiring suggestion of how to dress when you finally drag yourself out of your bedroom-office at 2.30pm with your Macbook to work at the local coffee shop/British Library till it closes. In fact, I may well bring my dressing gown with me to the BL tomorrow.

Burberry are clearly doing some clever marketing and branding with this event. Although the premise is that one can order looks from the collection directly, the majority of the general public who wandered into this show are going to be unable, or unlikely, to do so. Additionally, as long as you have access to hoarders or enjoy raiding thrift shops, it's very easy to replicate these looks yourself. So aside from generating huge amounts of press and enforcing Burberry's brand attributes (heritage, craftsmanship, tradition, fashion), I am not entirely sure how such an exhibition will lead to increased revenue.

But it was certainly full of pretty things, and the Internet loves pretty things. Perhaps that's all that matters.

Disclaimer: this blog post was written whilst fully dressed, and not in pyjamas.

Friday, 12 August 2016

Inevitable Queues and Dazzling Eats in Hong Kong

One think that immediately struck me about Hong Kong is how much Hong Kongers like to queue. No sooner does the occasion lead to a slight pause, then people start lining up one behind the other, a dynamic line of expectation waiting to enter a restaurant for lunch time yum cha, or to step onto a train (to travel to yum cha...). Queues are self-policed, and taken rather seriously; on the platform floors in the MTR stations are markers indicating where people should wait, and lines form quite regularly. There is no pushing or shoving. After a lifetime living in England followed by a six-month stint living in Sweden, I myself am very accustomed to queueing; but it is not a practice that one immediately associates with other countries. Of course, Hong Kong was a British colony for so long, it is obvious how the influence entered the territory.

Pictured above is just one of the (many!) queues that I encountered whilst in Honkers. It was outside a Szechuan restaurant close to Wong Tai Sin temple. The restaurant was inexpensive, but high, high, high up on taste.

I don't like to eat out at fancy restaurants when I am in Asia. There's just no need: you can get the most amazing meals at the humblest of establishments. This restaurant, like many in HK, seats parties squashed in next to each other at any available space; but unlike many other places I ate at during my 5-day sojourn, it was relatively spacious. Food appeared, as if by magic, through a hatch in the wall; and the waitresses paced endlessly up and down the tiled restaurant floor. You eat, dazzled by glossy pictures of food fixed up on the walls, surrounded by a glittering array of dishes in any direction you look.

And so what did we eat? This is not a food blog, but indulge me for a moment longer. Szechuan food is popular (the restaurant was packed by 5.30pm) but less common in Hong Kong, which is largely Cantonese and famous for the region's yum cha (dim sum), wonton noodles, sea food, and all manner of delicious things. We took the house speciality, noodles in a fragrant and warming soupy gravy, topped with peanuts; shared Szechuan wontons; and a dessert of sticky rice balls filled with ground black sesame, in a sweet ginger broth.

I'm hungry reminiscing about the experience, rather far away now sitting in my partner's flat, listening to the South London night that's peppered by reggae beats and the waft from the chicken shop. One day, England will have as varied, tasty, and - importantly - affordable a food culture as in Asia. I only fear  that I may be awaiting that day for the rest of my adult life!

Sunday, 7 August 2016

Portals and Hubs: Singapore Changi Airport

The border is the first experience we have of a country. Some would like it to be temporary, entirely liminal, a place for passing through; but Singapore takes tourism very seriously. Arriving in Singapore at the start of my trip, the airport is clean, calm and orderly even after midnight. Proceeding down a glass-sided escalator one is confronted with a huge wall of planting, the rainforest greenery consciously reminding us of this highly-developed island nation's jungle past. It takes hardly any time at all to get through immigration, even with forgetting to fill out a landing card and having to re-queue. Past the counter, the last-chance duty-free alcohol shop beckons. Baggage control is similarly lush, and the whole airport is filled with brushed steel, glass, and foliage.

I end up spending rather a lot of time at Changi airport this trip, as I shuttle between Singapore, Indonesia, Hong Kong; and now await my flight home to London. The airport departures lounge is like a huge hotel lobby, studded with expensive shops and plenty of comfortable places to sit; or perhaps it's more like a theme park, a miniature Singapore within. I was also surprised to discover a butterfly garden in Terminal 3. I believe that most of these photographs are of moths. Time passes ponderously, but it is not unpleasant. The authorities have done well to create a relaxing atmosphere, where the visitor retains favourable impressions of both Singapore and air travel.

