Here comes and extremely long overdue post that I will over ride with pictures.

So, about a month back (a whole month) I cosplayed as Psylocke for Atom Comics at The Cathay. It was a helluva lot of fun and I took so many pictures with people my head spun.


We even had Joker and Harley Quinn cosplayers, who really were just friends from the shop.

P.S, I love her corset.


Not forgetting photography students looking to submit pictures for their assignments helped take pictures! Altogether a win-win.


It started out relatively slow at first and not many people walked in at 2pm so I ran around the mall taking pictures with, well, everything.


People did ask about the scar on my leg and nothing felt cooler than telling them it was a battle scar from fighting. You know, because I had to be in character and stuff.


Then Spidey came and stole all my thunder because The Amazing Spiderman 2 just came out in cinemas. Everyone went mad when they saw him. A few even screamed LOL.

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Behold, I have no ass.


Pardon all these ‘same-face’ pictures. I’m not Nicki Minaj, I don’t have a hundred and one expression. I probably wouldn’t look good in three quarters of them.

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After awhile it started getting pretty crowded so I had to get out of the shop.

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But not before….

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And this, my friends, is the owner of Atom Comics. Very nice…


Sometimes very douche-y. But still getting the girls 😛


I haven’t forgotten to mention that this Spidey is an amazing cosplayer, have I?

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After walking afew rounds round the mall, we went back up and the shop was more crowded than before so…


We decided to play around with a white background beside the shop to entertain ourselves and…

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Attract attention.

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Besides stealing my thunder, Spidey also stole all the girls.


I’m not the only one looking at that ass, right?

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Eventually all the shop’s cosplayers arrived! So we cam-whored

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And people joined us.


Oh and Spidey did this really cool jump shot.


Then photobombed my picture with my babe, Cheryl.


Since there was a similar event going on downstairs and it was crowded there as well, we moved out into the open to take more pictures and attract more attention.

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And I got these really pretty pictures taken 😀

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Cheryl and Wonder Woman 😀


And a rather candid shot.


Then a Guardians of the Galaxy spoof.

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We got tired and sat down for some waffles and ice cream.


And it was back to cam-whoring!

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Yet another pretty picture :>


Bruce came down to tell us to go back up. I mean, look how angry he looks. Trying to pick a fight with superheros of all people.

I kid.

He was just wondering where we were.


On my way back to the store or out of the sun, I attempted to seduce Batman. I don’t think it worked tho…


So we decided to just go crazy and take photos with each other as well as the other event’s cosplayers! 😛

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Helloooooo, Ironman 😉

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My Godbrother passed by too 😀


5 hours of standing later, I finally sat down and God help me, if that doesn’t look like I’m fully content, I don’t know what it looks like.


But I still had to stand up for more pictures.

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At the end of the day, my friend Kyle, who had been helping out the entire day was down and out.



While Bruce’s mom was nice enough to buy me strawberry jam marshmellows!

There are a few adjustments I’d like to make for Psylocke, mainly for her obvious purple hair. I’m working on it! In the meantime, she wouldn’t (or shouldn’t) be making an appearance till AFA’14, when I finally get her sorted out.




Love him

I loved him.
I probably still do.

It’s kind of pathetic.

I know because when I’m tipsy
I don’t think of him.
Instead I wonder if I should be.

And I when I’m going,
Going gone.
The pain keeps me sober.

Tumblr Food

I thought it was that time of the month again (which is anytime I want it to be) to post pictures of food that I want to make and eat, but cannot have.

Without further ado, drool with me.

So many pictures, I’m not too sure what I’m craving for right now. They all look so good ):


Asia Cosplay Meet ’14

^Behold! My all time favourite picture of ACM14!


I’m a little late in posting this one, but it doesn’t matter much. Does it?

Last month, I was present at a Cosplay Meet at Marina Bay Sands for the annual ACM14, formerly known as CureFest.

On the day itself, it was really hot out but I was rather thankful for it (I guess) since my gloves were falling from my arms while my boot covers were slipping from my legs. I was really sticky and warm under my costume, so un-sexy. Why, you ask?


