Featuring Violet Grace Atkinson, Jordan Turner, and Charles Alexander.
Featuring Violet Grace Atkinson, Jordan Turner, and Charles Alexander.
Have you ever wondered what you can see and learn about someone from their own space? Delicately taking in the treasures inside their walls. Including those inside the walls we build with our minds.
I’ve walked through that door before. Your senses instinctually take over, and it feels good. The lungs open, the skin tightens, and the brain evaluates the newness around you.
My nose was trying to find danger, but it instead found Baies.
I imagine spaces as if they are people, infused with shades of deeper meaning. In the glimpse of the world he occupies, you might find yourself imagining you exist there too.
In a world that is warm, and alive with his presence. Breathing in his atmosphere. The neat stack of New Yorker magazines, artworks painted beyond their canvas limits, and the books: non-fiction in grand scale, poetry, and an epic tale of codependence from characters with vulnerability pressed to their hearts.
Observing. His rust coloured linen that spreads across rich oak timber. A copy of The Great Believers placed next to a white reading chair in the far corner of the room. And half a coffee table, that bears no top, which reminds me of a Duchamp readymade.
There are the stories of his neighbours’ routines too. It feels like Grace Kelly in Hitchcock’s Rear Window, watching and listening in rapt attention to hear James Stewart’s discoveries of the day’s investigation.
His space indulges more than a conversation, and more than a moment to listen to. It’ll show you what you cannot see.
I look at my own space now, and its newly painted walls. I follow the stems of roses planted in the deco mouldings on my ceiling. I watch the shadows stretch across the bare floors and glow as the light outside pushes through clouds passing above. I look forward to mapping out the lighting patterns in each room.
This is part of the world I exist in now. And this is my new space. Currently empty of furniture, yet full of things that have never been.
Words by Jordan Turner
Wearing BELANCĒ
Shot by Oscar Leal
Originally an article for BELANCĒ’s journal.
When I say the word Black, I do so with full intention.
I let it bloom on my tongue.
I project its sound into the world, fueling it with all my knowledge of its history. Its struggle, texture, and heart. Most of all, with its power.
The word is not uncomfortable. What is uncomfortable is that making its sound shows where you stand.
And where do you stand?
Do you continue to feel uncomfortable in hopes that this too shall pass?
Or do you instead choose to use that discomfort as a drive to educate yourself – to change your discomfort to confidence?
To equip its sound with your learning. To link it with the injustice of its history. To propel its movement forward for its change.
We loaded our knowledge, learnings, and love into the barrels of our voices last week. We entwined the names, faces, injustices, history, and struggle into the words in our mouths. We aimed for the sky, and simultaneously shot “BLACK LIVES MATTER,” into the air.
We chose where we stand. And the world heard us.
Dior Summer 2020 is an ode to the history of the Maison, all the while being an interplay between past, present and future.
The value of the past, looking ahead from the present.
How Soon Is Now – not to be confused with The Smiths but also not to be exclusive from – follows the idea of this season’s collection reinterpreting Dior’s modern history, a new heritage.
Set against the exposed coastal rock of Sydney’s east, the location ties in the sculptural and architectural influences that were integral to Daniel Arsham’s collaboration.
Finding the shapes in the natural rock that paid homage to the incidental beauty of natural history, and the details in Dior’s Summer 2020.
“This collection explores anticipation and the elasticity of time, simultaneously looking back and forward,” described by representatives of Dior.
“History is not immutable: it is dynamic, changing and alive. This collection is a tribute to Dior, the one that’s familiar and the one still taking form.”
There is a wellness experience nestled in Hong Kong that feels like you’re in a dream. It’s called Asaya, and it’s inside my favourite hotel in the world – Rosewood Hong Kong.
As I write this, I still picture myself there. I can hear the delicate chime that signifies the beginning of treatments. It is a nice sound, one that wraps you in serenity.
Much like everything at Rosewood Hong Kong, Asaya is unique and tastefully opulent. It’s a place where the circumstances are perfect for rejuvenating and grounding the only place you have to live: your body.
It is designed to take you on a journey of wellness through nutrient-dense food, personalised treatments with hand-crafted oils, and a state-of-the-art bathhouse.
The Asaya Kitchen was where I began my journey. The menu is created around a pescatarian diet, with a local-where-possible supply chain. Seafood is bought from a local fishing family each and every morning.
Our food sits colourful on plates, and our drinks taste refreshing and fizzy. Both are filled with natural ingredients that astound with memorable flavours.
At Asaya Wellness, the second part of the Rosewood journey begins. You are taken through comfortable questions about your treatment, which your specialist uses to personalise the experience.
Within the massage treatment, your specialist will also help you create a personalised body oil from scratch. Of which it will also be used within your massage. This is a sincere highlight. It is very special and becomes something that you can also take home with you.
Inside Asaya’s walls, peace takes over. Vines cover simple but textured walls. Chairs are purposefully placed among poised greenery. It is tranquil and quiet. There is a perfect feeling of balance here.
The bathhouse, kept traditional with both a male and female area, is where the pre-treatment zen happens. You will find an infra-red sauna with marble seats to aid deep detoxing. There is a cold pod that will spray you with peppermint mist for cooling. And a hot bath that puts the final touch on a holy trinity of relaxing wellness.
