Sartori-ally Savvy: Interview with Zegna's Alessandro Sartori: A Hong Kong Exclusive

Alessandro Sartori has made a mark under the Zegna label with incredible alacrity and proficiency. In less than a decade of joining the company, he has been planted as the creative head of the Z Zegna line. For P.Ramakrishnan, he lists the do’s and don’ts for the man who wants to be in GQ. Why not take note from someone who’s been there, done that?!


As members of the press and photographers teem at the Conrad, awaiting the man of the moment, Alessandro Sartori, subject of much interest as Zegna presents its latest line in Hong Kong, few note the large sign with the label’s emblematic logo hanging at the far end of the VIP room. With the usual clutch of company representatives and marketing heads. Sartori swiftly walks in, greeting all ebulliently.

Before he sits for the recorders, he, and only he, notices that the sign is slightly off kilter. Instead of snapping his fingers at his coterie of assistants to fix the aberration, he rushes forward himself, sets it right, and sits down, apologising profusely for the delay. Therein lies what separates him from a phalanx of others, that quest for perfection, that strive to make things just so, noting the devil in the details. This talent has served him well for within a short period of arrival at Zegna, he has escalated from the lofty title ‘Assistant to the Product Manager for Zegna Sartorial line', as his CV states, to the exalted position of Creative Director, Z Zegna, as his embossed calling card reads.

Z Zegna is the, if you will, “younger line” of the high-end menswear from Ermenegildo Zegna and just last year, Sartori was the recipient of the “Best International designer of the year” awarded by GQ Spain.

Over espressos, the conversation meanders about, he flinches when the overused and trite expression ‘metrosexual’ creeps into the dialogue. “I think the phrase metrosexual is over and neandersexual is in,” he says, and then corrects himself. “Well, its not in right now either. Is there a word for it… no. I think men are looking for something new, but they are always a little concerned about looking good, stylish. Easy elegance is what they really want. So now in fashion houses, there’s a focus on research done on fabrics, and quality and treatment. Mixing unusual elements together – metallic with linen, so a material looks soft and strong.”

Returning to the earlier phrase, he simply says, “I don’t like the term metrosexual at all. What does it really say anyway?”

What indeed!

In the age of men’s manicures and facials – and there’s nothing wrong with that - it’s the easy labeling and coinage of trivial expressions that Sartori can live without. So who’s metro… well, really well presented?

“You know, I think in today’s time it’s Jude Law that’s really stylish. Even after the scandals this year (referring to the infamous tryst with the nanny that’s been tabloid fodder!), I think the news of the affair makes him more human and not so fake and puritanical!”

“Among women, Nicole Kidman – which may seem like a cliché answer, but she really is so naturally stylish. And then there’s Monica Bellucci who is, of course, so very beautiful, her face is superb, super beautiful. Like a modern Sophia Loren,” he says. Stretching back into the lounge he continues. “But in film, there was no one like Marcello Mastroianni. Everyone refers to La Dolce Vita, not only because the movie was great, but the style in it. For me, the 1950s was a great period for fashion, not the ‘60s because by then I think it was too much. The decade before was when it was still refined.”

Under the aegis of Zegna – including all the lines under that umbrella – none of it be labeled as ‘too much’, the subtle sophistication is synonymous with the brand. Unlike the flash of his contemporaries where perhaps flamboyance has eclipsed elegance, the brand’s adherence to classic good looks is legendary.

So what’s a fashion ‘no no’ at the moment? “White socks with anything and everything! It should only be used in sports. Really. Worse than that is white ankle socks! In my wardrobe, the staples at the moment are blazers and jackets. I have many. I need something on top of my t-shirt or shirt, so I always wear a jacket. Jacket pockets are very smart now, man bags are a little over so a good jacket that will hold all your things is great; your phone, your wallet, your keys. Also, I think all men should invest in good leather items like belts and shoes. Something that will last.”

Three male models saunter in, as blinding flashes form the crop of photographers erupts. From where we’re seated, we’re at eye level with the shoes strutting along the makeshift stage. As I’m seated next to the designer, Sartori leans over and says, “You know the most expensive fashion item that I own is a pair of boots. I have this pair of horse hair boots, black ones. I don’t wear them anymore because they’re over-used, but I wore them nearly all the time for three years. I remember at the time I bought them, they cost me a quarter of my entire paycheck!”

Is it a complete fashion faux pas to wear sneakers? “No, I like trainers and sneakers, coloured ones, green, red, blue… but only during the holidays or my time off. Actually, even in my casual time, I wear simple leather shoes. Things you can slip on and off easily.”

It goes without saying that his favourite shoe designs are from the Zegna line. Which a laugh, he states, “Zegna does a great line of course, but even when I was an independent fashion consultant, in Hong Kong, many years ago, in the early ‘90s, I liked Zegna for its quality. Actually, my favourite shoe designer at the moment is a woman’s designer, Manolo Blahnik.”

We go through a volley of questions and while most upper tiers of international companies give well-rehearsed answers, Sartori is blissfully straightforward and real. For example;

Cuffs or button-hole?
“Cuffs, I think it’s a very simple thing to do to really smarten up your entire look.”

Most cherished fashion item?
“I have a leather blazer with a super soft touch. I’m not just saying this to advertise the Zegna line but I really do own a lot of it. When I design, of course I am making something that I would want to wear.”

High-end or high-street?
“A mixture of both, I think you can buy a really nice, well made pant but wear a very inexpensive t-shirt with it. With your own style, you can personalise more. You know when you see those people, with a head–to-toe look, out of a magazine, they are copying exactly what’s on a mannequin or in a magazine page. There's nothing unique about that – you must own your own look.”

