The "Reality" of Teaching

There happens to be a lot of downtime in the closing hours of my workday. The classes have been taught, the children shuffle away to their dark little corners to torture small animals or go off to continue learning at some form of after-school program. But it's only 2pm and my "day" ends at 4:30pm...what to do? I may be in Korea, far, far away from my home in California--but best believe I still get my TV fix thanks to the various joyfully illegal Internet sites offering up today's best and worst (aka BEST) shows the networks and cable channels have to offer. Shows I have been following recently are: Glee, Hung, Gossip Girl, Project Runway, Models of the Runway, America's Next Top Model, and Top Chef. Admittedly, my guilty favorites tend to be the terrible reality shows that relentlessly attempt to spice things up with every passing season (or "cycle"), but are usually just the same ridiculous fare...that I happen to drool over at my desk. Today in particular I feasted on the likes of Top Chef season 6, and America's Next Top Model cycle 13. Top Chef never ceases to make me hungry, but more importantly I wholeheartedly believe it makes me a better cook. I don't necessarily learn any technique from it, as anyone who watches knows they don't focus on that. What it does is inspire me to try new things and mix and match flavors that maybe I wouldn't have had the moxie to toss together to begin with. It's also my kind of sports show; almost like watching skilled athletes flexing their muscles. Ultimately, it comes down to the fact that it's a show about food. Did you see my blog title? I was sort of bummed this week to see my delicious French morsel, Mattin, get the boot. He deserved it, no doubt, but I will miss his playful smirk and gorgeous teeth. Sigh. Au Revoir, hermosura de mi vida.

Speaking of beautiful people, ANTM cycle 13 is full of them in a whole new pint-sized package. Not one single model is over 5'7 this time around. I suppose it was imperative that Tyra force us to become interested again. We all know that the show never produces any super models, though it does produce working models (who can be caught from time to time on the runways, from New York to Boise). It's not the show itself, however, that I'd like to speak about. If anyone else caught last nights show, you may have noticed Tyra acting...well, crazy. Tyra? Crazy? How? Yes, Tyra has managed to out-crazy even herself. For some reason that will forever evade me, Tyra chooses to make a fool of herself on as many episodes as possible with every cycle that passes. I'm convinced she is done trying to trump Oprah and has moved onto trumping herself. On this fine episode, she appears as a sheepish, meek woman partaking in a photo shoot with a Napoleonic photographer. When she can't takes no mo', she strips down to reveal a cape and becomes (wait for it...wait for it...)...SUPER SMIZE!!! Yes! She can crush the runway with a single stomp, and phase away her opponent's with a single smize! Just in case you're unsure, to "smize" is to smile with ones eyes. Oh Tyra. Tyra, Tyra, Tyra. I'd love to join your writing team. I too can be a yes man! My first contribution: Tyra Banks is NARCISILLA! She needs to shut it down. Shut it down!

"Why ain't you smizin', gurr?"

When the snow falls, I fly...

Get me the heck out of Korea when winter hits. It gets colder than a meat locker, without the wonderful smell of carcass. This year is a bit different than others, in regards to vacation time, thanks to our good friend swine flu. A well known fact in Korea to most foreign teachers is that we're not to leave the country unless we complete a 7-day quarantine upon return to Korea. Now, this may seem odd or inconvenient--and it is. However, it does serve a purpose and in a way lengthens our vacation by 7-days, which is fantastic. We are, after all, public servants and spend most of our time around children. Because of this we must take precautions to try and ensure not only our own health but the health of the more susceptible children. Though some of us may understand the reasoning it is a bit of a wrench in the proverbial gears. In the good old days we were able to travel during the Chuseok (Thanksgiving) holiday. This year, we may not because there's not enough time for quarantine. So we must be patient and travel to far off lands in the winter. I'm cheating a bit and Dong Wook and I have planned a trip to Busan for the first weekend of October. We'll be attending Asia's foremost film festival, the Pusan International Film Festival. We didn't manage to snag a fancy-schmancy hotel as we wanted, but we did manage lodging and train tickets at a modest price. This will tide us over (or so is our hope) until good ol' winter rolls around (how I dread you bitter cold). Keeping things bright and happy, I was welcomed with the news that my vacation runs from Christmas day to January 31st. Quite a sizeable vacation...but where to go? The choices are seemingly endless. I mean, I can afford for my boyfriend and I to go virtually anywhere. The only trouble is we don't want to spend our entire nest egg on yet another trip. Also, if we choose a less expensive area of the world (ie. South-East Asia) we can presumably stay longer and still save money. On the other hand, who wants to spend 2-weeks fearing tranny pick-pocketing and tummy-typhoon when we could spend a week getting our nails filed and culture polished in Europe? So, I may be jumping the gun a bit, but I'm a planner--what can I say? So far the list reads as such: Oahu, Osaka, Cambodia, Paris, Barcelona, Malaysia, and the Philippines. What to do, what to do? Sun and beaches on the cheap, or pretty cold in some of the most beautiful cities on earth? Grrr and harumph...

