MASiF 2010

Hello wonderful people. Sorry its taken so long for be to blog.

I wanna talk about an event that I went to tonight. MASiF 2010 in the Concourse of Pavilion Kuala Lumpur.

No, I'm not gonna talk about what MASiF is. Not now. I'm too boiled up about something ELSE to talk about MASiF. If this were a magazine, I'd oblige & write about the bigger picture. But this is MY blog where I talk about what I wanna talk about. So if you want the usual media schmeel, please by all means, look elsewhere.

I want to talk about the FASHION SHOW. Or rather, the content.

[I took no photos because I think its just a bit... jakun to take photos with a cameraphone. So unprofessional.]

ANYWAY. So there I was, guest of WM, seated front row. On my right was a man named Kee, who seemed to have what's known as snake-overload; his shoes were snakeskin with snake heads on them. His pants had snakeskin patches on them. His jewellery were of snake-motifs. EVERYTHING was snake-inspired. (I wouldn't have tried THAT hard, but I have to admit that the jewellery was nice).

SO. The fashion show begins. And out troops these Malaysian designers whom I have never heard of (save for Melvin Lam). Being the last night of MASiF, the Organisers saved the very best (kononnya) for last. Some of the designs were lovely, others just RUBBISH (RE: the towel-dress). Aside from Melvin's collection, I managed to find fault in EVERY. SINGLE. PIECE.

WHY you ask. HOW I hear you scream. YOU'RE SUCH A NITPICKING B*TCH, I can imagine is running through your head.

Its simple; the details. Its all well & good if your design is stunning, but if your stitching is like rubbish & I can see stray fibres everywhere, WHAT IS THE FLIPPING POINT? I mean, really. There were a few (just a handful) of pieces which were stunning & flawless. Most were either 'cacat'/imperfect, overdone, or just plain mengada.

WHY LAH. You're supposed to be the PRIDE of Malaysian design (I was surprised TAS didn't have a slot). You're either established or an up-and-coming. Either way, YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO REJECT ANYTHING LESS THAN PERFECT. So WHAT THE EFF WAS I SEEING?

Say what you please, but I believe that the little-little details can make the biggest difference. Details can make or break anything. So what have you just done?
[Sent from my BlackBerry® Bold™ 9700 smartphone]

You would never have guessed...

So here's a hypothetical situation. You're a celebrity. You've been invited to one of the hottest events on a Thursday night. So you tweet about the door gifts. One (or several) of your followers reply to that tweet saying things like 'OHMYGOSH, I so wanna go!' and all that.

What do you do? What would you assume a celebrity would do?

Yeah, figures. But last Thursday was different. I was the follower that went 'OHMYGOD, I wish I could be there!'. Raja Putri Atilia was the celebrity.

[I'm just gonna zone out and go, OHMYGOSH she is one of the nicest people I know, only second to my aunt Wahti Mahidin. But Wanti has had a lot more time to build her title, so....]

Can any of you guess what she (Ms. Atilia) said?

"Yeah, sure! I'll just put your name in the guest list!"

*blink, re-read the tweet, blink once more*

Oh yeah. One of the best nights of my life. But more on that later.

So here I am, with Atilia inviting me to an exclusive event. I have TWO HOURS to get ready, find someone to go with, and get my ass to Pavilion for the launch of AJMAL (one of the worlds' most successful perfumeries).

I sent out BBM's to everyone I knew. I frantically called & texted anyone I figured would be free (hello, it was a Thursday night after all). Finally got someone.

Immerse yourself in me when I looked at my watch to see it at 7:15pm. Event starts at 8pm. I don't have a car.

MOTHERFATHER, sister brother, the whole bleeding family.

I grab a cab. Pick up the date. And we were on our way.

I walked into Pavilion at 9:04pm. The cab ride cost a whopping RM50 (on the dot). But we got there just in time to watch our hostess' first number.

I'm no big follower of Malaysian music. Mum is, as she was (and still is) involved with the Recording Industry of Malaysia (RIM), and regularly does event management (she's done so many AIMs, and she did the opening of KLIA, Sepang International Circuit, and so much more). So anyway, I knew Atilia was good.

But I, nor my date, knew she was that good. Her amazing voice guided us up to the private lounge where the event itself was held. Instantly, we were captivated by the hypnotising scent of AJMAL's 'Shadow', heightened by the smooth crooning of our hostess in the background.

I will not lie. I have been given VIP treatment multiple times before. The CELCOM BlackBerry® Storm™ 9500 launch at the SiC, the Saturday at the F1 Paddock (also at the SiC), the AIM a couple of years ago, and many others. But for some reason, the AJMAL launch seemed so much better. I don't know, possibly because of the fact it was a completely halal event, or because I felt humbled by the graciousness that is Raja Atilia Harun.

