The old man served us tea. He portioned the leaves, weighed them on a balance before steeping them in temperature-controlled hot water. The Nanyang tea, an oolong variety, was aromatic and smooth to the taste; to the lips, it was already cooled to a warmth.
This occurred at the reception room, where the room is outfitted with wood panels and peppered with Asian curios like ceramic vases, Chinese paintbrushes and even an old abacus. The air is subtly scented with a bespoke Scent by Six fragrance and mentally transports me to grand hotel lobbies like the ones in Bali or Bangkok.
This preparation of the welcome drink feels like a show but there's a purpose to the act—it pays homage to the Chinese settlers of yore, when rootless migrants found kinship with others from the Old Country as they bonded over tea.
The Clan Hotel is a peculiar sight. Or at least, where it’s situated at gives it that peculiarity. In the cluster of shophouses of the Telok Ayer district, the 30-storey building sticks out, obelisk-like, of Far East Square. As though as a pointed metaphor about the seemingly inevitable march of progress.
Nondescript paints the entrance of The Clan Hotel; with the staff helping with the luggage of travellers betraying the building's true nature. As the front door slides open, you're greeted with the calming smell that reminds you of tea and faint sandalwood. This scent is called "Kindred Spirit" and was specifically created by local perfumery, Scent by SIX. In fact, a lot of the hotel amenities—from the umbrellas to the tea sets to the soaps—were created with local entities and are available for purchase.
Given its proximity with its neighbouring neighbouring structures, The Clan Hotel focuses on building upwards: ceilings are high, sacred spaces are utilised to their utmost. The rooms are a blend of understated luxury and refined heritage. You'll find rich wood tones and modern furnishings; the angled constructions softened by the décor integrated by Chinese motifs.
There are three tiers of rooms—the Deluxe, Grand Premier and Premier Master. Bolstered by tech-forward amenities, my father, a man of simple needs, prefers the complimentary snacks and beer (pre-selected before arrival) as he sits by the bay window looking out into the skyline.
If you’re from out of town, take advantage of the tour activities at The Clan Hotel. Registration is required and the tour lasts for about an hour, where a guide brings you to some of the heritage sites within the area. Prefer to explore on your own, there is plenty to experience within reasonable walking distances. One can throw a rock and it would hit a local place of interest like Maxwell Food Market, the Nagore Dargah Museum or the Buddha Tooth Relic Temple.
If you’re not keen on hawker fare, The Clan Hotel has its own F&B establishment, Qin Restaurant and Bar. And if you wanna work off the meal, there’s the Sky Gym (because the gym is on the top level, duh) and the rooftop infinity pool.
It can be easy to relegate a stay at The Clan Hotel as just that: a stay but it's a cultural immersion. Heritage and family is a prevailing theme throughout The Clan Hotel. There, the past isn’t a foreign country, it’s a cocoon. It’s a familiar embrace where your many needs are met.
A sojourn at the hotel means that the Clan Keepers (the name given to the concierge staff) will tend- nay, anticipate your needs. We didn’t think that we needed an umbrella when the first drops of rain dot the pavement (a mere misting, was my recollection) but a Clan Keeper appears, ready with an umbrella.
Like any family member, concern is freely given; even when you didn’t ask for it but as the “misting” turns into a shower, graciousness sets in as your fingers grip the umbrella handle, slightly warmed by another’s touch.
The Clan Hotel is located at 10 Cross St, Singapore 048417
It’s been 10 years since The Life- Changing Magic of Tidying Up was published, and for me, that’s translated to approximately 10 years of binning, buying, selling, gifting, and acquiring on loop. I admit that Marie Kondo has had a positive impact on my more minimalist life but things didn’t happen as quickly as they appeared on Netflix.
In 2014, I was inspired by Kondo’s category-by-category approach, quickly tackling each section of my flat and feeling elated as I added to the rubbish heap. I’d never been a hoarder, prioritising experiences over things for most of my adult life; yet still I managed to fill about two large bin bags of junk. Old bills and documents, clothes I hadn’t worn in years, souvenirs that didn’t ‘spark joy’, and since this was a time we were embracing the streaming era, all my CD and DVD jewel cases (I couldn’t bear to discard the discs or sleeves just yet).
I kept up my minimalist apartment and lifestyle for a short while but a couple of years later I moved to Tokyo. When you move somewhere by yourself, you crave home comforts. I brought as many things as I could in two suitcases, and family and friends sent gifts and other trinkets. Then I began to fill my new home in a way I wouldn’t have if I were in my motherland, with random items that had little day-to-day use, like anime plush toys. Being surrounded by things made me feel less lonely in a new city, and anyone who has ever been to Don Quijote will understand just how easy it is to get carried away. A few years later when my visa expired and I left Japan, I had the mammoth task of getting rid of it all. I mostly donated furniture items to friends and other new expats, and then, I’m ashamed to say, I binned whatever nobody wanted. Next time, I vowed to be more mindful of what I brought home, just like I had after my first Marie Kondo purge.
