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National Museum of SIngapore

You know how some dresses or shirt of yours would just disappear and you’re not sure if it got lost in the laundry shop or the last house you stayed in and you remember them just because you’re in the mood for browsing photos of yesteryears and you feel nostalgic about those times you wore those missing pieces, and hopeful that you find them again – so you don’t have to buy more clothes?
I went on a little nostalgia trip last night after watching UK Council’s Nowhere Boy, about John Lennon’s boyhood in Liverpool (we didn’t realize it was about John Lennon till about halfway through the film).  I love these films: artisanal, vintage-y, painful. It was Saturday night and Mike and I found a random film to watch in his laptop – I thank our friends as constant source of creative inspiration (most of the time, that’s Katherine, Connet, CJ, Jay, and Kei). Anyway, bio films like these come from stories and narratives of people. I noticed in the end of the credits, Yoko Ono was the first person thanked. I’m sure John Lennon has shared with Yoko Ono many a beautiful dream and anecdotes of his mom and aunt Mimi.

I wonder how many stories and anecdotes my memory has surrendered to Father Time and Mother Nature. I couldn’t even remember missing some of my dresses. Well, thanks for photographs, I remember.

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Quezon City
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Vanilla Cupcake Bakery, Trinoma
thai
Siam, with Korean backpackers. Ah, this dress I bought in Bangkok, I think I gave it to a small cousin.

 

 

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