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New Zealand’s Next Top Model, Cycle 1: Fug down under?

nzntm christobelle anger ruby joy

Onto the next stop in my English-speaking tour round the world’s Next Top Model franchise – New Zealand, Cycle 1.

Since it was New Zealand’s first ever cycle, we can excuse a few of its teething problems – a panel that hadn’t learnt how to be charismatic yet, some cheap amateur photography, occasional bouts of clunky editing and a fairly rough gang of finalists. But you just can’t keep a good format down.

christobelle grierson-ryrie nzntmvictoria williams nzntm

For each of these negatives, there was a glowing positive. So whilst stern and humourless Sara Tetro was evidently handed hosting duties in some sort of Faustian pact for offering a contract with her agency as the prize, we were also gifted with one of the best ever judges on any NTM show. I have no idea who Colin Mathura-Jeffree is (model slash actor slash all-round heap of fabulousity, since you asked), but he’s a complete natural. His role is somewhat ill-defined – not a stylist but hanging around the girls with the same persistence as any judge with a Jay in their name. And thank God he hangs around, as he’s hilarious. Of course, now I’ve said that, I can’t remember a single hilarious thing he ever said but his one-liners were quick, witty and un-contrived, especially in the face of wooden Sara, who seemed to find his presence an irritant. One of my favourite moments was when a contestant was castigated for referring to a designer’s clothes as ‘comfy’; a week later when she didn’t like her outfit in a shoot, Colin wickedly asked if it had at least been comfy. My hoots of laughter only increased as an oblivious Sara tutted like a grandma seeing a mini-skirt.

It helped that Colin was also prettier than half the girls that cycle and seemed to view his every appearance as an opportunity to raid his dressing-up box. He turned up as a punk, a maharaja, a matador, a dandy, an extra from a Boy George video… a montage of all his looks may have proved more entertaining than the show itself. Screw catwalk practise – he turned up one week just to throw cakes at the girls! And I’ve just found out that his acting debut was as a ‘sword-wielding warrior’ on Xena: Warrior Princess, which is just so utterly perfect. I hope he wears the costume to panel someday. CMJ – we salute you!

Rebecca Rose Harvey nzntmteryl-leigh felicia bourke nzntm

As usual, the judges seemed to eliminate the most obviously attractive girls in the semi-finals, leaving a pair of sisters (included to manufacture contrived sibling rivalry stories for as many episodes as possible), an African (who threw out the ‘Is it ‘cos I is black’ line as early as episode three) and a ginger bobble-headed alien on a trip to Earth (I believe that’s what constitutes “high fashion” on Next Top Model shows) who my boyfriend hated with a passion. One contestant missed a photo-shoot because she basically couldn’t be arsed.

And there was gloomy single-mother, Teryl-Leigh, who had never smiled in her life so clearly had lost all function in the corners of her mouth, meaning her every utterance came out as a monotonous misery-soaked drawl. She was such a black pit of woe, a toxic vortex of doom, that I was worried I’d catch depression just from watching and being sucked into her beautiful sad eyes. That being said, I did quite like the cast’s first photoshoot proper, mainly down to the 1930s-aviatrix styling… very Clara Bow in Wings. (From top to bottom throughout article: Christobelle, Victoria, Rebecca Rose and Teryl-Leigh).

The show was eventually won by Christobelle Grierson-Ryrie (I swear half the battle in winning these shows having an extravagant name under your belt), who I want to say looks like a grown-up Dakota Fanning except Dakota Fanning has actually grown-up and Christobelle is only 16 so the comparison doesn’t quite pan out. Best photos above – love the poses, love the styling, there’s something girlish yet mature about her that really works.

Reality show fans may be familiar with the ‘redemption arc’ trope, where a previously dislikeable character becomes endearing – in a coup for editing prowess, Hosanna Horsfall (what a name!) didn’t just do an arc, but managed a full circle! She started a desperate antisocial try-hard, maligned for her much-practised circus freak poses. But somehow, her ability to get up Teryl-Leigh’s nose and demented determination made her oddly appealing, becoming the panel’s go-to figure for demonstrating the right attitude. But then, she started believing her own press, smugly gloated in the face of other people’s eliminations, couldn’t even be bothered to play at being civil to the other girls whilst remaining as utterly demented as ever. Her best photos (above) are the ones that capture the maniacal gleam in her eye – you genuinely believe she might drill a hole in this guy to get at the prize (especially if it was located in his spleen). Scary.