Next, I moved to the US with my spouse, and we bought things quickly and cheaply, reasoning that when we were settled down in a permanent home, we’d buy that really nice stuff that’d last forever. You know, a Lavazza Smeg bean-to-cup machine barista-style coffee at home. In the interim, a flimsy French press would do, even if granule bits ended up in each brew. Then COVID happened and we unexpectedly moved again. Shipping costs were insane, and the poor quality items in our possession did not offset them. Luckily, I sold virtually everything on Craigslist (and yes, there were a few dodgy requests), and upon reaching our next home, we swiftly replaced them with, you guessed it, more quick and cheap items till we’d ‘settled in’ and could afford nicer things. That fancy coffee machine would have to wait, and by now I also decided that an air fryer was on the domestic bucket list. The pandemic meant we were eating at home more than ever, and those two kitchen luxuries would make life easier, and more joyous, I told myself. However, it would be another few years before I’d finally get my hands on either because we had to move, one last time.
By this point, I’d become a buying and selling pro. The last few flats were all temporary, so we made sure to purchase nothing major until we knew, for sure, this was it. I returned to my home city, London, having sold everything off in the US, and I was ready to start anew and hold on tight to the Kondo ethos again.
The overarching rule of quality over quantity ensued, and that has meant going without certain items for quite some time, rather than buying a temporary fix. The air fryer was one quality item I went without for a painfully long time (I’m not a patient person). We had a full kitchen with the capacity to make most meals, so couldn’t justify buying it ahead of say, a sofa, or a dining room table. Each time we browsed the mall, I salivated over Ninja kitchen appliances, especially a double-stack air fryer that lets you cook four layers of food at once. Back home, we made chicken and veggies in the oven, and I would moan, “this could have been so much tastier, quicker and healthier in an air fryer.” Eventually, that double-stack air fryer found its way into our kitchen, and it’s the most used item we own, alongside the coffee machine. I wished we’d got it earlier, but the wait made it feel more special, and those potatoes tasted extra good. We didn’t wait as long for the coffee machine though. The long-term savings made it obvious sense to purchase the moment we moved in: having Lavazza at home means we never really buy coffee outside because, honestly, I don’t think baristas make it quite as good as we do. These were two splurge items, and with the amount of joy sparked between them, they were worth every cent.
As for the rest of the apartment, there are lower-cost material items of joy here and there. Like candles, card games, and framed prints of Japanese contemporary art. I have a ton of books, too, but they’re all borrowed from the library rather than bought. Everything else has a solid function in our lives, and the money saved on having a more minimalist home goes towards sparking joy in experiences: such as travel, gigs and dim sum with my mum. Life is unpredictable, and I’m not sure when the place will fill out again with stuff we don’t need. I just hope that when I start to feel the stress of clutter again, I’ll be quick to recognise it and work at maintaining that Kondo zen we’re blissfully enjoying a decade on.
Look. When you travel, you often feel like taking home a little something with you when you leave. A photo, a postcard, a T-shirt that glibly says "I went to _____ and all I got was this T-shirt". But if you're stuck here, wings clipped but longing for new experiences, maybe a taste of another land would do it. Maybe coffee from far-off lands is enough to quell the wanderlust.
Cue the Signature Nomad collection: nine exclusive coffees from around the world, each capturing the essence of its origin. Inspired by the desire to explore the uncharted and connect with the world's vastness, these coffees are more than just beverages—they are doorways to exploration. Whether savoured on a fleeting holiday or during a morning ritual, each blend carries the unique aroma of an exotic destination, waiting to be discovered.
Housed in an exquisite box with vibrant hues that mirror the character of each coffee, the collection doesn't skimp on the finer details. Peep closer into the box and you'll see gold foil and intricate motif that embrace the rich aroma: a preview of what's to come. The reusable case invites coffee lovers to revisit their favourite 100 per cent Arabica Bacha blends time and time again.
From Bacha's curated selection of over 200 exceptional coffees, sourced from 35 diverse countries across the world, the Signature Nomad collection features nine distinct profiles in a cup. Indulge in the distinct flavours of Jamaica, known for its rich, slightly sweet aroma and crisp, nutty taste that delights the senses. Embark on a journey to Central and South America with El Flamingo Coffee from Mexico, an organic Jaltenango blend that offers gentle cocoa undertones. Or savour the Sāo Silvestre Coffee from Brazil, where late-season beans reveal vibrant notes of caramel, chocolate, and hazelnut. Check out the other flavours like Magdalena Coffee, Song Coffee and even Birthday Wish Coffee, which actually tastes like cake.
Bacha Signature Nomad collection is available online and at all Bacha boutiques
A year is a long time and it's even longer when you break it down like the cast of Rent ("Five hundred twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes", anyone?). Now, put that in terms and it might seem like a very wordy beginning of "Seasons of Love" but that's nothing for Nikka Whisky, who rolls out the fruit of their long labour: the Nikka Nine Decades.
