Tiffany’s at Pacific Place lunchtime is filled with Putonghua-speakers, Cantonese-speakers and a lone Singlish? Manglish? speaker, all waiting for their little-blue-box purchases so I have to hang around for a bit waiting to be served.
My purchase is erm, “small” by comparison, I’m ordering a silver photo frame with engraving (allow a week – I didn’t, the first time – and btw Links of London has similar for a fraction of the price but then you get black grosgrain, not white satin on duck-egg blue which yes can make Flakiest Argument Known To Man And Shopping but when you gift to a special friend, especially one whose wedding you were supposed to fly to San Francisco to attend, you had better make it white-and-duck-egg-blue. And ask for an extra box if she might possibly want one to put hairclips in or whatever. Well done, Marketing. You might burn in hell.)
Out of the blue a mummy friend texts me with pictures of a vintage-y Levi’s Rockstar tee – autographed by Dave Navarro no less, and it triggers warm and fuzzy feelings. Rockstar Tee! Signed by Real Live (Other) Rockstar!! How cool is that?
So cool we framed it this morning! I met W while volunteering together and became What’s App friends around her work schedule, often while waiting for our boys to fall asleep at night. She’s one of a select group of mummies whose messages prompt Rockstar to interrupt his messing with my phone to announce knowledgeably, mildly imperiously, “Mum. Your friend’s message. I know her son; your friend is —’s Mum.” (Maybe it’s a mummy thing, I just find it funny when he does that.)
This one I call Kings’ contribution to the Aussie economy. Because he cleared out the stock of the first souvenir store we visited in Sydney, buying these things for buddies/ male colleagues (the golfers among em might keep golf ball rests in the pouches). Must be some guy joke I don’t get. I will not be re-typing the word in the bottom right of the first picture. Supposedly these things are lucky but I did not find the Roo they belonged to very lucky…
Then this box I’m sending to my mum. It is virtually an empty recycled Ralph Lauren box, and then I had to get a jumbo-sized padded envelope to put it in. What’s in the box? Large prints of Rockstar’s pics. I have to do the box, not just the envelope and some cardboard, because my mum gets seriously bothered by dented corners and less-than-razor-sharp edges when the pics arrive.
Like, I suspect, many mums, mine also loves those little freebie skincare samples and cosmetic pouches and shopping bags and what-nots you redeem with points. Except I don’t actually use that much where I can accumulate enough points.
So then I find myself occasionally buying more things to get the points to redeem the freebies, and then feeling very happy with myself when I manage to buy stuff that can pass for freebie samples, and collect redemption points. (So, you guys who might approach my mum when she is walking her rescue mutt and overweight border collie: Don’t. Tell. Her. I’m buying “freebies”.) I guess somewhere in that painful narration of Things No One Cares About you would have got that the actual gift wasn’t the stuff. There would be a picture in the post office too, except I no longer mail these – because the last package got taxed several hundred ringgit upon arrival.
Selamat Menyambut Hari Merdeka to all the Malaysians. Today, 11 years ago, Kings and I met in Bar None, Singapore for the first time.
AND Congrats, Tim!!! on making MSN’s Top 10 Young Malaysians. For the two people reading my blog who might not know who Tim is, Rockstar knows him as Daddy’s Friend Who Kicks The Ball For JD Diligently, Has Bunked In My Cars-decked-out Bedroom, Then Together With (his GF) Audrey Thoughtfully Presented Me With Cars MagnaDoodle. Which I’m Still Doodling On Each Morning. Also The Guy With The Courage To Pick Me Up When We’ve Just Met And I’m Having A Moment.
Well, this is a post about thoughtful gifts… Oh, and I’m pretty sure Kings gave him (and of course Ming) roo pouches. Special ones. Saw Kings shopping for special ones <cough>