But onto the photos. Yes, the show made it look as if there were all of about 3 working photographers in the whole of New Zealand, one of whom was scrounging for extra money by being on the panel too – Craig Owens, whose first shoot was absolutely awful (cheap, hideous unflattering make-up, hideous dated styling), was somehow invited back another 2 times! It seems a basic of photography to not choose the shot where the model’s face is obscured – Owens managed to do it twice (see above)!

nzntm cycle 1 victoria laura

However, I did love his second photo-shoot, where the girls channeled emotions whilst styled like 50s film stars (see banner photo). The styling is just superb and the best shots look like they could have been publicity shots from the golden days of Hollywood. Christobelle, looking like a cross between Veronica Lake and Marlene Dietrich, does anger so perfectly here – an arched eyebrow and icy glare that’s perfect for the sort of controlled fury those stars did so well. Ruby’s photo is just pure joy – possibly my favourite from the whole season. She manages to completely engage with the viewer and looks so radiantly, naturally happy that you can’t help but burst into a smile as well. This is made better by knowing that to achieve this glow, she was thinking about the time a friend fell off her chair and smashed her head on a desk. Victoria doing seductive and eventual finalist Laura doing grief ain’t too shabby either (I love how there’s something stage-y and mannered about Laura’s, which really fits the film star brief well).

[A sidenote on Ruby: despite producers trying to contrive weight issues and attitude problems (because she muttered ‘for real?!’ when the first thing she was told on arriving on-set was that she only had two minutes for a photo), she remained breezily unbothered and utterly charming throughout the series. Her best moment was when a huge bug flew in her eye on one shoot; it separated into three parts, the body and both wings, and unable to get it all out, she had to do the photo with a wing stuck in her eye. Gross.]

It took Nigel Barker, borrowed from ANTM, to produce the most consistent set of the series. My favourite shot is actually of Teryl-Leigh, whose mournful expression works really well with the gloomy atmosphere; it really ‘captures a moment’, which is my favourite type of photography. As ever, the combination of dilapidated surroundings and couture gowns is a winner (above, Teryl-Leigh and Victoria, who was the most classically beautiful of all the finalists yet unfortunately peaked before the contest had even started).

I’ve managed to write more on this than AusNTM Cycles 4 and 5, both of which are actually better television. But with season 2 of NZNTM currently screening now, what better time to catch up on the awesomeness of CMJ? He even has his own acronym, FFS.

Stick Stick Desserts – oooh, stick you!

UPDATE: All Stick Stick locations are now closed.

Came across these perfect little tea-time snacks in the shopping mall at Hang Hau and just had to try them. We tried the Tiramisu, Chestnut Mont Blanc, Marble Cheesecake, Strawberry Cheesecake, Apple Cinnamon and Brownie (top to bottom, left to right).

The shop is called Stick Stick – all their cakes come in these small but perfectly-formed slices, or rather, sticks. So in-keeping with the small but perfectly-formed theme, I’ll try and keep my it brief as to why I thought this was such a cute concept:

  • Each one was $10. No messing about with cents or odd numbers. Easy.
  • The perfect size – not so big that you feel fat, bored or full but big enough to quell any dessert craving….
  • And small and cheap enough to justify buying plenty of different varieties! (As if I need much excuse!)
  • Neat and tidy – biscuit base stops it from falling apart, stick shape made it easy to pop in mouth and polish off far too quickly = no mess and no washing-up!
  • YUMMY! The cheesecakes were just the right amount of sweet, the apple cinnamon was like a delicious mini apple crumble and the brownie was gooey chocolate goodness with a satisfying nutty crunch.

Decisions, decisions… (click to enlarge)

I find a lot of HK desserts overly creamy and soft so the biscuit base of these makes for a nice change. In fact, the only way Stick Stick could get any better is if it offered a few comfy chairs and coffee to make it a great stop-off for shopped-out feet in the mall!

The proof of the pudding is in the eating – literally. So here’s a picture of my auntie enjoying her Mango Stick Stick with such gusto that I didn’t even manage to get a photo of it!

The ninja of cake-eating

Stick Stick, $10 each, Hollywood Plaza (Diamond Hill MTR) and East Point City (Hang Hau MTR). Their concessions rotate round various malls and department stores in Hong Kong, so if you find one, grab some!

Australia’s Next Top Model, Cycle 4: A model example?

Whilst BNTM continues to progress at a snail’s pace i.e. weekly, I’m rapidly making my way through every other English-speaking cycle in the Next Top Model franchise.

As you’ll already know, I rated AusNTM Cycle 5 rather highly. Alas, whilst Cycle 4 offered no punching of walls, swearing at end of catwalks or stealing of lines, it did have a huge bullying controversy and a thoroughly undeserving winner to recommend it – if recommend is the word! Winner Demelza Reveley may have had the flowery name and golden good looks of a Disney Princess, but what a horrid creature she was. Ringleader of the self-named ‘Bitchketeers’ (how dumb must you be to give yourself such a name knowing you’re being filmed), she sniped away unpleasantly at fellow finalist Alexandra Girdwood throughout the entire run and together with her minions, made life a living hell for contestant Alamela Rowan whilst giving simpering butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-mouth VTs. [Alamela was a bit of an oddity anyway – with her alarming poise, pale skin, sing-song voice and penchant for bursting into operatic arias, she had the air of a possessed child from a horror film.]