It’s really simple, really. I was ready to dedicate my entire year (and probably the following years to come) to Marvel and DC cosplay. Then I realized that that would mean I’d miss out on tons of really fun cosplay conventions and I didn’t want that.

But I didn’t have a costume and the convention (ACM14) was two weeks away.

So I did what any sane cosplayer would do. I borrowed a costume from a friend.

Originally, I was supposed to be Snow Miku, from the Volcaloid series but I could fit everything but the top that went round my ribcage (stupid ribcage!). It didn’t help that the material wasn’t the least stretchy.

So in came Plan B, Cloche Leythal Pastalia.

Have you heard of her? Because till the day I had to cosplay her, I had no clue and I have never been so embarrassed in my life, cosplaying a character I don’t know a thing about.

It was a good thing though, that my friend had a really strong cosplay for her. He had a sword and everything. Oh yeah. Forgot to mention that my friend cross-plays. Cool, huh?

The only problem was that on the day itself (because he swore that I could fit it), the chest area was too big for me. Talk about a reverse bitch slap from life.

Either way, we ended up safety pinning at least two inches of fabric together so that the top of the dress didn’t simply flop off my body. When disaster was finally (or seemingly) averted, I peered down and found the front of the chest area seriously lacking. Or should I say, I found my chest area seriously lacking. I’d never been so self conscious of my boobs in my life, if anything, I’d been proud of them. After being comforted by said friend after he had peered down my then-non-existent cleavage, I realized that it was probably because of all the safety pinning that the front part bunched up.

That being said, I proceeded to maniacally double-sided tape the costume to myself, in hopes that I wouldn’t end up giving some random photographer a really gross boob shot.

The boot covers and gloves were elastic but my body decided to just be too skinny to fit any of them properly.

I’m at that stage, you see. Not fitting anything that has the generic S-M-L sizing and ripping all my stockings.

I had to take public transportation like this. Que eye roll.


^ I managed to find a friend I made on instagram! So much for don’t talk to strangers, that’s a loophole right there.

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A few things I should learn by now, is that a lot of people may take your photos at the event but it doesn’t mean that you’ll find them online after everything! I’ve got to start bribing my friends to tag along and take photos of me soon 😦 If not I’d have to go to organized photoshoots, which are sometimes very dodgy especially if you don’t remember the guy. I haven’t tried those yet and I’m not about to.
I’ve been searching high and low, forum to forum for my pictures but it turns out that I can’t find any! Have I been cut out from the crop? ): So demoralizing!

Then again, I only went from Day 1 from 1pm – 4pm so… I’m actually just trying to make myself feel better. Lol.

Sigh. I’m very happy with what I’ve found though, but if anyone recognizes me, please comment below, okay? I’d love to update this post!

Most of my pictures were either taken from my friend’s phone or from Flickr, when the photographer gave me his name card.

Either way, I had a really great time.

Dear Photographers, 

Look out for me next time, okay? Let’s be friends~ :> 


The Curious Case of Panty Sizing

Once upon a year, Cherie’s mama decided it was time for Cherie to get new underwear because she (Cherie) haven’t been lingerie shopping in what seemed like an eternity (3 years). Much to her daughter’s dismay.

She wanted to know if there was to be any development down there, and by that she meant hip size. She was well aware of Cherie’s upward progress, though said daughter had always insisted on buying vacuum packed sports bras from Uniqlo.

Why not? They stretched to fit all, lasted forever and flattened the top out enough to discourage unwanted attention. A stretch-to-fit also stopped mothers from buying heaps of wired bras that seemed to dent and bend out of shape within the first three months.

Daughter preferred her sister’s hand-me-downs, flattered by the fact that her measurements were comparable to her relatively petite sister. She had always been a tad self conscious of her ribcage, if that was what a normal teenage girl with low self esteem should be ashamed of. Mainly, she took in second hands because it negated the hassle of changing in and out of lingerie. She didn’t like shopping for clothing much because of all the first (sometimes second) layer stripping, much less to her birthday suit.

Cherie had successfully evaded the horrifying ordeal of having her chest measured in the not-so-comfortable premises of the lingerie section of the shopping mall for years but nature had been cruel to curse her to run from two pieces of undergarments for life.