Since its founding by This limited-edition release screams excellence and exclusivity. Only 4,000 bottles of the Nikka Nine Decades are crafted and are made from a blend of the whiskies of Nikka's 90-year history. From Nikka’s six storied distilleries—Yoichi, Nishinomiya, Miyagikyo, Moji, Satsumatsukasa and Scotland's Ben Nevis distillery—this is the culmination of a very comprehensive expression of Nikka's legacy.
(Although, give it another 10 years and we are willing to bet good money that Nikka willrelease a Nikka Ten Decades bottle.)
Made of over 50 whisky batches, from the oldest malt reserves from Yoichi and Miyagikyoto the newer grain whiskies from Moji and Satsumastukasa, the Nikka Nine Decades is non-chill filtered (this fully preserved the smell and texture) and bottled at 48 per cent ABV.
On the nose, you get the sweetness of raisins and apples that evolve into a slight smokiness of aged wood. At first sip, you get a hit of oak, followed by spicy cinnamon, roasted nuts, and a dark chocolate profile before that well-deserved finish of a pleasant acid.
Matching its divine content, we have an exterior that deft hands had worked on. A Nikka emblem is etched onto the decanter via “Edo-bori”; which in our research is a Tokyo (the former name of "Edo")-styled version of sandblast carving. Each bottle comes in an elegant wooden box signed by the eight Nikka master blenders—from founder Masataka Taketsuruto the present-day maestros. As you open the box, inside mirrors reflect the back of the bottle, giving it an austere presentation.
Released in July for Nikka’s 90th anniversary, there are 140 bottles of the Nine Decades in the Southeast Asia region. Retailing at SGD3,300, it's a small substantial price to pay for whisky history.
Singapore's design scene has got a major upgrade as Beyond The Vines opens the doors to its first-ever Design House in the country. Located in the latest lifestyle hotspot New Bahru, the Design House is not only the brand's largest space to date, but also a bold celebration of creativity and its local roots.
Spanning an impressive 3,800 square feet, the Design House is more than just a retail experience. It's a visual and tactile journey, featuring geometric shapes, vibrant colours, and a mix of textures that invite exploration. From brushed stainless steel and raw concrete walls to glossy tiles and mirrored surfaces, the space blends industrial elements with playful design touches, creating an atmosphere that feels both modern and fun.
Step inside and you'll be greeted by a striking showcase of Beyond The Vines' iconic Dumpling bag series. The pieces are set against a wave-like structure in the brand's signature Engineer Blue colour as a nod to the brand's design philosophy of mixing the bold with the understated.
For Beyond The Vines' littlest customers, a whimsical kids' section inspired by building blocks, invites them to explore pillars stacked with geometric shapes. For adults and children alike, an immersive tunnel adds an element of wonder, making the Design House feel like a space for discovery as much as shopping.
Adding on to the already stacked design intricacies, Beyond The Vines debuts its first-ever customisation area within the Design House. Personalise accessories with in-house-designed lettered key tags to add playful and bespoke touches to everything from the Dumpling bags to Crunch Carryall to the Poofy series.
Beyond The Vines opened its first Design House in CentralWorld Bangkok a couple of months ago that was then, its biggest store. Its first Singapore Design House only proves that the brand continues to grow and push for good design that's accessible to all.
The Beyond The Vines Design House, New Bahru is located at 46 Kim Yam Rd, New Bahru Big Block #01-07.
In the design world, Milan Design Week is a big one. The annual extravaganza is celebrated by design enthusiasts worldwide across the bustling streets of Milan, where creativity meets commerce. Last month I found myself in the middle of a curious blend of genuine innovation and shallow spectacle.
One of the most glaring trends was the pervasive use of fashion brand names to lend an air of legitimacy to the event. It seemed as though every corner boasted the presence of renowned product designer associated with high-profile fashion label, however, upon closer inspection, there seemed little intent to showcase a genuine dedication to the world of product design, and more about feeding the increasingly growing PR stunt machine.
This year’s victims were the design icons Le Corbusier (with Bottega Veneta) and Gio Ponti (with Saint Laurent), where the designs lacked depth and failed to resonate beyond their surface glamour. It felt like a commodification of design, where brand names overshadowed true creativity and innovation.
Furthermore, the proliferation of installations designed solely for Instagram-worthy moments was hard to ignore. Everywhere I turned, there were displays carefully curated to appeal to the lens of a smartphone camera rather than to engage with the essence of design. These installations were visually captivating, no doubt, but they lacked substance. They were hollow, devoid of any meaningful message or artistic merit beyond their superficial aesthetics. It was disheartening to witness the prioritisation of fleeting moments of social media validation over genuine artistic expression.