Quite how Demelza managed to reach the final, let alone win, remains to be seen (she also had a string of vacant-looking photos and fat hips which she did nothing about, even when another girl, Caris, was continuously badgered about her body) – especially as the final of AusNTM is partially decided by public vote. Perhaps it was because she was up against Alex, whose main claim to fame that series had been deliberately fattening up the rest of the girls with calorie-loaded muffins (pure brilliance!). She also had collagen implants, meaning her lips stayed put even when she’d left the room hours ago, a strong editorial look that didn’t always work for other shoots and was clearly more fashion-savvy and intelligent than your average NTM contestant, easily running circles around the Bitchketeers in any arguments. Or perhaps it was because of the blatant favouritism shown by host, Jodhi Meares – herself the cause of controversy for being the only head judge with credentials as a glamour model, being unable to talk without a huge red clipboard of prompts and having a last-minute freak-out which meant she didn’t present the live final and was never seen or talked about in NTM ever again.

But onto the pretty things – the photos. You already know about my love for Russell James so unsurprisingly, I’m a fan of these beach shots. I think more could have been made of the setting, yet I love the intensity he gets out of the girls. These photos have a beautiful warmth and innocence to them, with their eyes completely connecting with the camera. Who knows how much Photoshop goes into these things, but the way James captures the light, depth and glitter to models’ eyes is totally arresting. This, incidentally, is Demelza’s best photo – it wasn’t even shown on the show and is supposed to be advertising swimwear, so make of that what you will! (top to bottom: Sam, Demelza, Alex, Caris)

My other favourite shoot this season was by Simon Upton, where the girls modelled shoes whilst being harnessed to the side of a tall building. The styling here is fantastic – I love the bright colours and fluorescent make-up, which complements the dynamic energy of the poses. With such great styling and the dramatic cityscape background, the girls really didn’t have to do much (well, if you count bouncing off a wall at a 90 degree angle wearing stiletto heels and with a harness digging into you as not much). The top banner picture, which has an amazing movement to it, is of Leiden, the butch bogan of the series, who was always ‘shittin’ bricks’ and having frequent meltdowns and made for very good viewing too. Also shown are (top to bottom) are Sam, Alex and Caris – I’m still in two minds over Caris’ photo, as she either looks like a serene fallen angel or just a corpse, but at least it’s interesting, which is more than I can say for Demelza’s efforts.

I mentioned that the girls didn’t have to do much for Upton’s shoot – and Demelza certainly did just that. Not much. This photo has the air of the crew tidying up for the day and realising ‘Shit – we left a girl up there!’ Alas, Reveley was not left out to dry but had merely slipped whilst bouncing about. Never mind that by being flat-out horizontal, she ruins the proportions of the photo – the model should be the focus, not somehow hanging like a bat on the peripheries and only noticeable because of her colourful quilt-thing. The very thing she’s supposed to be selling (the shoes) barely make the frame! Oh well, at least the skyline looks nice.

Here’s the Russell James shot that was chosen for the show. I’d find it vaguely inoffensive if Jodhi Meares hadn’t suddenly started orgasming and having babies over it – made doubly awful by the fact that the girls were modelling her bikinis and so she had the sway of being the client too. Her posture’s awful, her eyes are vacant, she looks generally gormless and the whole thing’s just blah, lacking the intensity of the rest of the James’ shots. And as my boyfriend pointed out, the pose that Meares went gaga for was stolen from Willy The Wimp, a character I had no idea even existed before I was forced to Google Image to verify my boyfriend’s claims. And now, I can’t see this photo without thinking of a shy-looking monkey. Willy The Wimp for first call-out!

Great Forgotten Pop Songs: A*Teens – Closer To Perfection

It was only a matter of time before Great Forgotten Pop Songs took on a distinctly Nordic air. Scandipop is one of my great music loves – so much so I dedicated a whole unloved month to it at Teentoday. Why? Those sneaky Scandinavians simply do pop better than everyone else and have been doing so ever since Abba Waterloo-ed their way to Eurovision victory in the 70s. Prime example – Closer To Perfection by The A*Teens.

For most acts, Closer To Perfection would be the jewel in their crown, the ace in their pack, the Berry in their Glee Club. For a Scandipop act, it was mere album filler. A glittering gem on their New Arrival album, Closer To Perfection holds the distinction of not only being a great forgotten pop song of our time but also one of my all-time favourites.

The A*Teens started life as a rather dubious Abba covers act, putting an eletro sheen on classic tunes to re-sell them to a whole new teenybopper market who found Marie/Sara/Dani/Amit attractive. Abba songs are so timelessly perfect that all covers of them lie on a scale somewhere between ‘unnecessary’ and ‘blasphemous’ so I don’t think I need waste much time on the group’s earliest incarnation. America actually thought they were various Abba members’ offspring, which just about tells you everything you need to know about their early marketing (and about America).