Monday, 25 July 2016

Colliding with Java in Jogja

Street food seating in Jogja, July 2016

All places in the world are a mixture of the bitter and the sweet. The overall taste depends on our outlook: our capacity to endure unpleasantness, or our perspective on joy. Personal tendencies have the biggest influence, and so often when we are abroad we are seeking something left behind. Imagined concepts can be as true to the individual as concrete realities. What is it we desire when we travel to foreign lands? Pleasure, novelty, but overall a sense of authenticity that is frequently characterised and sold as a dip into the exotic unknown.

Do these places really exist? And if they do, would we really want to go to them? We stay four nights in Jogja, and by the end I am adamant that no one could accuse us of not seeing the 'real' Jogja. Indeed, unlike many places in this wide world, there are not two different sides to this city. The real Jogja is everywhere around; but whether it marries up with the perceived image of the 'real' in the East, the Orientalist vision rather than the Asian reality - well, that depends on what one hoped to find there.

Joining the locals in Jogja, shoes off and on a mat on the pavement. July 2016

In Jogja, we take a tut-tut down polluted, diesel-fumed roads; get lost searching for spices in huge markets selling all the clothes one could imagine to exist in the world; and sit in luxury air-conditioning amongst relentless traffic that's either reckless, hedonistic or selfish. We climb up newly-built temples on ancient foundations until our legs ache, and drive for hours and hours into the countryside, understanding that whilst the rural is likely to be found, the land has long been colonised. We see what the Javanese want us to see; but it is not glossy or glamorous. Entirely unlike Bali, Java exists as it exists. Arriving here, one cannot pretend to live in fantasy: Jogja is unapologetic and brash. It has the feel of a city in the area of a town, with a near-constant amplified call-to-prayer amongst a wealth of colourful people to a backdrop of green and grey buildings. This here is an Indonesian reality, quite at odds with images of tropical rainforests and unspoilt air. Make of it what you will.

Sunday, 24 July 2016

Consuming the Exotic: Discovering Oneself or Getting Lost?

Flying over a volcano in East Java, July 2016

Tourism is a balance between consuming place, and being consumed. Images of land, space and place are cleverly constructed to weave an imagined experience that frequently is only as real as its own discourse allows it to be. You consume by buying, and you consume by eyeing. Coming to the Far East as a Westerner, there is an extra degree of foreignness, a search for exoticism and difference that is entirely played to in order to create, and sell, experiences memorable.

Finding yourself in the East is a horrible cliché that's too commonly lived out by foreigners, with varying degrees of success. But in many ways, all trips are ways of testing oneself when out of routine. Time away from home is temporary. Being finite, it is a form of escapism mental as well as corporeal. I like to make my own itinerary on trips, to steer away from pre-arranged activities and large groups. This is not always successful, but with each trip I make I learn about how to make decisions. Frequently, I forget past lessons, the moral of the story coming back to me in flashes after I've already discovered my error. But the conclusion I've come to, after travelling in various 'exotic' lands, is that outsiders only see as much as locals allow us to. There is a certain desire to get lost, to explore; but tourism is a lucrative business, and frequently this longing for the unknown is in fact mapped out beforehand, by hands we choose to ignore. We tread on paths already carved out.

Tuesday, 19 July 2016

Portals and Hubs: Jakarta Soekarno–Hatta Airport

Gate E4 at Jakarta Airport, July 2016

So often we find ourselves in portals or transit hubs with too much time. I've travelled all over the world having thoughts and experiences in portals and hubs, and have decided to start documenting them here on Dress Me Up, Drag Me Out. It will be interesting to hear how your experience of these liminal spaces differ from mine, and how the spaces change over time.

