You breathe love into my heart and soul making me whole
And the more you do
The more I see I can't live without you

Andrew Gn

Probably the most prolific Singaporean designer, Gn graduated from the renowned Saint Martins School of Art and Design in London and the Domus Academy in Milan before joining Emanuel Ungaro in 1992. He launched his namesake label in 1996, establishing a fan base among the Parisian high society and A-list celebrities such as Jessica de Rothschild and Sarah Jessica Parker for his luxurious fabrics and exquisite embellishments. Gn was awarded the President’s Design Award in 2007 and is stocked in all the major continents, with his atelier based in the Le Marais district in Paris.

Ashley Isham

The other Singaporean high fashion designer to hit big time in the international circuit, Isham established his namesake label in London in 2000, and is a show fixture at London Fashion Week. The label is known for its sharp, contemporary tailoring and high-octane glamour, and is a hit among film, TV and music stars as well as British royalty.

Aijek

Self-taught designer Danelle Woo creates easy-breezy, ultra-feminine pieces in sustainable fabrics. Aijek is stocked at multi-label boutiques in China, Hong Kong, Malaysia, Indonesia, Latin America, the Middle East and the United States.

Depression

The neo-Gothic ready-to-wear label’s stark, minimalist designs are stocked in Hong Kong, Belgium, Japan and the U.S., and counts celebrities like Adam Lambert and The Black-Eyed Peas as fans.

Sabrina Goh

The feted Singaporean designer stocks her easy-to-wear pieces from her namesake label at multi-label boutiques in the United States, the Fred Segal store in Japan and a London-based online store Not Just A Label.

Max Tan

The avant-garde label features experimental silhouettes and a contemporary artistic flair, and is stocked in Europe, the Middle East, San Francisco and Taiwan.

Benjamin Barker

This stylish menswear brand founded by designer Nelson Yap in 2009 now has two stores in Melbourne and offers custom tailoring as well. It also offers shipping to Australia and New Zealand via its website BenjaminBarker.co. .

In Good Company

The well-loved minimalist label with unusual silhouettes fronted by designers Sven Tan and Kane Tan is stocked in Hong Kong at Kapok, at various departmental stores in Jakarta, Indonesia, including Sogo, Seibu and Galleries Lafayette Jakarta and in New York’s Saks Fifth Avenue.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-sydney | www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-brisbane

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all your demons have finally died
my love..

exhaust’d thru months of
stress’d quandaries. have
clear’d the worst. and
i ripped through older
pages, stealing the words
that sound’d best. the
only ones
able to fluidly
patch fragments. brake.
been a long couple day(s);
singular, i guess. and
the sassy black chick,
she doesn’t give a ****.
never did. and friend is
asking why, asking
questions of the sky.
  - what if what’s complicated
     is so because we never
     let it be easy?
infectious thoughts of
what to do to complicate, or
of how we might proliferate.
and ringing:
  - why not just be easy?
and ringing:
  - you’re just going to have to
    stop having fun for a while.
and ringing:
  - i mean, not quit, but
    ease up. don’t spend
    your money.
knowing is ninety-percent
of the problem with
stubbornness. and remem-
bering when first told
to get on with it –
to let go –
the other ten-percent.
and being one day closer –
to be one minute closer –
brings restlessness. and
i lay my head to rest, if
only to pass time as lids
squeeze light from eyes.
and thoughts, peaceful a
moment prior, begin to
rage. to thrash and stomp.
to draw from dead qualms
and questions. and past
turbulences become reali-
gn’d.      yet,
most were left behind or
under the Pinelawn.
something missing,
memories of how her
**** were like tiger claws.
brake.       get on with it.
and the vessels of my eye
throb in ticks. forcing
metronome. and i count the
seconds, the seconds
on minutes
on hours
on eternity. and if
i were here – if
i were awake – when
the sun came ‘round,
then perhaps the metro-
nomes tick would cease. or,
let it go, get on with the
passing of time.
getting on with it, to
force the dawn sun
to rise of me.

what's this st-st-st-stuttering? i know you revealed an acute consonant combination, but you didn't have to ensure it doesn't exist - i am familiar with the way humanity doesn't need theological crutches, and wants to go at it alone, but sometimes an individual example of a human begs the question of God - look at than Blue Indian language, it has plenty of hatches that are nothing but dead-end corridors (h t'chess) - ghee - for example, the h is inserted for aesthetic reasons, not phonetic reasons - alpha bravo, alpha bravo, come in alpha bravo! romeo, over! and the theory of stuttering goes along the way: consonants primarily, definite sounds, like the articles - they hide him in the most obvious places, for aesthetic purposes he's there, but when spoke of, completely silenced.