Having realised Abba covers weren’t a viable prospect for longevity in a pop group, someone decided that the A*Teens should start recording original songs. Hand that someone a biscuit and make it a caramel chocolate digestive because from then on, it was one pop glory after another. Fronting sunny, fresh and damn catchy tracks like Floorfiller, For All That I Am and Halfway Around The World (and I make no apologies if said tunes crop up on this series at a later date), A*Teens were ready to take their place amongst Sweden’s legacy for producing pop so good that you wonder why other countries still bother. They reached their pinnacle with New Arrival album track, Closer To Perfection.

Initially a slightly underwhelming vaguely electro number, Closer To Perfection somehow makes the transition to blissfully wonderfully perfect without you even consciously realising. I account this to a sprinkling of Swedish fairy dust but if you’re looking for more earth-bound reasons, I suppose I could bang on about the quietly empowering lyrics, the stunning synths, the shiver-down-spine key change from middle eight to final chorus and a chorus that exudes a hold stronger than Derren Brown doing his spooky stuff on an unsuspecting public.

Proof that break-up songs needs not all be clenched fists and feisty divas, the chorus of ‘I’m back in the light getting over you, now I got it together, I’m stronger than ever/Back on the track with a better view and I’m getting closer to perfection cos of you’ is as quietly uplifting as the best of them.

I challenge you to find a pop number from a teen band that, vocoder-ed to the hilt and as catchy as they come, exudes quite so much obvious class. Looking at A*Teens (generally terrible) promo photos, I’m not entirely sure how they managed it myself. Closer To Perfection? Pretty much as close as they come, actually.

UK Chart Peak: Unreleased
Key lyric: ‘I’m getting closer to perfection cos of you’
Get more A*Teens: For All That I Am, Floorfiller, Halfway Around The World

Australia’s Next Top Model, Cycle 5: Pretty (young) things

This blog promised to deliver you pretty things but so far, this has consisted mainly of cute objects spotted out and about in HK (novelty tweezers, windmill pens, lai see packets). So may I present to you some genuinely literally pretty things – contestants and their photos on Australia’s Next Top Model, Season 5.

ausntm cycle 5

Crawling the walls in frustration at having to wait a whole week for new episodes of the current season of Britain’s Next Top Model (I do weekly recaps for Teentoday), I started working my way through various cycles from around the world. Apart from America. I’d say ANTM jumped the shark long ago, but I’m not sure it was ever under/behind/away from the shark to start off with. Miss J has become such a grotesque caricature of a camp fashionista that he sets my teeth on edge, his cringeworthy flights of fancy with batshit-crazy Tyra are skin-curling (their rambles at panel are like you’ve picked up the receiver and accidentally overheard your parents having phone sex or something) whilst the last vaguely bearable part, the photo-shoots, have become so outlandish that they’re now totally ridiculous. In contrast, most other countries’ takes on the format are grounded in reality, shooting real campaigns and photos that could feasibly feature in glossy magazines, rather than adverts for the local freak show.

Season 5 of AusNTM was possibly my favourite cycle of the show to date. The judges were hilariously catty whilst actually speaking sense, the girls were uniformly pretty from the start (rather than the usual ‘I could find better hanging round my street corner’ but who apparently have ‘a strong look’ or could do ‘great editorial’ work), the challenges were realistic, the show was well-paced yet still drama-stuffed and the photos were often breathtakingly beautiful. Season 5 featured ‘bogan-ista’ Cassi van der Dungen, who punched walls in anger, swore at the end of catwalks, was continually puffing on a fag despite habitually claiming to have given up and proclaimed her desire to leave every other week whilst frustratingly taking amazing photos too = brilliant television. I was just happy that the word bogan was in common usage in Oz and not just a creation of Neighbours. [She later managed to get embroiled in a Facebook war with Charlotte Dawson and Alex Perry and make derogatory comments about the French after quitting Paris Fashion Week.]

And I haven’t even mentioned lantern-jawed Lola’s line theft during the Maybelline commercial, one girl weeping she would rather go home than have her hair cut and the insane amount of bitching that culminated in fat accusations, fag ends being dumped in someone’s bed and Cassi storming into someone’s shower and all-too-scarily threatening to rip her hair out. The season was eventually (and justifiably) won by Tahnee Atkinson, a big blue-eyed curvy beauty with an irresistible mouth. Totally cute, and yes, I had a girl-crush on her all season.

I adored the final photo-shoot, by Jez Smith; the banner photo of Tahnee was my absolute favourite of the series. I love how the background, all crashing waves and ominous clouds, is ultra-dramatic yet Tahnee, in her beautiful buy-me gown, is so serenely lushly beautiful. The greyscale effect adds a romantic, timeless quality; basically, wow. Claire and Cassi aren’t looking too shabby in theirs either – I particularly adore how vulnerable and bare Claire looks whilst Cassi, for all her flaws, really is an Oz Kate Moss.