Glamour and the Stench of the Seoul Sewage System Part 1

It's been ages (over a month) since I last posted. There have been countless experiences that I've wanted to cover here, but alas I'm subject to my own procrastination and thus be my downfall as a writer. In any case, this past week's experiences are definitely something to write home about. Anyone who knows me or my current situation would know that I'm currently residing in the Republic of Korea. As such, my career bares little resemblance to that which I'd dedicated myself to for the past several years: fashion. In my day to day life, it's impossible for me to renounce my love of the art of fashion and all that accompanies self-beautification (minus self-mutilation, like cosmetic surgery). Though I've left the building, and "hung up my hat" so to speak--solely because I am currently teaching a sea of Hangul-crunching urchins does not equal the demise of my life in fashion.

This brings me to my present state of being. As if hearkened by the beacons of my heyday, fashion has found me once again...and as usual, I've gladly acquiesced. Back in August, upon my return to Korea, I met a young Canadian woman named Denise while out with friends. I mentioned her in my previous post. We really took to one another, and it was mentioned that my past work had been in fashion and on-set beauty departments. Denise is a photographer and works with another ex-pat, an American Blasian (Korea and African American) named Michael. Michael has created a website representing Korean street fashion for foreigners entitled Feet Man Seoul (www.feetmanseoul.com). The site covers mainstream fashion, local social events, street fashion--among other topics, such as music and Korean pop culture. One night, while painting the town blood red, Denise drunkenly mentioned to me that she was working on a fashion magazine to be distributed circa Seoul fashion week. Of course she mentioned this knowing that I'd invite myself onto the project...which I did. I immediately asked, pleaded, begged to have a hand in on the baby and she said she'd she what her project partner thought. Only a few days passed and I was invited to meet Michael, offering my services as stylist on the project.

We met at Doota!, the enormous shopping complex at the Dongdaemun ("East Gate") area of Seoul. It was evening, and incredibly windy. I was running late, as usual, and I found them outside trying to fend off the tempestuous annoyance. For some reason we didn't immediately go inside and escape the frigid temperature. I think that was probably because once you enter one of these large shopping complexes talking becomes troublesome and conducting a deep conversation, or a meet and greet as this was, would prove nearly impossible. So we remained outside and chatted about the project. I asked questions, and though many responses were vague at best, I did see true passion and potential in their eyes and ideas. These two elements are strong legs to stand on.

In true form, I began to shoot off my mouth and offer my ideas on a silver platter. Though some of my supposed "gems" were promptly denied any place on this project, I understood my place quickly and relegated myself to it. Now that we'd satisfied ourselves with banter, we entered the building and began to scour the many levels for the number one item on our list: lingerie. Yes, this was to be a lingerie shoot. The concept of the magazine is basically this: a "look-book" of sorts, with glimpses of Seoul fashion week's shows, street fashion, a few articles, and a photo-story--which was our main focus on this meeting. This photo story followed an evening in the life of a scorned young woman, who leaves the throws of a hunky, young gentleman to prowl the streets clad only in what she's left in...her underwear. Edgy. Sexy. A new concept in Korean culture: a woman claiming her sexual prowess as power. I liked the idea and quickly began to create a story in my head, with fully flushed-out characters with legs to kill.

With this in mind, we stopped at a few lingerie kiosks and found nothing to our taste. In a place this big with so many trends and an incredible penchant for style turn-over, it becomes an overbearing game of hit or miss. Michael said he knew of a more risque vendor on the basement level, so we ventured down into the deep to look for what we hoped wouldn't be death by ruffles, or bludgeoned by padding (not to mention choking on glitter). We found the dark little corner he spoke of after scouring through the labyrinthine alleys of the make-shift shops. There we found undi's a plenty, many not to our liking, in fact...I'm shocked they'd be to any one's liking--except maybe a Russian hooker (but then again, we get a lot of those here). Our focus color was purple, the "it" color of the season, or brown--to play off the models golden tan. We found a few options we felt forced to like, and then finally came upon a few that we actually did envision on the 6 foot plus body of our model: Henna. Thankfully, Michael is nearly fluent in Korean so he managed to work-it with the saleswoman and finally we had our first piece; a surprisingly elegant, yet sexy, brown-sheen bra and french-cut panty set. This was the beginning of our journey into public nudity.

When we'd finished, we met up with one of Michael's longtime friends whom he'd not seen in nearly a decade. It was a quick and passionless reunion, but still it thwarted us off to dinner where we shared Uzbek food and beer. The food was good enough. Loads of meat. Similar to middle eastern food as well as Russian, but a bit bland for my palette. Nonetheless, the conversation was dynamic and I was sure this was a marriage of minds made in heaven. With enough time, patience, and arguing we'd make quite the team.