Such is the pull of Milan Design Week, the streets of the city were packed as ever with people eager to experience its spectacle. Yet, amid the crowds (and endless queues) I couldn’t shake the feeling of emptiness that pervaded many of the exhibitions. People queued for hours just to catch a glimpse of something that promised to be visually appealing, only to find themselves confronted with installations that offered little beyond their initial allure. It was a stark reminder of the superficial nature of our modern obsession with image and spectacle.
There were, however, pockets of genuine brilliance that shone through. Design Space AlUla, for instance, stood out as a beacon of authenticity amid the chaos. Drawing nearly 20,000 visitors, they were treated to a curated collection of design creations and prototypes, alongside immersive installations dedicated to raw materials. It was a celebration of craftsmanship and creativity, offering a refreshing departure from the glitz and glamour that often defines Milan Design Week.
Similarly, Hermès delivered a masterful showcase that placed materials at the heart of the exhibition and discourse. Its presentation was a testament to the timeless beauty of craftsmanship and the enduring power of materiality in design, reminding us of the importance of substance over style.
My tastes aside, Milan Design Week has become a microcosm of the contemporary design landscape, where superficiality often masquerades as innovation and spectacle reigns supreme. While there is no denying the visual splendour of the event, it is imperative that we look beyond the surface and seek out moments of genuine creativity and authenticity. It is in these moments that the true essence of design resides, here’s hoping we can continue to strive to prioritise substance over style and authenticity over spectacle.
Originally published on Esquire ME
COMO Shambhala Singapore is located in quite an odd corner of Orchard Road. It’s housed within COMO Orchard, with the only notable landmarks adjacent to it being Paragon Shopping Centre and Al-Falah Mosque. But the rather secluded location (if you could call being along one of Singapore’s busiest boulevards that) is perfect for a wellness oasis. It’s relatively quiet and tucked away from the crowds while still having all the perks of being in the heart of the city.
Plenty has been done to ensure that the atmosphere of COMO Shambhala Singapore is kept serene. Its interiors are calming with a colour choice meant to reflect healing waters, and a studied use of space—even the locker rooms are incredibly spacious and not to mention luxurious—encourages a sense of vast openness.
It’s no surprise that the wellness brand is such an expert in crafting wellness spaces and experiences. “Over nearly three decades, COMO Shambhala has consistently evolved while staying true to its roots in quality instruction, especially in yoga and Pilates,” says William Daniels who is the director, wellness programmes of COMO Shambhala Singapore. “This deep history allows COMO Shambhala to authentically expand its wellness offerings. The latest evolution is our flagship at COMO Orchard, which marks its first anniversary this year. Here, we’ve introduced a suite of recovery services, ranging from physiotherapy to cutting-edge health technologies like Hyperbaric Oxygen Therapy and Contrast Therapy, designed to enhance the experience for both locals and visitors to Singapore.”
The 9,000-square-feet space is seemingly separated into different segments. Exit the elevator upon reaching the fourth level of COMO Orchard and you’ll find the yoga and Pilates studios to your left, before being greeted with rows of massage rooms, and Contrast Therapy rooms (two private rooms that are each equipped with a Brass Monkey ice bath and a Sunlight infrared sauna) as well as an Oxygen Therapy space. On the other side of COMO Shambhala Singapore is the 1,500-square-feet gym that’s complete with weightlifting paraphernalia as well as a Red Light Therapy room. Located just outside the gym are rooms for physiotherapy in partnership with Strength Clinic Academy.
Yes, this is definitely not your usual gym membership space.
Daniels tells us that red light therapy has been specifically integrated directly into the gym space as one of the ways COMO Shambhala Singapore aims to provide science-backed treatments for its clientele. Red light therapy has been known to assist in treating joint and muscle pains as well as healing muscle injuries and reducing any soreness experienced after hitting hard at the gym. It’s already gaining traction in other parts of the world, and offering it at COMO Shambhala Singapore buffs up its holistic wellness approach. Or as Daniels puts it: “blending tradition with innovation for a truly elevated experience”.
Hyperbaric Oxygen Therapy (HBOT) is another state-of-the-art offering that’s become a popular go-to for clients. COMO Shambhala Singapore has two Airpod™ hydroxy mild hyperbaric devices in its premises—a first for Singapore. Clients can choose between the Propel or the Revive for a capsule or an upright seated experience respectively. HBOT is widely used by athletes, owing to its multitude of benefits. By increasing oxygen levels in the body, the therapy helps to boost energy and fatigue recovery as well as promoting mental clarity. HBOT is also known to improve one’s quality of sleep.
“For the busy individual seeking to maintain peak performance, reduce stress, and improve overall well-being, the integration of HBOT, along with our other advanced treatments, offers a comprehensive, science-backed approach to living well in the city. At COMO Shambhala, we aim to provide not just a break from the urban grind but a real solution to the unique challenges of modern life,” explains Daniels. And it seems to be working too.