*******...

one - why say tsar and not say gnome?
in England you don't say 'sar like you might
say 'nome - or 'nosis (gnosis) - nose-dive on this -
γνῶσις - again, why would the Greeks add
diacritical marks and the English haven't?
too busy up a monkey's *** crack for all i know -
doggy dodging the debate -
leave dialectics like a derelict house and
soon enough everyone becomes so
opinionated that it's hard to discuss any
opinion, given the defences of the person
ideally suited for politics -
Channel Four daytime t.v.? scarier than
any horror movie - *come dine with me;
but still, while st-st-stutter with the other
form of grapheme ts and not with the grapheme
gn? it's perfectly suited given the
original graphemes æ and œ -
you say agnostic perfectly, but when it comes
to gnosis people cut the g off and never bother
with the rule they apply to ts when a wet drum kit
snare if hit for hot when uttering the word
tsar.

two - the incident of a 91-year old woman in
Berlin, in a gallery, oldie had the chuckles
doing this one -
did graffiti on a £67,000 work of art with a biro,
reading-work-piece,
a 1977 work by Arthur Köpcke of the Fluxus
movement - prompted by the "artist's" instructions:
insert words - granny did goo goo good -
that's how i see Hebrew -
a perfect twin image - Hebrew, apart from the
two Adams (aleph and ayin) is a bit like a crossword,
vowels are only inserted for a Bar Mitzvah of
practising Kabbalah - perfect'oh comparison -
and you begin to wonder, why didn't the Hebrew
have a pronounced E if they had an A?
after all the sacred name has Adam and Eve to
imprison - which is why it'd explain
Islamic niqab - hidden from sight.

apologies for a telegram style of writing -
i have to make dinner, take pictures of flowers,
water the garden, trim my beard, wash myself
and then ******* to see a ballet of Don Quixote -
you get the picture.

alnitak is the leftmost star in Orion's Belt.
it is located approximately 817 light years away.
that's 10,799,034,810,538,287 miles.

one day you asked me how much i loved you and i told you i loved you from here to alnitak, but you became puzzled and brushed me off.
as an astronomy major i live for the stars.
i love them.
each one is unique.
as a side effect, i often times find myself comparing people to stars, writing their bodies as constellations, their tongues as asteroid belts.
but with you it was different. you weren't just a constellation to me.

GN-z11 is the oldest and most distant known galaxy in the observable universe.
even with all that competition, you still somehow, made yourself to be the largest thing i could fathom. your arms wrapped around me like overgrown tree branches reaching up to hold the night sky in place. i felt warm in your grasp.
if a meteor decided to fall from the sky it was okay, because as long as i could keep you, the entire world could burn for all i care.

Stars run on hydrogen fuel. When stars fuse hydrogen into helium, they burn, releasing heat and light. when they run out of helium, they begin to expand and explode, causing them to become a red giant.

when you stopped loving me, i ran out of helium. i began to explode.
my inner thoughts and feelings of regret blasted around inside me at light speeds, looking for a source of fuel. but you were my fuel and you were nowhere to be found.
i turned into a red giant.
after you left,
all my eyes ever saw was red.
i saw red in the happy couples on the subway.
in the lady who brings muffins to lecture on Thursday nights.
even in my mother when she asked how my life was going.

after becoming a red nova, a star cools to a white dwarf, and a black. when a large star dies, it has so much mass that after the helium is used up, it still has enough carbon to fuse it into heavy elements like iron. When the core turns to iron, it no longer burns. The star’s gravity causes it to collapse, and then it explodes into a supernova. What’s left of the core can form a neutron star or a black hole.

and that's what you left me.
we were a bright glimmering star that illuminated the eyes of people around the globe. but we're nothing now.
nothing can compare to the way you made me light up.
now I'm a black hole.
I'm hungry for you.
i hunger for you.
i crave you.

The grasp of space expands, the seer
Holds my own pleasures, my frigid frights
Despite galaxies tasted, I still feel near
To Alpha Centauri, and your blue world's sight
But hide me away, beneath milky waves
For my shame could span a system twice
In Sirius' twilight, I'll spend my days
Away from my dearest darling

My dear Virgo, if I could tell you my pain
Of speaking in tongues that shake death’s hand
Then I would still be holding you in the rain
But now, rain is small, and the void is grand
From the rings of Jupiter, is this apology much?
Because now, I am drifting farther away
Distracted by the likes of explosions and such
I must keep my sins lost in the skybay

These ventures, I will scream of, to the cherry beyond
Of saccharine sights and flavourful dreams!
For surely, no soul knows what's going on
In the falls of Carinae, it’s as beautiful as it seems
Here, it is bliss to wither away
This is not light and I do not sing
I am silent amidst waning supernovae
Vague senses of sinister, near Andromeda's ring

A beautiful lie it is, the Pillars of Creation
For they have crumbled millennia ago
My beautiful sunset, unseen causation
Dead for a time, before you have grown
Hell will break loose in your sky
And that world will know what beauty brings
I have been left to the twilight's *****
Now, I tire of looking at dead things

Dead things before, dead things again
Galaxies will collide anew
I tire of the cosmos repeating in vain
Along the tides of space, shall I come back to you?
I send you this postcard from GN-z11 
How have you been? How have you aged?
Have you missed me, as I dangled in havens
Or did time miss me only for a day?

It does not matter, I'm coming home!
I will shed my wings in due delight!
I believe I will adjust to your blue dome
The universe, finally away from sight
No more will I be a valiant flea
A simple life, I'd love with you
A yellow hut, rested by the sea
Skipping with my sunshine, on a bayou

Dearest Virgo, we will look at the stars
We will see dead things, and they'll twinkle in your eyes
I'll speak of light, talk of galaxies afar
And we can laugh about how we are mice
I’ll look up and test the waters
And it will remain a lustrous view
Ominous as it is, in a perennial saunter
I would not miss such bliss, for then, I'd miss you

Across the galaxy, I'll make my way back
You will be waiting, as I find beaten tracks
I'll ask, "could the universe love me as much as you do?"
You'll say, "alien, my love is only of truth."