The desert shoot, by Russell James, was just stunning (top to bottom: Tahnee, Adele, Franky, Cassi, Clare, Lola). You can always tell the good photographers from the bad when every single girl manages to look great (I now always look out for James on these shows as his work is so consistent). I love how these photos tell a story, that the setting looks cinematic in its stark baking beauty, that the colours are so vivid and that there are more fierce eyes going on here than Tyra has managed in a whole career. Most importantly, the girls’ bodies are smokin’, the styling is fantastic and the end result is an amazing strong but sexy look. The heat practically ripples off the celluloid.

It certainly beats seeing Tyra’s minions endlessly recreate the ‘Broken Down Doll’ pose whilst pretending to be a slab of meat at an abattoir, don’t you think?

Zaia, Cirque du Soleil @ The Venetian, Macau review

Given that Cirque du Soleil is just about the only internationally-renowned circus troupe that the average Joe Bloggs could name, the company must be doing something right. After seeing Zaia, Cirque du Soleil’s resident show at The Venetian hotel in Macau, I have some idea what they are doing right – but also, plenty of what they’re doing wrong too.

Scoring a unique and exclusive Cirque du Soleil show is a major coup for Macau, a city desperately trying to turn itself from ‘humdrum island offering gambling 24/7’ to ‘Las Vegas style entertainment-destination offering gambling 24/7’ with varying degrees of success. The Zaia theatre was custom-built for the show and the results are spectacular – I daresay there’s not a bad seat in the house and the performers utilise the space to within an inch of its life, with performers floating and flying overhead throughout. Coupled with an equally impressive stage that sees colourful characters and intricate sets emerging from just about every direction imaginable, plus the trademark Cirque du Soleil flamboyant costumes and make-up, it’s a visual feast. Sometimes too much of a feast; when dancers are even strutting their stuff in the sound booths, you know there’s perhaps too much going on!

The story is practically summed up in the show’s advertising leaflets – a girl’s voyage of discovery through mysterious and beautiful galaxies, peopled (coincidentally, I’m sure!) with folk that just happen to boast a wide array of astonishing circus skills. The people I went to see Zaia with complained that they didn’t see much of this so-called storyline, a plot that would barely be enough to sustain a television commercial, let alone a 90-minute stage show. It’s basically an excuse for Cirque du Soleil to wheel on various sets and performers, strung together with a clunky narrative thread that sees the girl (the eponymous Zaia) ferried across the auditorium various times in a balloon as she watches these scenes. There are occasional appearances by a polar bear (explainable only for the cute merchandise opportunities he offers) and a clown tiresomely touting a giant egg – when the thing finally cracks at the end, the sense of anticlimax was palpable. Let’s just say J K Rowling probably won’t be on the phone to Cirque for new story ideas.

The acts range in quality and, sadly, competence. I wasn’t fussed about seeing some guys juggle for far too long, even if they were using glo-in-the-dark equipment. A potentially great trapeze act was marred by the acrobats spending more time in the net than they did flying through the air; by the end, we weren’t sure who was falling off intentionally and who just wasn’t very good. A trampoline act takes ages to set up but didn’t meet expectations whilst a troupe of fire-dancers are similar to the ones in Hong Kong Disneyland’s Lion King show, except the latter perform with a lot more enthusiasm and the bonus of catchy Disney songs to accompany their flame-twirling. And you know there’s gotta be more interesting things to watch on stage than the bloke whose main skill seems to be the ability to ermm… skip really really fast.

Sometimes less is more. The best performance came right at the beginning, with a breath-taking acrobatic display by a couple hanging from a pole dangling precariously from the ceiling as their only prop. They pulled shapes I couldn’t even manage on a flat surface. There’s another graceful pair of Arctic-looking acrobats who balance on each other in an impressively fluid series of figures that move seamlessly from one pose to another, and an aerial dance between Zaia and a glitter-encrusted lad that soars above in an expression of love.

These latter acts were the only ones that came anything close to evoking an emotion in me, capturing some element of sensuality and romance coupled with wide-eyed wonder at their athletic prowess. There’s also fun audience interaction at the beginning, as performers mingle with the audience in good-humoured skits but it’s light relief that’s over far too soon. The rest of the show is too po-faced by half, a sombre display of ‘aren’t we good?’ acrobatics, scored by Enya-lite warbling in a made-up (and frankly, irritating) language.

In Asia, where your elderly next-door neighbour could bust out a cartwheel on demand and the only special occasion needed to unleash pyrotechnics is that it’s a day of the week ending in ‘y’, there must to be some major wow factor on show for Zaia to really impress. Although it has this in terms of its aesthetic values, there are only fitful displays of true jaw-dropping acrobatic excellence whilst a compelling story or emotional depth, which could have set Zaia apart from its more mechanical competitors, are not dished up in plentiful portions either.