According to Daniels, the recovery therapies—particularly HBOT and contrast therapy—have been popular since operation a year ago. But what’s been a key shift is a growing trend in booking these services in groups. “Friends, colleagues, and fitness enthusiasts are using these sessions as a way to unwind and recharge together, blending the benefits of advanced recovery with a shared experience,” he shares. It reflects the uptick in popularity of more social physical-centric clubs that have sprouted since the Covid-19 pandemic. Ordinarily solitary physical activities such as cycling and running have evolved to become a way for people with common goals and interests to partake together. We’ve always been a social species and that has extended into how we’re keeping our wellness in check too.
Even with the slate of wellness technologies on offer, there’s still that irreplaceable human element that’s vital in ensuring clients receive the best and most holistic wellness experience at COMO Shambhala Singapore. Personal fitness training is a key component here. The establishment’s coaches are the driving force behind its approach, serving both as movement experts as well as recovery advisors. They’re trained to be cognisant of a client’s needs and are skilled in educating them about the potentially intimidating intricacies of the full suite of recovery services on offer. And as one would expect, a lot of educating is necessary for clients who aren’t familiar with alternative therapies aside from the usual post-workout physiotherapy.
“What sets us apart is the holistic approach our coaches take. They’re not just there for a workout session; they help clients stay accountable to their goals by adapting training programs to suit individual needs, be it injury recovery, improving fitness levels, or boosting confidence in the gym. This attention to detail ensures that clients receive ongoing support, and the impact of COMO Shambhala’s service is felt not only during the sessions but throughout their entire wellness journey,” expresses Daniels.
If things like time, work and other personal commitments aren’t factors, you’d easily be able to spend an entire day at COMO Shambhala Singapore just focusing on your wellbeing. While the idea is quite a tempting one, the reality is that no one really has that much time in a day and it’s probably not advisable to do so anyway. Treat COMO Shambhala Singapore like a wellness escape in the city—even for just an hour—and you’d potentially find the rigours of modern life a bit more manageable. Because wellness is the new wealth you ought to continuously invest in.
In media, often our decisions are driven in some part by commercial concerns. That’s especially true today, with the advertising dollars that are a publisher’s lifeblood increasingly migrating away from magazines, newspapers and websites and instead, being allocated to search engines, social media and influencers.
This very subject was at the core of a talk I hosted at the Asia-Pacific edition of the South by Southwest (SXSW) conference, on a panel featuring the creative director of Esquire Australia, Grant Pearce, and social media influencer Kristine Fernandez, whose following across Instagram and TikTok is almost a million strong. In mulling over the challenges of serving our audiences while also generating enough revenue to remain afloat, we discussed how important it is to collaborate with brand partners we truly believe in and can authentically, unreservedly recommend.
As I write this, the day after that panel conversation, I’m sitting on the balcony of my hotel room at the Park Hyatt Sydney—which I authentically, unreservedly recommend, dear reader—looking across at one of the most easily identifiable views in the world: the Sydney Opera House and harbour. It’s a vista that has not only been repeatedly immortalised on film but has also been rendered by some of Australia’s leading visual artists—huge paintings of the harbour by noted Aussie daubers Brett Whiteley and Ken Done adorn the walls of the Sydney International Convention Centre where SXSW APAC is held, in fact.
Most of Australia’s biggest-selling artists of all time are men, like Ken and Brett. The country’s most successful female contemporary artist, meanwhile, is a lady by the name of Del Kathryn Barton—the only woman to feature on the list of top ten Australian artists by auction price.
I got in touch with Barton after admiring her work at the ART SG fair at MBS earlier this year, and have been saving the resulting interview for this art-themed issue of Esquire Singapore. An issue like this is a rare pleasure for publishing professionals, as it gives us the chance to think less about commercial matters and instead, simply shine a spotlight on people we believe are deserving. People like Barton, whose artworks are astonishingly detailed objects of phantasmagorical beauty.
While personally, I also have a lot of love for hastily splashed abstract art—à la Helen Frankenthaler, Robert Motherwell, Franz Kline, Joan Mitchell et al—something I deeply appreciate about Barton’s paintings is how meticulous, how carefully crafted they are. The amount of work that goes into her art is extraordinary. She says this modus operandi is most probably a product of her upbringing.
“I grew up in an environment where I wasn’t exposed to the art world at all. My mother was a teacher and a gardener,” Barton explains. “But one of the things that imprinted me a lot about her was she did a lot of very painstaking, delicate quilt-making and stitching. And so, from a young age, I grew up just really valuing a surface where a very passionate, committed, labour-intensive experience has taken place.”
Applying this approach to her own practice initially held Barton back professionally. “Early on in my career, my work was criticised for being overtly decorative or illustrative,” she says. “Thankfully, those are not dirty words in the art world anymore.” To Barton, “The level of commitment and a surface that very authentically reflects the level of passion and commitment (to the work) is something that I’m very excited about.”
Del Kathryn Barto
For her fans’ sake, Barton says she’d be delighted to speed things up to better meet the demand for her paintings, which far outstrips supply. “Many times I’ve thought quite pragmatically about, should (my works) take months, take years? Is there any way I could circumvent that? But if anything, it’s the opposite. The work just gets more and more labour intensive—and I just love pushing that further and further.”
