Kenneth Goh discovers that the first step to a brighter, better you is by working on your quirks—and leaving the steamer behind
Kenneth Goh discovers that the first step to a brighter, better you is by working on your quirks—and leaving the steamer behind
You know it’s the New Year when your colleagues start talking about joining gyms, kick-starting their health regime and changing their diets. But every time I promise myself to get fit and healthy again, I always fall by the wayside—citing a packed work and travel schedule, or just plain laziness. This year, I realised that I have to start by cleaning out my life first by getting rid of superfluous things before I start adding more. This includes the quirks and restrictions I impose on myself—some legitimate because of health reasons and others, well, they are just plain idiosyncrasies that I hope will be erased over time. But, they only seem to get worse and more intense with age. Let’s start with the simplest:
THE COLOUR BROWN
I used to be a huge fan of this earth tone, wearing every shade from the softest pine wood to the darkest oak bark. I mixed the colour tone with moss green and looked as if I stepped out of the forest as one of Robin Hood’s merry men. Now, I simply abhor the colour. As I am quite tan, the colours just meld into my body, making me look larger. Plus, I just feel ancient in it. Many brands embraced brown last year, and I was really struggling not to buy into the colour when everyone from Prada to Louis Vuitton pulled out every shade from Mother Nature and threw them hook, line and sinker on the runways.
SOLUTION: Switch to orange, which is really a happier version of brown, or tasteful prints in a zesty shade of tangerine. A camel trench by Burberry is always a great wardrobe addition, and its evergreen appeal means it’s almost as if you aren’t wearing anything but hundreds of years of British tradition and beautiful brass buttons.
THE ONCE-OVER
I’ve been told a million times that I automatically give a once-over when anyone comes into my line of vision. It’s an irritating habit that I have not been able to kick. Interns apparently tremble when they approach me, and even my bosses ask me if they are wearing something wrong when I fixate on their shoes or belt. I really can’t help it. Decades of editing pictures and selecting what shade of colour would work on a model or what print works best with Asian skin tones has just programmed me to want everyone to look their best with my at-times ill-timed advice. I am quick to compliment if I see something fabulous on someone, but I have also pulled stray hairs off the faces/blouses/jackets of strangers and even blended foundation marks from jawlines when it’s not blended. But I really just want to help!
SOLUTION: Maintain eye contact at all times because I love fashion and can’t help myself from making mental notes about their heels/sneakers/brooch/outfit. Find something, anything that’s nice on their outfit/hair/face and compliment them. Stop there. Do not go past the neck; because there’s certainly no $200 to collect.
THE STRIVE FOR PERFECTION
I steam my clothes religiously. I can’t step outside the house with even the slightest crumple on my t-shirt. I fixate over perfect pleats on trousers and would die if I had to walk around with horizontal crease marks across my knee from wire hangers. I can’t even wear a gold bangle with a silver one unless it’s a stack of four and there are two of each. I wish I could be more relaxed and embrace that whole Margiela or Vetements devil-may-care attitude—walking around with disheveled hair and a mismatched sweater and scarf—but I just can’t. Even my hair is perfectly trimmed every month so it sits dead straight across my forehead. My shirt sleeves have to be ruched just so (I have elastic sleeve bands to hold them up) and while I stop short of ironing my jeans, I do insist they are dry cleaned and steamed before wearing.
SOLUTION: Relax, Ken, relax! I have to remember I am not parading on a catwalk so not everything has to be so perfect. The irony is that runway shows are no longer as precisely styled as they were. Anything too studied is accused of being too ’80s; the relaxed vibe is the way to go. Cleanliness is really no longer next to godliness. I would like to embrace the Japanese concept of wabi-sabi, accepting the idea of imperfection and impermanence. This year, I will try my best to address all these concerns in the hope of being a better person: More relaxed, less judgmental, and open to wearing some shade of brown. But there is one pet peeve I cannot give up, which is the sight of people wearing hats in restaurants while they eat, as that’s just bad manners. I will stop short of telling them off but if you catch me staring at their straw brim or knitted beanie at dinner, you know my death stare is simply meant to make them better people.