Overall Zaia, though nowhere near as phenomenal as it believes itself to be, provides a solid night’s entertainment and a welcome diversion from Macau’s grubbier charms. However, with similar attractions opening soon, it’s not one I have any desire to sit (or snooze) my way through again. Zaia may find that her ‘voyage of discovery’ in Macau doesn’t last nearly as long as she was hoping.

UPDATE: Rach proved right! Zaia closed early in February 2012. Check out my review of Cirque du Soleil’s Michael Jackson: The Immortal World Tour here.

Zaia is on at The Venetian Hotel, Macau, every night except Wednesdays at 8pm, weekend matinees at 5pm. Tickets cost $388-788, matinees $188-588, with discount packages available.

Photos from Cirque du Soleil’s  Zaia website.

Benefit That Gal primer review

Let’s have some light bright relief from all the murders with a new beauty review, and they don’t come much lighter, brighter and better than Benefit’s That Gal primer.

You may remember, I snagged one of these in the exclusive Hong Kong 5th anniversary gift set and I confess, thus far it’s the only one I’ve actually opened yet. What can I say?! I just can’t bear to part with that pretty packaging!

Good job I managed it for That Gal though – it’s a fantastic product. If you’re unfamiliar with primers, let me introduce you to your new best friend. Especially beneficial for hot humid summers (are there any others in HK?!), primer is essentially a base that provides a smooth surface for your make-up and helps keep it in check throughout the day. The difference is immediately obvious to the touch both when you put your make-up on (it glides on so much more smoothly and evenly) and when you take it off at the end of the day (there’s still lots left to remove, even after a sweaty 8 hours in the sun!).

Some people have complained that primers clog up their pores but I’ve actually experienced the opposite effect – primers being far less heavy than the products that go on top of it, I’ve noticed my pores actually seem to be in better shape, especially if you apply it after moisturiser but before foundation (or in my case, tinted moisturiser).

benefit that gal primer

That Gal boasts all these great benefits of a primer and more, delivering on their promise of taking you ‘from dull to darling’. It feels much lighter than other primers I’ve used in the past and glides on really smoothly, easily and evenly, with a pleasant floral/fruity scent. Its shimmery pink colour (similar to Benefit’s High Beam) adds just the right amount of dewy radiance to your skin, visibly brightening your complexion and adding a healthy glow that works pretty nicely on its own, even without a further tint on top. AND it comes in a small but perfectly-formed container, featuring an ultra-convenient non-messy method of dispensing, whereby you twist the base and product comes out the top in small amounts, allowing you to sweep it on with your fingertips.

Used almost daily, one tube of That Gal lasted me about 4 months (not as long as I hoped) and the nature of the dispenser means you can’t predict when it’s on its last legs – so have a primer spare unless you wanna be left high and dry! But as ever with Benefit, one of my hero brands, it’s a happy marriage between lovely packaging and fantastic quality. That Gal is here to stay!

Benefit That Gal primer, $280 for 11ml

Hong Kong Murders – Kate Whitehead review

Before my boyfriend became my boyfriend and was doing his best to scare me into soliciting his company, he told me about a HK murderer who killed female passengers in his taxi, thus ensuring I never wanted to travel alone in one again. That murderer was the infamous ‘Jars Killer’ and ever since I learnt the gory details of that case, I’ve been intrigued about what other murders may have occurred in this fair city. Enter Hong Kong Murders by Kate Whitehead.

Asking after Hong Kong Murders in bookshops lead to a few strange looks, especially as Whitehead’s other book is called Sex After Suzie Wong, making my reading tastes look somewhat deviant. I find murder interesting, partly because my father was a retired detective and partly because so few occur in Hong Kong (one of the lowest homicide rates in the world – especially if you’re not a triad) that I wanted to know more about the few that had occurred and what went behind them.

With many of the cases from decades gone by and with few involving Westerners, English-language information on the interwebz was scant and Whitehead’s book was the only literature I came across on the subject. Alas, for a book entitled Hong Kong Murders, one was a suicide, two were kidnappings gone wrong, one occurred in Macau and at least six involved either gangs or triads, who are a different kettle of (garoupa)fish entirely. The two listed under ‘sex crimes’ were really nothing of the sort and by then, we’re left with all of about four genuinely interesting murder cases.

Whitehead, however, does her best to make them as uninteresting as possible. Her background in news journalism comes through – her writing is dry, factual and rather bland. Whilst this avoids making the book sensationalist when many of the stories could easily go that way, it manages to turn gripping cases into almost anything but. Having now finished Hong Kong Murders, I’m pretty sure I could write a better book using the information from just the book alone! That’s not to say my attempt would be much better; Whitehead frequently fails to go into enough depth. We feel little empathy for the victims as their backgrounds are not detailed, we learn little about possible motivations for the murders and we get little insight from any figures within the cases – be they investigating officers, families of victims/murderers or even the perpetrators themselves, criminal psychologists, journalists covering the events at the time, lawyers, barristers, someone, anyone! The lack of depth is really frustrating, especially as it’s clear Whitehead has actually done the research and spoken to such people, but their voices are relegated to comments so short and sparse that they’re instantly forgettable.