Often setting out to trick the eye with intricate renderings that only reveal their complexity upon close inspection, Barton says, “I love surfaces that from a distance almost look minimal, but then you lean in and you realise that there are hundreds of thousands of marks and it sort of takes on this micro-macro capacity. It’s like there’s a vibrational quality, the surfaces are kind of humming with energy.”
Although Barton is intrigued by the potential for technology and artificial intelligence to expand artists’ capabilities and horizons, there’s nothing like encountering a real-life painting, she reckons—at least as far as her own art is concerned. “I really think my work is much better in the flesh,” Barton says. “You have to stand there and it affects you, it goes way beyond the cognitive experience, it affects your energy, your emotional life. It’s a very real exchange and encounter in that way.”
Barton has twice won one of the world’s most prestigious art awards, the Archibald Prize for portraiture, first with a painting of her family, and subsequently, with another depicting the actor Hugo Weaving. I ask her whether, like many chefs I speak with, she doesn’t set out to win plaudits (or Michelin stars, as the case may be) but is more concerned with creating the best work possible.
Del Kathryn Barto
“Having a career as an artist is such a long game,” she replies. “I think I was very fortunate, at the age that I was when I first won the Archibald, I’d already put in 10 years of the most anxious self-doubt, and juggling four part-time jobs then spending every other moment in the studio… My only goal in life is, or was at that stage, to live a life where I could make art every day. So I literally am living my dream now. And I’m always reminding myself of that.”
The advice Barton gives young artists is to make the work its own reward—and if they can live without their art, then maybe they should consider doing so. “Your passion for your work is the only thing that will ultimately sustain you,” she says, “and sustain the capacity for you to have a career in the art world because it is so brutal.”
Barton has succeeded despite, she confesses, lacking the self-promotional, glad-handing skills that have played a big part in many prosperous artists’ ascent. “My friend, I am the worst at that,” she says. “I have this ridiculous fear that when people meet me, they’ll like my work less. I’m the worst at building relationships with collectors. I really am. I’m an introvert. Socially awkward, I get social anxiety.” Instead, she says, “I just try to love people through my work.”
Her ultimate goal, Barton says, is “creating images that are beautiful and hopefully get people to think about caring for the earth, and also finding a way to coexist on this incredible planet, that’s not toxic. That’s not aggressive. That’s not destructive. I really want to offer beauty to the world.” What a blessing to be able to make a living doing precisely that.
Back for its fifth edition, Singapore's Mental Health Film Festival (MHFFS) will occur this week (7-10 November). This year's festival is all about breaking down barriers around mental health. With six international feature films following the theme "Building Bridges to Mental Well-being," and a whole lineup of meaningful discussions, this event promises more than just movies—it's about kickstarting conversations that matter.
Immerse yourself in the screenings—drawn from real-life stories that reflect the highs, lows, and everything in between of mental health struggles. Think dementia, navigating family dynamics and even caregiver burnout—the things that we rarely discuss but should. This year's picks included heartfelt tales like Tan Pei Lin's LADY!, a moving story of love and resilience in the face of young-onset dementia. As well as Kim Hopkins' A Bunch of Amateurs, a warm look at companionship in today's digital age. If you're into animation, Deep Sea is a stunning 3D-animated journey exploring themes like childhood abandonment and depression.
Another film to look out for is All the Long Nights and how the disorders mentioned in it might be easily seen as trivial but are more serious than one assumes. Misa Fujisawa (Mone Kamishiraishi) experiences extreme PMS while her new colleague, Takatoshi Yamazoe (Hokuto Matsumura) suffers from panic disorder. Watch as the two become aware of each other's struggles and the support that they provide.
But the films are only part of the experience. After each screening, there are talks that feature mental health professionals and people with lived experiences. These panels are all geared toward sparking open and honest discussions. Chairperson of MHFFS, Dr Jade Kua put it best, "MHFFS films and conversations allow people to see themselves, feel understood and find hope. Our goal is to encourage honest dialogue, foster understanding, and build a more compassionate community that embraces mental well-being for all.”
If you're wondering what the future of mental health storytelling looks like, the Short Film Youth Competition (SFYC) might be the ticket. Open to filmmakers under 35, SFYC aims to inspire young creators to tackle mental health through the medium of film. It's a competition, sure, but it's also a platform for young voices to showcase their work. The top 22 finalists' films will be screened during the festival, followed by Q&A sessions that will shed insights into their films.
Tickets are available now available.
It’s that time of year again: graduation season—when the air is thick with anticipation and the promise of new beginnings. New university graduates step into the next phase of their lives, and the “so...now what?” feeling tingles. A realisation that the complexities of life after college starts to settle. Are there a lot of decisions to make? Absolutely. Is it exciting? Without a doubt. Is it scary? It can certainly be daunting. It is the threshold of a new chapter, filled with endless possibilities and uncharted territories.
