It's not often that I stop and stare at something in the women's underwear department. Once a month at the most.
For instance, I was once utterly intrigued by the Aqua Bra. The science that goes into women's breast support is just mind-boggling.
And whoever invented the technology that allows you to wear a thong without feeling like your backside is getting flossed should get some sort of Nobel Prize.
And with God as my witness, I hereby pledge that I shall one day be able to discern the difference between a camisole and a chemise like an expert - while blindfolded!
But what caught my attention last week wasn't the latest cutting-edge brassiere technology. Or even the new come-hither, point-of-sale displays for the spring/summer 2005 lingerie collections that could turn a gay man straight.
It was the faces of Taufik Batisah and Sylvester Sim grinning at me from the tops of racks of Triumph BeeDees bras, briefs and other unmentionables.
I couldn't believe my eyes. What did the first Singapore Idol and runner-up possibly have to do with girls' undergarments? For some reason, Tom Jones came to mind.
I had to get a closer look.
I approached the racks of female pubescent delicates with such intense fascination that a matronly saleslady patrolling the section showed understandable concern.
Despite wearing disposable contact lenses that were way past their expiry date, I wasn't deceived by my eyes at all.
It was Taufik and Sly, Singapore idols and now Triumph BeeDees pitchmen.
Spend at least $80 worth of Triumph products including a BeeDees bra and brief set or swimwear and you may get a chance to meet your idols on Valentine's Day.
I understand that Taufik and Sly appeal to young girls who are BeeDees' target market, but is it really appropriate for two guys to be selling girls' underwear?
As part of the promotion, 200 BeeDees cami-and-shorts sets autographed by Taufik and Sly are also being auctioned off in aid of the tsunami victims.
I know it's for charity, but again, is it really appropriate for two guys to be signing their names on girls' underwear?
For once, MediaCorp can't be blamed for this because our national broadcaster isn't the one who pimp out our idols to peddle teeth whitener and panties.
Taufik and Sly are managed by Artiste Networks, a subsidiary of Singapore Idol judge Ken Lim's Hype Records.
What if Olinda Cho had won? Would she be endorsing Anlene Gold?
What if I wanted to meet Taufik and Sly? Well, I could get $80 worth of Triumph products for my mother, I suppose, but asking for her cup size would likely scar me emotionally for life. Even then, I think Beedees may be little too small for her.
The matronly saleslady was glaring at me now. I decided to leave the women's underwear department and headed for Watson's to get some contact lens solution.
Who should loom in front of me but The New Paper Booby Award winner herself, Margaret Lee.
Actually, it was just a life-size cardboard standee of Margaret Lee, touting breast enhancement pills and sporting an interesting purplish bra that may or may not be Triumph, but is at least somewhat triumphant in containing Ms Lee's bulging bosom.
She's the one who should be selling underwear.
- Published in The New Paper, 30 January 2005
Sunday, 30 January 2005
Sunday, 9 January 2005
When wireless doesn't mean radio anymore
I have a blog.
Doesn't everyone?
You mean you don't? How uncool are you?
According to Merriam-Webster, 'blog' was the word of the year last year. Not having your own blog is like not having your own Gmail account.
What? You don't have Gmail either? My God, what are you? A caveman?
No problem. I'll send you an invite. You do have an Internet account, right?
That's a relief. What's your broadband speed? 1.5 meg? Cable? Huh? You're using dial-up? You mean, you still have a land line? How retro.
Wait. You're still using wires? The horror. But you have a handphone, right? Good, take my picture.
Huh? You can't take pictures with your phone. Then what's the point of having a phone?
You mean you actually use a camera to take pictures? What a concept.
Cheeeeeese! Snap!
Let me see the picture. Where's the little LCD screen on the camera? What do you mean I have to wait for the photos to be developed?
Film? Your camera uses film? I weep for you.
Next thing you'll be telling me is you listen to CDs, ha ha ha... oh. I see. You mean you actually buy whole albums?
I have two words for you: iPod and download. No filler, all killer.
What's this? A video cassette recorder? You should donate it to a museum, Grandpa, along with your eight-track cartridges and vinyl records. Tape is so last millennium.
Is that a DVD recorder? Oh, it's just a player. What movies do you have? Please, no LDs or - heaven forbid - VCDs. You got The Lord of the Rings DVD? Cool.
Wait. This is the theatrical cut! You didn't get the special extended edition?
What the hell is wrong with you? Never mind. At least you have the wide-screen version. So you're not a complete loser.
Where's the surround sound? Oh, I see. Your 'entertainment centre' has only two speakers. It's okay, I'm just grateful that it's not mono.
Hmmm, there's something not right about your TV, apart from the microscopic 36-inch curved screen. I think it's the cathode-ray tube. No, the cathode ray tube is working fine. The problem is your TV actually has a cathode ray tube.
I have one word and three letters for you: Plasma and LCD.
And if you say 'projection TV', I'll beat you to death with my Nintendo DS.
Speaking of trilogies, did you see the trailer for Star Wars Episode III: The Revenge of the Sith? No, not in the cinema. On the web. I'll show you.
Where's your computer? Ah, that pesky cathode ray tube again. Three words: Flat panel monitor.
Ah, your mouse and keyboard - more wires. Wireless doesn't just refer to radio any more, you know. Get into the 21st century, man.
My ears! My ears! What's that awful screeching noise? The modem? Oh, yeah, I forgot. you're using dial-up.
How do you live like this? Like an animal!
Okay, I found the site. I'm downloading the Star Wars trailer for you now. Judging by your dial-up bit rate, I'd say this will take roughly 4,000 years.
Forget it, I'll Gmail you the file.
By the way, did I mention I have a blog?
- Published in The New Paper, 9 January 2005
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
TRENDING POSTS OF THE WEEK
-
Dear Ashley Garcia , Clothes maketh the man while the lack of clothes can make a woman famous. Sometimes unintentionally. I mean, y...
-
When I learnt that Vernetta Lopez ’s autobiography Memoirs Of A DJ: Life In Progress was published last week, I rushed to the nearest major...
-
Skyfall is the best James Bond movie ever? Don't believe the hype. This is from someone who has every Bond movie on DVD (even Nev...
-
I first met Darryl David at Gurmit Singh's wedding dinner in 1995. David's date was a woman named Lynette Pang , who was a stag...
-
Lately, I've been noticing the recurring use of an unfamiliar word on social media. Aisey. Posted by SMRT Ltd (Feedback) on Wedne...
-
You may have read about kids of local celebrities following their parents' footsteps into showbiz. But you probably haven't read...
-
A few days ago, my former employer, MediaCorp, announced the surprise resignation of its chief executive officer, Lucas Chow. So what ...
-
Yesterday, my teenage son returned home from McDonald’s with some McNuggets. I asked him if he got the curry sauce. He said no. “What?...
-
It started with this bombshell report about the Population White Paper released by the Government in January 2013: Singapore's populat...
-
I have a favourite T-shirt. One reason it’s my favourite is that it was given to me many years ago by a friend who has since passed away...