The blurb also promises that Whitehead will reveal the “cultural fingerprints” which ‘shed light on the psyche of Hong Kong’ but the cultural context she gives is so basic and rudimentary that practically anyone who’s lived in HK for a longer than a fortnight would be aware of such information. We are treated to amazing insights like HK people don’t like to get involved (just travel on the MTR and try to make eye contact with anyone to see how that works), that the city revolves around money, that attitudes toward sexuality are suppressed and that triads exist and have customs. Wow. Enlightening.

The triad cases in particular are bogged down with detail. Names, nicknames and even more names make them confusing and it’s clear that they belong to a completely different book. Triad violence and murders are hardly surprising but of modest concern to outsiders; as one story details, when non-triads were hurt during turf wars, the boss rang up to express concern and say ‘this shouldn’t have happened’. The message is obvious – don’t get involved and you’re unlikely to fall foul of the triads’ chopper. There are countless films, novels and non-fiction books written about the triads that I imagine have superior knowledge of their rituals, and with such crimes still relatively commonplace (one gang member was run over and hacked at outside the Shangri-La in Tsim Sha Tsui only a few years back), I found these pieces the least interesting. Just go watch the Infernal Affairs trilogy, instead.

Kudos to Whitehead for still being the only book about what is a fascinating subject, but reading it leaves so many unanswered questions that it becomes a frustrating experience. With plenty of recent high-profile cases (the “Hello Kitty Murder”, Nancy Kissel and the “Milkshake Murder”, the disappearance of Ani Ashekian… only last week, a corpse was discovered in a suitcase in Yuen Long), the time is ripe for someone to re-visit this subject matter and produce a comprehensive study. Now who’s offering?

3/5

Hong Kong Murders, Kate Whitehead (Oxford University Press, 2001), $135, Page One

P.S. I think it says much for Whitehead’s, or her editor’s, lack of depth that I’m not even sure who the evil guy on the front cover is or whether he’s even real or not!

Isola restaurant review – that’s amore!

Isola is one of those restaurants that routinely crops up in magazines, reviews and forums as one of HK’s best – whether it’s for being the best Italian, the best pizza or the best view in town. Surely it can’t be all three?

Nevertheless, anyone with eyes and a functioning brain could cast an easy vote for ‘best view’, as seen above. Huge floor-to-ceiling windows not only give Isola a wonderfully light and airy atmosphere, but also allow you to soak up an unimpinged vista of HK’s harbour, beautiful both by day or night (save for HK’s never-ending construction sites). Isola also offers terrace dining for those of you courageous enough to brave potential downpours and bloodthirsty mosquitoes in order to enjoy the view. But a great view alone is not enough to make a great restaurant so onto the food.

Firstly, if your idea of ‘best Italian in town’ constitutes hearty dishes in ‘Mama’s favourite’ style portions served to you by jovial Italian gentlemen to the tune of That’s Amore (this idealised image may have spawned directly from The Lady & The Tramp, damn you Disney!), then Isola may not be your cup of tea, or indeed glass of vino. This is modern Italian dining in a refined setting (I loved the clean chic white décor and the beautiful lace-like woodcut details), with a menu stuffed with lots of fancy names, premium ingredients and nary a bolognaise in sight.

The bread was lovely and fresh, even if no-one bothered to explain to us the different varieties. No-one bothered to explain the sludge-coloured spread either; my boyfriend suggested it might be bread in paste form (!) and from the nondescript taste, his guess is as good as any. Answers on a postcard please.

Whenever I see scallops on a menu, I am powerless to resist so we kicked things off with scallops wrapped in pancetta on white polenta with black truffle ($208). These were as delicious as scallops should be – meaty, juicy and with that trademark hint of sweetness. Pairing scallops with some sort of cured pork product is a classic combination and justifiably so – the crispy salty pancetta complemented the sweet shellfish perfectly. Elsewhere, the black truffle dressing added an earthy little kick and the wisps of crispy onion on top were a decent addition. But the polenta, which I think was the white foam on the bottom, was one texture too far. I’d say it was one taste too far as well, but I can’t really say it tasted of anything. I don’t think it added anything to the dish.

For mains, I went for the strozapretti – hand twisted pasta with mixed seafood and fresh tomatoes ($188). This, again, was absolutely delicious. On first taste, you might think the sauce was a little bland but with each mouthful, it builds into something light yet really appetising. The pasta was gorgeous as well; you can definitely tell it’s fresh and hand-made, as it practically melts in the mouth (something I didn’t think pasta could do!). I was also pleasantly surprised by the amount and variety of seafood – and thankfully, it’s miles away from the pre-packed ‘fruits de mer’ other restaurants dish up. There were prawns, shrimp meat, scallops and squid, all in plentiful supply and all sweet, fresh, meaty and delicious.