I remember leaning into that feeling myself when I first graduated. One’s transition into the working world marks, for many, as the start of independent financial decision-making and one’s financial journey. Prior to this, financial decisions were likely made for us, but when the first paycheck comes in and decisions about why you should consider getting a credit card, the specifics of shifting from your parents’ health insurance, and how to best utilise your savings come into play. Suddenly, (for the responsible adult, that is), with the concept of financial self-empowerment, comes considerations about setting up retirement savings to managing debt and starting your investment journey.
Fast-forward to today, I’ve been in a cradle-to-grave, womb-to-tomb sort of business for the past nine years as a financial planner and business owner. One of the ancillary- but-meaningful parts of my career is the unique vantage point from having different client conversations across different demographics. That has given me a valuable perspective on wealth, success and the financial habits that shape our lives. I get to be next to my clients in my age group; to witness and grow alongside their dreams and aspirations as I build my own. At the same time, I work with successful business owners and professionals in their 40s and 50s—a glimpse of what sustained success looks like and the pathways they took to achieve it. These interactions have not only broadened my understanding of financial planning but have also enriched my ability to empathise with diverse life experiences and ambitions. I don’t want to be preachy—and I do think financial advice and planning need to be catered to the individual, because humans are complex—all of us bringing our own set of lived experiences, opinions, idiosyncrasies into our worldview on money. But I thought I would share three consolidated musings, which come from some of the commonly asked questions and my lived experiences, on building wealth from scratch.
Money is a lot about psychology and the behaviour attached to it. It can be daunting, but you don’t need a CFP to build wealth. In fact, having a degree in finance or financial planning is moot if knowledge isn’t applied. Start with being very real with who you are, where you are at, what your goals are and how you’re going to take action towards those goals. It could be about having that conversation about what money means to you, and if the pursuit of wealth is actually important. You could be a fashion writer or an industrial engineer with zero interest in anything finances-related. Or you could be an investment banker with a CFA who is well-versed in corporate finance but with no time to look at your own. As long you have a goal and decide to retire by 55, even if financial planning isn’t the most top of mind, you’ll want to have that real talk about what you need to be doing constantly to reach your goals. The earlier we realise that we are responsible for ourselves, and that we are ultimately in a primary capitalist (and meritocratic, thankfully) society, then the sooner and better off we will be.
You don’t strictly need a financial planner because if you’re meticulous and naturally good with these sort of things, you should be fine. But sometimes, having another—a good financial planner who understands you as a person, who asks the right questions—to be a sounding board for ideas and provide qualified advice really can help. You are not worse off from not having engaged one. But if you can be better off, why not?
Most people who do nothing wrong will do nothing. Financial planning can be a somewhat un-fun conversation but it is a foundational core tenet of our life if we want to see good long-run quality-of- life outcomes.
We don’t choose the hand we are dealt in life, and some people have more opportunities than others. But it’s not a competition and we owe it to ourselves to decide how we want to play the game.
I often tell younger clients that a large determinant of where wealth will come from (assuming it wasn’t inherited), is the jobs they take and/or the things they build. The early years after graduation, our career choices, entrepreneurial endeavours, and even the skills we develop can have a profound impact on our financial future, much more so than whatever investment opportunities we take. Sure, interest compounds over time, but a good financial plan should also look at career progression. Making it a point to change jobs with a 25 per cent pay increment every four years, with an employee share options programme or starting a side hustle that creates an additional stream of income and a potential multiplier effect has a much larger effect on one’s financial future than trying to trade a SGD5,000 portfolio of savings to achieve 10 per cent per year.
We should still set a budget and put funds aside for these things, but the focus in the earlier years should be placing ourselves in positions where we are in the right rooms, to build the right skills and to capitalise on the opportunities with trusted individuals. From a risk planning perspective, it makes complete sense to protect one’s ability to earn their income adequately through the use of insurance. Leverage doesn’t just come from banks; it also comes with the influence and positive long- run positions we put ourselves in.
There is a Chinese proverb that states that “wealth does not pass three generations”. Another version of this saying, of Scottish origin, is “shirtsleeves to shirtsleeves in three generations.” These proverbs reflect the idea that wealth gained by one generation can be lost by the third generation. In essence, the first generation works hard to create wealth (from “shirtsleeves” or manual labour) and the second generation benefits from and manages this wealth. But by the third generation, that wealth is often squandered and they end up back in “shirtsleeves” or having to work hard all over again.
Increasingly, though, one effective solution to this problem is the use of life insurance and trust structures as tools for generational wealth transfer. Families can create a legacy that multiplies generational wealth in cost- effective ways. Tools and structures which were once accessible by the ultra-wealthy, are also now increasingly democratised. Education and financial awareness are rising, along with the availability of qualified professional advice. And trust structures can be utilised to manage and protect family assets, providing clear guidelines on how the wealth should be handled and distributed. By combining life insurance with well-designed trust structures, families can mitigate the risks of the third generation falling back into financial hardship, thus breaking the cycle and ensuring that the wealth created endures.