The airport in Jakarta is unlike many European transit hubs. The planners have endowed it with an Indonesian flavour: timber beaming, orchids, an abundance of souvenir shops, and authentically failing air conditioning. It is also full of windows: inside this airport we are definitely connected to the outside. Nonetheless, a stillness prevails inside: dramatic fleshy orchid petals of white and pink are suspended in the air, their stillness belying their life; the constructed airport stands in for a hothouse or jungle habitat. At the entrance to the souvenir shops are display of gigantic butterflies, framed and pinned onto a cardboard backing. This is not Victoriana: the butterflies are vibrantly-coloured, fresh, and not a speck of dust. They have been culled for novelty; unlike the orchids, they decorate the space by their death. Further in the shops are a bounty of carved wooden sculptures featuring Buddha, Barong, monkeys, and Rama; stories from the past made available to the present.

Jakarta airport, July 2016
The airports in the London conurbation are a world of difference. There are no national flora of roses, thistles, daffodils or shamrock, and any local fauna such as mice or rats are hidden from view; that is, until the visitor reaches the Underground, where they frolic merrily on platforms and tube tracks. Instead of polished stone and solid timber, we tend to have kilometres-worth of dull, industrial carpet with no thought for beauty. It makes me wonder what visitors' first impressions of the United Kingdom really are, especially after leaving such calm and decorated surrounding such as these in Jakarta.

Sunday, 17 July 2016

Foreignness in an Other City

Self-portrait in Singapore, City Hall, July 2016
Passing through Singapore, and passing through Jakarta, I consider matters of race in a new light. Locals approach me in their own language, immediately phrasing questions in Mandarin or Indonesian, respectively. My mixed-racial facial features do not form a barrier to acceptance in South-East Asia. It's quite unlike how I'm viewed in Europe, when the European parts of my heritage are ignored or overlooked in favour of the seemingly-exotic hints of Otherness. Here, I'm filed away neatly and immediately as 'Chinese' (or probably 'mixed'), with no need to interrogate my right to be here, or question my circumstance of passing through this space.

Portrait of a crowd as depicted in Singapore. City Hall, July 2016
Note the many spectacle-wearers!

Both Singapore and Indonesia are intensely multi-cultural; Singapore, for instance, writes signs in four languages as a standard: English, Chinese, Malay and Hindi. Despite this, these countries certainly are not without their own problems of racism and extremist nationalism. Nonetheless, it becomes clear that the vision of a nation's face need not be narrow, and that it is indeed possible to imagine nationhood as encompassing people from multiple, and mixed, ethnic backgrounds. Northern Europe definitely needs to learn from this progressive stance on race in these ex-colonial countries.

Friday, 15 July 2016

Transitions in Transit

Jakarta Airport, July 2016

I write today from Jakarta Airport, having lost half a day in time-travel. As I flew east, I moved forwards in time as well as distance. How strange that the Euro-centric view of the East has been that Asia and the so-called ‘third world’ is backwards, behind, when we Europeans read from left to right, horizontally along a page. The journey from West to East mimics our sense of the rise to the right-hand side as making progress. Paradoxically, the docks allowing entrance from the East to the West have historically been the poorer areas in cities, the conflux of docking sailors brewing licentiousness, encouraging prostitution, leading to miscegenation. Mixing and blurring of boundaries and cultures has always led the way for progress, development, and new ideas; perhaps that is why it has equally been monitored, scrutinised, and regulated.

By the time I arrive at my destination, after more lost hours spent in travelling, waiting, delays, and airport connections, I will have been in transit for more than twenty-four hours. During that time, I have turned twenty-five. In some ways I’ve been awaiting this moment for over a decade, when I first watched Marilyn Monroe as Sugar Kane squeak onscreen: ‘Twenty-five, that’s a quarter of a century. Makes a girl think!’ My birthday falls on the anniversary of Bastille Day, the French Revolution. 2016 has been a tumultuous year in world events; not a week goes by without some tragedy or coup around this wide world. We are not truly safe anywhere: on local streets, at restaurants, in clubs, on trains, planes, workplaces and place of worship. The answer is not to stay at home: conversely, we must keep on going out, meeting people, living fulfilling lives. It’s an oft-repeated truth that the only thing that we can be sure of in life is our death. During my twenty-four hours, I have been more aware than ever of my privilege, and thankful for my safety. Truthfully, it is impossible to predict what will happen next. Living isolated in Scandinavia for the first half of this year demonstrated to me more fully than ever before how important it is to nurture connections with family and friends, and not to take loved ones for granted. Be sensible, but don’t have regrets: this has been my motto in recent years, and is more pertinent than ever.