After a few awkward minutes spent blending in to the crowd, my date and I spent our night schmoozing with the invitees. It was like we were on cloud 9.

Ah, a surprise! Atilia's mother, legendary Malaysian crooner Salamiah Hassan, in an impromptu move, sang a short number (the title of which I cannot remember. I blame the rather dizzying mix of smells. Do forgive me).

More minutes spent schmoozing with the crowd. Made many a contact that night. After bidding a quick goodnight to our gracious hostess, we made our way home (which was an adventure within itself), bringing an end to an amazing event, and an amazing adventure.

My dears, its easy to stereotype the people we place on pedestals. Like my Godfather, the visionary Afdlin Shauki. People perceive him as so many things, to the point that people fail to see the fact that he is such a sweet & lovable guy, a doting husband, and a loving father.

I guess the same goes for Ms. Atilia Harun. We think this and that, when in actuality, she's a person who is merrily inclusive within a world of exclusivity.

Never forget the little guy, ya'know?

[Again, I shall zone out for a moment. Raja Atilia, semoga Allah memberkati hidupmu selama-lamanya. May He grant you His love, affection & guidance in whatever you involve yourself with, and may every matter you delve into turn out successful & productive. Amiin]

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Elitism. Not as pretty as it seems.

G'morning. Its bright and early on the 10th of May.

Last night, I was pondering the lives of successful people in the past. People who lived in the 30s, 40s & 50s, in amazing wealth. My family is lucky to know most of Malaysia's influential families, and so we have gained insight to their lifestyles.

When I asked my Grandmother of 71 about how the elite used to live, she told me "They lived carefree lives, never having to worry about monetary funds or responsibility. They were impulse buyers at best, as someone I knew bought 3 Mercedes-Benz convertible cars just because she couldn't decide on a colour. Their lives were fantastic to say the least."

But what about when it came to security? Surely a canvas-top convertible isn't the safest thing on earth?

"Alah, masa dulu mana ada all these crazy people threatening to kidnap, kill and bomb. The influential people of Malaya were well respected, and as such, most didn't bother them. Not to say they didn't have any security, but it was usually limited to maybe one security guard and a dog."

"Bukan macam sekarang, dengan armoured motorcars and bodyguards."

That sent a chill down my spine.

I'm happy to say that I have befriended many a socialite, most of them very well to do when it comes to liquid assets. (How I came to be within their company is a tale within itself. Maybe I'll tell you about it some other time). And many times, I have witnessed rather outlandish approaches to security, with one friend sending 4 armed guards in advance to take up positions in trees. When I ask about these gunned monkeys, my friend just laughed and said that he never goes anywhere without them. "I used to laugh at them, until they told me that my pointing would give them away. Now I just bite my tongue and get on with it."

More recently, a friend of mine expressed annoyance over the rather alarming number of bodyguards that tail her every move in & out of the country, with the numbers rising into double-digits. Including one that follows this friend into the bathroom.

Yes people, I am genuinely shocked.

Whatever happened to that picture-perfect image of the wealthy family, the 'go anywhere, do anything' persona, and carefree life? It seems to me that us plain Joes are luckier, in the sense that we don't have shadow-cars and such. To think that while we just hop onto a bus and head down to KL for a walkabout, they'd have to plan excursions in advance.

Sounds a little drab, don't you think?

Let me just mention the few things I've done that no one with their status could ever do. They'd probably never see our talented buskers in Central Market. They'd probably never go camping. You think any of them would be able to see our 'entertainers' with their imaginary worlds?

(Call me heartless, but the clinically insane are a hoot to watch, especially when what little sanity they have left is focused on directing traffic here & there.)

One of my most prized memories is when I came back from a corporate treasure hunt (of which I was an organiser) in God knows where, and I took the coastal road back to KL. I took a right turn somewhere, and I landed in a small, sleepy town called Sungai Lembing. I stopped the car, and I took a walk around, mingling with the locals (average age: 73) and taking in the lovely scenery. I was quickly accepted into the community within about 15-minutes, and I spent 1 1/2 hours after that having a lazy coffee in a classic kopitiam.

Now imagine: If I had pulled up in a motorcade of expensive automobiles, with uniformed guards following my every move, do you think I'd have gotten the treatment that I did?

What I'm trying to say is that the world has evolved into a truly disgusting place over the past few decades. From carefree to paranoid, there is no room for ordinary pleasures when you're one of the creme-de la-creme.

When in actuality, its those little things that make life beautiful.

Fun or happiness doesn't come from 5-star hotels or chartered yachts. It comes from having a laugh with the elderly in Sungai Lembing, or getting freaked out by the old clinic with the sinister past in Papan.

Or walking around in Kuala Selangor.

Life is beautiful. Truly & utterly beautiful.

But what beauty can you see through 3-inch thick glass? Or wrought iron bars?

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