The boyfriend opted for a stone-baked pizza and c’mon, even the photo is good enough to eat, right? It’s also far too big for one person! He went for the Piccante ($168), which was topped with spicy Italian salame (not a typo, that’s how the menu spells it!), mozzarella, tomato and black olive. It was good to see (and eat!) a salame that was not razor-thin slices of cured meat you can get from any old Park n’ Shop; this stuff felt like it had actually started life as a sausage and rather than just being salty, was robust and delightfully spicy. The pizza base was the thinner, crispier kind that I love and yes, it was possibly the best pizza I’ve had in HK. Admittedly, more the gourmet variety rather than comfort food designed for noshing whilst slobbed out on the sofa in front of America’s Next Top Model.

With no room (and no money!) left for pudding, we were served some complimentary petit-fours with the bill. I don’t really think this is an Italian tradition, more a signal of Isola’s high-end dining ethos and it was nice touch, albeit one nicer in conception than in digestion. They were a bit dry and the bow-shaped ones were utterly tasteless (the whirl-shaped ones were softer, sweeter and much nicer though).

A few more tips – have the strength of character to say no to mineral water, however snooty the waiter seems! We caved in to the suggestion of still water, hence adding a mighty $75 to our bill ($68 plus 10% service charge), enough for a whole meal down the cha cha deng! Others have commented that Isola is a little tricky to find – we cut through Lane Crawford to reach it, and following signs directing you to the roof verandah should lead you in the right direction (and provide that stunning view for free, which is actually where I took my photos). And if you’re hoping to do dinner before going to the cinema in the IFC (as we did), bear in mind Isola doesn’t open for the evening until 6.30pm.

So best view? Check. Best pizza? Check. Best Italian? For me, Isola doesn’t have enough range in its menu or offer enough traditional staples to make it the best Italian in town, per se. However, the combination of view, décor and quality of food do make it one of the best restaurants in HK, if a little overpriced. Save those pennies and share that pizza, next time!

Isola Bar + Grill, Shop 3071-75, Level 3, IFC Mall, Central, Hong Kong, 2383 8765.

Great Forgotten Pop Songs: Supersister – Coffee

The days when pop acts could afford their own wind machines

All I know about early-noughties girl-band Supersister can be written on the back of a postage stamp. However, that information is so banal (their names were Tina, Louise and Eleanor and they came from Sheffield) that I’d prefer to use that postage stamp for better purposes. The Internet instead prefers to remember a Dutch progressive rock outfit called Supersister – and let’s just say that any unsuspecting fans of that group who accidentally stumble upon this Great Forgotten Pop Song may be in for a bit of a surprise.

Coffee is a frothy, spangly, camper than a Liza Minelli E! Special disco stomper. Coming just as the nineties’ pop bubble was about to burst, it’s a last hurrah for the days when having a vaguely presentable band who knew their way round a catchy chorus was enough to score you a guaranteed top twenty. Coffee is cheesier than a gameshow host’s grin and all the better for it; a big fat platform-booted choon with tongue firmly in cheek and shoe firmly on dancefloor (preferably at the local gay bar).

It basically takes a joke recycled from a thousand chick-lit novels, about liking your men like you like coffee (‘hot strong and sweet like toffee’), and turns it into a full-blown pop extravaganza. Occasionally, this would be witty (‘like caffeine, you kept me up all night’), occasionally, slightly but deliciously dirty (‘fill my cup ‘til it’s flowing down the sides’, ‘in popped my lover, pulled back the covers, cos I like my coffee with cream’) and once, even delightfully British in its references to beverages made with a kettle (‘you’re just my cup of tea’). Packing more puns than a Kathy Lette book/Jimmy Carr routine, there’s some more wordplay about boiling points, steaming and stirrings deep inside before you reach the majesty of the middle eight:

Men like my coffee really turn me on
Sometimes espresso, sometimes he’s too strong
Then there’s Costa Rican, mellow but he’s rich
But never give me instant cos baby, he’s too QUICK

Judging by this mini-opus within a pop song, I’m surprised no enterprising cod-theologist has created a self-help book based on comparing men to coffee à la Men Are From Mars.

Supersister may be forgotten but the time is right for Coffee to be rediscovered. Whether that’s by some coffee advertising hotshots, soulless chick-flick producers needing soundtrack filler or just those out to have a good time under the glitter of the discoball is irrelevant. Kettle’s on.

UK Chart Peak: 16
Key lyric: ‘Fill my cup ‘til it’s flowing down the sides!’
Get more late nineties/early noughties girlie cheesy pop : Atomic Kitten – I Want Your Love, Gina G – Ooh Aah… Just A Little Bit, Girl Thing – Last One Standing