Her mother had been merciful.

‘We’ll just get boxed panties this time round.’ She said.

It wouldn’t be so bad, would it?

Like hell, actually.

So there Cherie was again, in the lingerie section; A rare sight. Normally she’d avert her eyes like a 12 year old boy going through puberty as she walked past. Actually, you shouldn’t be able to find her on this level at all.

But Cherie had been feeling rather confident that day, decked out in her favourite (of five) white tank top and short demin shorts. A box of panties? Bring it on.

She went straight to the panty section, ignoring the pieces of loose (not in boxes as she wanted) fabric on sale. Even with slashed prices, she thought those panties cost too much. Mother had bought her those before. $13 a piece, and she had accidentally ripped them with a frayed nail. Seamless, they’d called it.

Muttering to herself, she waited for mother to catch up to her as she flipped through the boxes. Solid colours or pastel? She decided that pastel would be easier to match her wardrobe.

Waving a box at her mother victoriously, she grinned, happy how this trip was over so quickly but mother tsked.

‘You need to select your size, dear.’ Her tone was clipped as if she was fighting to stop herself from cussing her daughter out for not being able to do something as simple as buying her own underwear properly.

‘Oh.’ Was all Cherie said as she said as she pulled the offensive fabric from its box and stretched it at her hips.

‘This seems to fit alright.’ She said quickly.

‘Really?’ Mother seemed mildly impressed that her daughter was aware of how to size her own underwear.

‘What size are they?’ She inquired, no doubt waiting to jump on the only opportunity to start buying her daughter lifetime supplies of lingerie and whatnot.

Cherie grimanced and flipped the box around. ‘What do you think ‘EL’ stands for?’
‘Extra large?’ Mother chimed as she looked through a nearby rack of what looked like cover-all granny panties.
Cherie stared back. The sudden realisation was appalling. No -it was mortifying. She had one been on the heavier side of the asian scale once, which had ultimately led to her dislike in shopping. She thought she was finally done with those days of sizing demoralisation when she could finally fit into her first ‘medium’ and now it has come back to haunt her in the form of extra large panties.
She hasn’t been a particularly nice person through the years, but karma had been so poetic this time round, she could have cried.

She felt her stomach drop and she peered down to check if her hip bones were still there. They were. So what the hell was going on?!

‘You don’t look like an extra large to me, though.’ Mother glanced at her behind. ‘What brand is this?’

Flipping the box to the front, both mother and daughter scrutinised the box.
‘Young Hearts’ it read ‘Suitable for ages 15-17.’

She was twenty this year. She gaped while mother resisted the urge to laugh and left momentarily to joke with the sales lady.

She honestly didn’t know what was worst. The fact that she had the hips of a 17 year old or the fact that she had no booty whatsoever.

If she was in the booty games, she would have no game whatsoever.

‘I have good news.’ Mother came back and she attempted to smile.

‘Those are on offer. We should get two boxes.’ Her smile flatten.

‘Choose another box.’ Mother urged. ‘You never buy these anyway. Might as well get more.’

She couldn’t argue with that so she stiffly flipped through the boxes, all the while with her head whispering ‘Kiddy panties’ into her ear.

Now two boxes of panties -one solid and one pastel coloured- sits on her dresser. Again, she doesn’t know what’s worst. The fact that there will be days that she would have to wear fire engine red panties with an ‘Extra Large’ tag sticking out on her bum, or that her lower half had not matured (much) the past few years.

On the plus side, she can now face out a few pairs of hideously stripped knickers (with bras to match) her mother bought her three years ago.

She was convinced thay if she had actually liked a real life boy, those knickers would have been the cause of her dormant sex life, not that she felt lingerie had anything to do with keeping a boy -it’s not like underwear is the first thing they look at Boobs are. It’s not like they can actually see it till they get to the bedroom, if they make it to the bedroom.

Either way, she now has a lifetime supply of panties, since she’d never be able to tear it -it being such durable stretchy fabric- even if she tried.

She could go a week with only solid colours and a week in pastel without doing the laundry, not to be gross or anything.
But that is that and the tri-annual panty shop is finally over. She can only hope that when she is 23, she would have progressed somehow.