I haven’t mentioned how between these moments there are still sprinkles of little things that make Asaya what it is. The tasty elixir you receive on arrival, the treatment rooms with never-ending tea, or the change rooms that have fridges filled with fresh lemongrass water or pandan infused water.
Rosewood has a touch for the exquisite, and Asaya is just that. A one-of-a-kind destination who’s guests won’t want to leave.
Next time you are in Hong Kong, remember Rosewood and remember Asaya.
You just may find you’ll be restored.
I recently had an incredible opportunity to experience the vast terrains of Nepal with Tourism Nepal, and Rehan Shrestha. I was taken on a 10-night adventure through Kathmandu, Chitwan, and Pokhara. The colours, culture, food, kindness and spirituality of Nepal is spellbinding.
I only hope you feel the same when you visit in 2020.
Always,
Jordan
Kim Jones makes things with his movements that I, for the life of me, could never write with a pen.
A focus piece on the unintentional yet raw beauty within the way a Dior garment moves on man. Whether within the motion, or in emotion. Through a stride, through a phone call, through a longing gaze at art, or at someone.
Through the simplicity of dark city landscapes, and shadows on buildings, the element of Dior slices through your everyday views.
From the moment I landed in Hong Kong, I was in a constant state of bliss.
I had only visited Hong Kong once before, years ago when I was 19, but this voyage felt like my first time. And I wonder now whether that’s because I have a greater appreciation for anything that’s different to Western influence. This time I saw Hong Kong in all her grandeur.
I found the charm in her government housing and it’s colourful concrete recreational spaces. I looked to the sky and marvelled as the buildings cut geometric shapes amongst the clouds. I fell for the pastel colours that brightened every space, and the neon lights which glowed from shop fronts, building tops, and LED advertisements that constellated Hong Kong Island’s starry skyline at night.
I live for beauty. I believe it doesn’t always have to be materialistic. There are many experiences which are beautiful. Words, sentences, and sounds the are beautiful. Textures, feelings, and energy. When you walk past a stranger in the street and smell Soleil Blanc. Even little moments like when sunlight cascades through a window casting beautiful shadows, or when it hits glass or crystal and plays with colour in its reflection. The euphoria of beauty – however fleeting it may be – is what I live for.
Then there is Rosewood. Warm and alive with heart, opulence, and absolute beauty. I roamed the hotel and its spaces, walked through it’s Grand Ballroom, and ran my fingers along an abundance of marble – too much, which is also never enough.
I breathed in and lived Rosewood’s atmosphere. Hermes wallpaper, an original Picasso, silver trays of crystal glasses, and the books: giant coffee table masterpieces, Haruki Murakami classics, Chang’s Love in a Fallen City, and Botton’s Art of Travel among a few.
When I thought there couldn’t be anything more, I met Lotus. Who’s kindness and love for Hong Kong was as enamouring as Hong Kong itself. The Rosewood concierge team – which Lotus was a part of – showed me beauty in Hong Kong I didn’t know existed, and Lotus taught me more than I’d have ever hoped to learn within my few days.
Lotus showed us around Hong Kong. I couldn’t get enough of what I was experiencing. I watched and listened in rapt attention. I tried storing all the information I could from Lotus in little bottles to keep in my head, ready to open again whenever I wanted. I found golden nuggets from listening to her talk about Chinese Herbal medicine, and her education Master in Guangzhou. And things like the way she was taught to cook fish; “if it is fresh and killed in front of you it can be steamed, otherwise if it’s not fresh it is to be grilled.”
The most encompassing learning of them all was of Qi. It’s the belief that everything that is, should be in balance – much like that of Yin Yang. There are thousands of Chinese herbs that tend to different ailments for, or workings of, our bodies. Yet I loved that Qi can also exist in a space, or in a home. I believe it exists in Rosewood because the flow and energy was something I could feel inside and out.
The discovery of food I’ve never eaten before. I had chicken feet, deep-fried milk which became a sweet and crunchy custard, wok-fried milk that felt silky on the tongue, as well as Nai Wong Bao, a steamed custard and cheese bun which was a signature to the Moon Lok restaurant we ate at in the Xiqu Centre. I also had You Tiao, a deep-fried dough accompanied with hot soy milk that was comforting to my travelling soul.
I made a promise this year to never stop doing things I’ve never done before, and I hope to continue this in more experiences that give me the feeling of gratitude as I write this. The feeling of which I find just as enveloping as beautiful.
Thank you, MR PORTER, and Rosewood, and Lotus, for sharing your city with me, and giving me the gift of Qi.
Winter. Her approach can be heard before her arrival by shivering bones, and exhaled sighs of disappointment. Yet I can’t wait for her to get here. She enforces the change from cotton to cashmere. The need for outerwear is a necessity to stand by her.
And should you, stand by her, you just might realise her cold traditions are warmer than her sunnier siblings.
As a long time friend of Belancē, it was almost ceremonious when we joined to create a digital spread. Together, alongside Oscar Leal, we styled key Winter pieces from Belancē with my everyday wardrobe.
This is part one of two of our Winter edit.