Tuesday, 12 July 2016

AUB Costume degree show at the Oxo Tower Wharf, London

Multi-media costume designs by Edie B Smith
Exhibition design & model box by Zoe Parkinson
18th Century glory by Thomas Murphy
The BA Costume course at the Arts University Bournemouth showed a striking and energetic exhibition at the Oxo Tower Wharf last week. Thanks to creative exhibition design that solved the always-challenging brief of the touring exhibition, Arts University Bournemouth graduates stood out at the group show, which featured several out-of-London theatre design courses.

The course continues to deliver graduates with strong costume making skills and a multi-media approach to costume design. A genuine enthusiasm for costume in its widest sense is felt throughout; featured here are just a few pieces that stood out to me.

Edie B. Smith's use of collage and stitch on calico merged the designer and maker through the medium of costume design
Holly Isaacs' great 1930s tailoring is appropriately set in quite an art-deco manner thanks to the exhibition design by Zoe Parkinson
Intricate beadwork by Beth Hicks
Edie B Smith's costume designs riffed on domesticity and home sewing
Laura Sanders' pantomime dame costume feeds my current research into chinoiserie and costume
I couldn't not snap this fabulous & gold Isis costume by another Anushka - this was made by Annushka Rogers
Showcasing the diversity of students' costume making: tailoring, ballet, corsetry and period making.

Very best of luck to this year's graduates on their future paths!

Click here for more information on BA Costume and Performance Design at the Arts University Bournemouth.

Friday, 1 July 2016

Coups, crises and the EU

There are so many things that I want to be writing about, but for the last seven days I have felt completely unable to move on from the shocking, tragic, confusing news of Brexit. I'm not the only one: you hear it mentioned absolutely everywhere: on the streets, on buses and tubes, in cafes, at university, on the phone and online. In recent days, more events have transpired and it's a turbulent time in British politics. I don't want to dwell on it more than necessary: for endless information, read the newspapers, online or in broadsheet. But I'm writing this very short acknowledgement to pay tribute to something momentous that is happening in my home at the moment, and I make a short wish for better times than right now.

Friday, 17 June 2016

Call for participants! Researching samfu, or Chinese pyjamas


I'm a postgraduate student of fashion history at the London College of Fashion. I'm fascinated by periods when Asian styles were popular and fashionable in 'Western' fashion, especially the trend for chinoiserie in the 1950s. I'm currently researching the samfu suit, also known as 'Chinese pyjamas'. However, I'm finding it quite hard to find examples of this suit to study, and very little has been written about it. 

Help needed! 

I'm searching for people willing to participate in this research project! Do you:
  • Own examples of samfu/Chinese pyjamas, either your own or passed down from relatives?
  • Know about making or buying this suit?
  • Have memories of seeing this suit being worn, either in overseas Chinese communities, in non-Chinese circles, or in films or TV?
  • Have family photos of this suit, especially pre-1980? 

I am very interested by the overseas Chinese communities, such as in Singapore, Malaysia, Hong Kong and Europe. However, I am equally interested in speaking to people who do not have Chinese heritage about this suit, which was very stylish in the 1950s. If you are able to contribute to this project in any way, please do get in touch.

Drop me a line!

I would love to speak to you at your convenience, either in person or online via e-mail or Skype. I'm conducting research during June and July. I am based in London, but will be in Singapore for 3 weeks from mid-July.

-Anushka Tay

Below are some more images to give you a flavour of what I am researching:




Images sources (left to right, top to bottom):
1. Li Lihua at Clifford Pier, 1956 : two people. National Library Board Singapore. Source
2. Mrs Philip Isles wearing Chinese coolie pyjamas, 1948. Life. Source
3. A Chinese girl, full-length portrait. National Library Board Singapore. Source
4. Ah Kew, full-length portrait. National Library Board Singapore. Source
5. Vogue, 1953. Source.
6. Simplicity home dressmaking pattern, 1950s. Source
7. Hong Kong, Mong Kok, 2006. Ivar Hagendoorn. Source
8. Doris Day in Pillow Talk, 1959. Source.