Yet, why doesn’t everyone for whom it makes sense to do this, do this? From my professional standpoint, such issues can now be easily solved, but again, most people who do nothing wrong, do nothing, and that is what’s probably wrong. The perceived idea that these things are complex (they can be), coupled with the technicalities of it all possibly bore most people into inaction; again characteristic of the human condition.
In the end, one’s journey in building wealth is but one part of it. Preserving wealth also requires a commitment to proactive planning and a willingness to utilise available resources. One can build from scratch but keeping it and building from strength to strength is where true financial wisdom and discipline come into play.
Bright, bright, BRIGHT green, that should be the colour of your matcha powder. Think electric green, almost neon. And yeah I know, it sounds counterintuitive; usually the ultra-bright colours signal lower quality and food colouring. But for matcha, it's the opposite: the brighter, the better. If it's a dull, army green, or even a bit yellowish, that's when you gotta get a refund.
It might seem tedious, but spotting good matcha spot isn't that hard once you know what to look for. Before you start showing off your newfound matcha knowledge, let me introduce you to one of the OG spots, where their matcha are bright—like, BRIGHT green.
Since its debut in Paris in 2014, Café Kitsuné has carved a niche as one of the forerunners of the matcha movement. Known for its distinct blend of Japanese and French influences, Café Kitsuné sources its matcha directly from Kagoshima, Japan (that's when you know it's gonna be reaaal good.) Their matcha powder boasts a smooth, creamy texture, pronounced umami, and a delicate balance of flavours with reduced bitterness.
This month, Café Kitsuné marks its 10th anniversary with a sale of their matcha powder at The Capitol. So now you can flaunt not only your matcha knowledge but the real deal itself.
Running until 1 November, Café Kitsuné will showcase its rich heritage and expertise in matcha with a limited-time menu crafted just for the occasion. Expect inventive desserts like Matcha Strawberry Shortcake, Matcha Canelé, and Matcha Chocolate Loaf Cake. Obviously, there are exclusive matcha drinks like the Matcha Strawberry Latte, Matcha Jasmine Coconut, Matcha Coconut Cloud, and the refreshing Bergamot and Jasmine Matcha Fizz.
Located at 13 Stamford Road, #01-11, Singapore 178905, open daily from 10am to 10pm.
Matcha powder (30g) is priced at SGD59 and is also available online.
Ah, Paris... The city of love, art and culture. The perfect place for a summer vacay. And at the heart of it, Cheval Blanc Paris has opened its terraces for visitors to take in the iconic sights of Paris. The hotel itself is a veritable museum in its own right. Located within proximity to the Louvre and the Marais, Cheval Blanc Paris embodies the Art Deco essence, showcasing the French art de vivre that is inspired by a bold, contemporary spirit all through its 26 rooms and 46 suites, along with splendid living areas, restaurants and wellness facilities.
The Cheval Blanc Paris terraces are open to the public. Perched on the seventh level, each terrace is a window to the magic of three culinary masters: Chef Arnaud Donckele; Chef William Béquin and Pastry Chef Maxime Frédéric. Under the purview of these talented chefs, each terrace promises an unforgettable gastronomic adventure against the stunning backdrop of Paris’ romantic cityscape.
Le Jardin de Cheval Blanc Paris is a verdant haven that is the picture of summer. Vibrant and adorned with red and white furniture and chic yellow accents, the terrace celebrates Parisian epicureanism. Delight in Chef William Béquin’s curated menu that features dishes like cherry tomato tart with pineapple tomato and basil sorbet. A strawberry ice cream sundae—crafted by Pastry Chef Frédéric—is a fitting topper to a meal. This idyllic retreat is wrapped in the heady aromatic scent of herbs and scarlet flowers.
Offering unobstructed views of the Seine, this contemporary brasserie invites you to embrace Parisian life through the palate. With flavours imagined by Chef William Béquin, featured dishes like green bean tart with stracciatella and smoked velvet with black olive. Treat yourself to lobster, red mullet, monkfish and sea bass in a saffron-infused bourride. End your culinary journey with a rhubarb vacherin, a modern twist on iconic French gastronomy.
With a name like Langosteria, you do come in with certain expectations. But the restaurant manages to surprise you with its convergence of Italian and French cultures on a plate. The restaurant opens on to a terrace that looks over the surrounding sun dappled rooftops, providing a painterly vantage. Reflecting Italian vibrancy and summery influences, the menu’s offerings include Sicilian gambero rosso, red tuna carpaccio with eggplant, and tagliatelle with royal (of course) langoustines. Desserts get the same sort of magic, again, created by Pastry Chef Frédéric, the Langosteria’s signature tiramisu, sans crustaceans, bien sûr.
Cheval Blanc’s restaurant terraces are now open. For more info, click here.
