I just got back from a trip to Jakarta and i don’t want to be one of those people who endlessly talk about their vacations to other people who secretly want to punch them in the face for it but i have to say, it was liit. I went there with two other friends to attend the Djakarta Warehouse Project and eventhough, i still don’t know how Hardwell, DJ Snake, Zedd or Martin Garrix look like, i can at least say i danced to the point of dehydration to their beats. I also got tipsy and fell backwards on my ass while getting frisked by security but that’s another story.
Style-wise, i want to say i surprised myself just a little bit this trip. I brought two boots with me, both taking up at least two kgs in my suitcase, none of which i ended up wearing because: a) My knee-high lace-ups made me look like a hooker and b) the biker booties made me look…like a biker. Idek, don’t you just hate it when your outfits look way better in your head than it does in real life? And then you wear it and you look like a pumpkin.
In the end, i ended up wearing my white high-top sneakers 95% of entire trip, which was unexpected tbh because i’m really not a sneakers kinda gal, much less when i’m in Jakarta. But then again it made sense because there was no way in hell i was going to wear either of the boots into a mall. Like, if i already look like a hooker wearing the boots during a rave, can you just imagine me clomping around the mall in them?
Funny story: Because all the shoes that i’d brought with me were so chunky and because i was so tired of wearing sneakers and we had no time to go shopping during the first few days, i ended up borrowing a pair of matte black jelly flats from my friend at one point. And eventhough i knew in the back of my mind that they were hideous AF, i somehow managed to convince myself, in the name of convenience and extreme hunger, that i looked alright enough to leave the hotel.
It wasn’t until i was walking around the mall surrounded by all the glamorous socialites that i suddenly caught my reflection in a display window and realized how freaking hideous they were. I apologize in advance to the owner of the shoes who was so kind to lend them to me (I love you, S!), but they legit looked like gardening shoes. Like, does this hoe look like i’m into gardening?! DO I LOOK LIKE A GARDENING HOE TO YOU. And to my friends who allowed me to walk beside them the entire time and even assured me that i looked cute, i don’t know if i should hug them or strangle them for being so nice/cruel.
I also ended up wearing bomber jackets a lot during the trip. I had a really bad cold within the first three days of our trip (probably something to do with repeatedly swimming in an ice-cold pool in the wee drunken hours of the morning). Plus, there’s also something about Indonesia that makes you feel not-stupid about wearing thick jackets out in the open, no matter if it’s leather or wool or whatever. It probably has to do with the locals’ strong, adamant belief of getting “masuk angin” (like, my boyfriend is Chindonesian and ohho, you do not want to argue with him about being “masuk angin”. It’s kind of how my dad’s answer to everything is to “drink more water” and “sleep early”. I could be all,
“Demitri, my shoulder really hurts”.
“I think you’re masuk angin”.
“Demsie, i have a headache”.
“Yeah, pasti masuk angin tu”.
“Demsie, i fell down just now”.
“Oh maybe lutut kamu masuk angin”.
“Demsie, i finished all my money”.
“Iya, pasti kamu tidur dibawah kipas kelmarin. Udah masuk angin tu”.
“EH SEMUA PUN MASUK ANGIN KAH??”
“Ya sudah, jangan banyak ngomong lagi, nanti tambah masuk angin”.)
So that’s how i ended up wearing bomber jackets a lot during the trip. Usually, to be completely honest, i steer clear away from structured jackets whenever possible, which is ironic, because i’m such a fan of cardigans. But cardigans are like the kind of comfortable aunties at a family gathering who give you sweets and share their desserts with you and who wink at you conspiratorially when telling dirty anecdotes… while structured jackets are more like the first cousin who’s just fully transitioned into puberty and refuses to acknowledge your presence eventhough you’ve known them since they were barely out of their mom’s vajayjays.
Cardigans make you feel good about yourself and make your arms feel loved and free while structured jackets, like those cousins, only make you feel cool when you’re holding a cigarette and bobbing your head to Foster The People or whatever mainstream non-mainstream band is hot right now with fifteen year olds, and are basically good for nothing else.
Pro-tip for busty, curvy girls who can’t find bomber jackets their size in the women’s seciton: Go to the men’s! They look exactly the same but feel 100% more comfortable. And, you can even move your arms! *gasp* Thanks for the suggestion, M!
I even wore a few crop tops this trip. I mean, i’m no stranger to “accidental” crop tops which is where you wear normal t-shirts, have a big lunch and then realize that your shirt suddenly lacks enough material to cover your food baby. But actual intentional crop tops, i usually try to stay away from. Until I realized that i don’t have to show my belly button to rock the midriff trend. I can just show a tiny sliver of skin from that area and still feel like a sexy Spice Girl. Anyway, belly buttons are icky (what do you even do with them? Clean them? Put an alcohol-soaked cotton swab to them? Play with them? Stuff them? Just eugh yuck).
Thanks for reading! And eventhough i am a total G R I N C H when it comes to festivities, merry Christmas and have a happy new year in advance ❤