Fashion disaster?
“The ‘80s! When you look back at the big hair and te huge shoulder pads! I really think that its is a trend that will never come back. At least I hope it won’t!”

Who would design your Oscar suit?
“When Adrian Brody won the Oscar, he was wearing Zegna. Sean Penn, Al Pacino, they’ve all worn Zegna when they won! So of course, I would too!”

Of course.



FLIGHT OF FANCY

Photography: William Furniss
Graphics and illustration: Hyvis Tong
Art Direction & Styling: Ann Tsang
Wardrobe & Accessories: Z Zegna and Ermenegildo Zegna
Model; Nacho C at Model Genesis





Earlier feature on Zegna's musical muse; Easy on the Ears

In and out of context

Craig Yu has taken the immediacy of photography and merged it with the artistry of old paintings to produce images that pose questions about our perception of the world. He tells P.Ramakrishnan how the meaning of anything can be changed by the way it is portrayed.



THEY LOOK LIKE blurred photographs, as if the cameraman forgot to focus before hitting click. The pictures are askew and their colours are inverted, appearing in strange hues of red, blue and black, almost monochromatic. I guess he forgot the flash as well.

But the 13 pieces on display at the Goethe Institut are all oil paintings on canvas. Craig Yu Yun-feng manipulates images from television and the internet to make a statement about context.

The 24-year-old artist photographs or downloads images, which, in the normal course of events, have been edited by media professionals before being shown. He then crops each picture and painstakingly recreates them on canvas. Some of his work is on display and for sale at the Arts Centre in Wan Chai.

"The general concept of my work is based around media influence, in and out of context - what happens to the meaning of everything when taken from its original context and put into a new one," says Yu.

The paintings have been sanded and thinned down to such a degree that there isn't any of the grainy oil-painting texture or clearly visible brush strokes to provide the aesthetic reassurance that what you see - such as the image of a soldier pointing a gun, ready to shoot - is just a picture.

"The images are from various documentaries, some of them taken from the Discovery channel, local stations in Hong Kong or the media in the US," says Yu. "I manipulate them in a way to make it more ambiguous. The imagery becomes more abstract when it gets on the canvas.

"In the painting Fire And Forget, the image was taken from a documentary on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. I was interested in the way they focused a lot more on military technology and how to win their battles rather than focusing on the actual conflict and what happens to the people. The people didn't matter."

The same can be said of the artist when people become blurs, gossamer light visions, who almost completely disappear into the background. "You don't see people in the picture because that's not really my focus in general but more on how people perceive the image of people or things. That's why a lot of the time you can't make out exactly what they are."

His use of primary colours is very particular. "Red is to show infra-red, heat-seeking or heat-reflecting images," he explains. "Blue is used to show night vision, dark imagery. I'm not in a blue mood or anything like that, but want to show technology in an aesthetic way. The environment that you see and its various distortions is my focus."

Hence the title of the current exhibition, Milieu Perversions. A more disturbing heading than Yu's earlier solo exhibition, City Of Light, which was on display at Arts in China. Remnants of the earlier theme are visible perhaps only in the 1.2 square metre painting in the corner, entitled Neon Distraction. Again, it looks like a vision of Wan Chai seen through beer goggles.

"Neon Distraction is about too much information. Hong Kong is very advertisement-driven. How you subconsciously take it all in. You look at it and think, 'here's this advertisement that's coming at me and I can't get away from it'. Every square inch of town just seems sponsored by something," says Yu, who's lived here for more than a decade but is still bemused by it.

It's difficult to argue with Yu on the frenzy of local marketing. Take a trip through Causeway Bay and every building seems to be slapped with skyscraper-sized ads of beer, make-up, jewellery, colas, gym-membership, watches and fashion labels. Everything that you evidently need or couldn't possibly have enough of. "It's true of advertising anywhere and everywhere but when I'm in Hong Kong, I feel it's much more pressured. You lose perception of where you are," says Yu.

"Neon Distraction was a piece that I started before I did any of the other pieces. My earlier work was generally about Hong Kong while this current exhibition is thematically different. At the same time, it relates to this exhibition because it has to do with advertising which is essentially to do with perception of images." Isn't the politicised subtext going to be lost in Hong Kong? "It's such a financially driven place - how a war would affect the stock market or the economy," Yu says. "That's what the focus is on. But look at what happened on Tuesday [in the 500,000-strong protest against the proposed national security law]. For four straight hours from Causeway Bay to the Government offices I walked with thousands and thousands of people. I was completely surprised at the turnout. It was so impressive."

Then why not just post photographs of what is the most disturbing or manipulative and then enlarge, crop and frame? Why not show reality without the paint and subtext routines?

"I'm not just using the oil paint for the sake of it, because I like the aesthetic," Yu continues. "It goes well with the kind of imagery that I'm trying to show. Pictures taken from television or the internet are the most technologically advanced way of showing images. I'm then taking that completely out of context and going back into one of the most historic ways of showing imagery, which is oil painting."


Milieu Perversions runs until July 16 at Goethe Gallery, 14/F, Hong Kong Arts Centre, 2 Harbour Road, Wan Chai. Mon-Fri, 9am-9pm. Sat 2pm-6pm. Inquiries: 2829 9916.

24 hours: Joey Lee: Interview with Kick boxing champion and personal trainer in Hong Kong

The 28-year-old muay thai champion tells P.Ramakrishnan how she has never lost a fight and why kicking ass is the best way to stay in shape. Photo by David Wong. Hair and make-up Karen Yiu.


"Normally I get up at 6.30am and rush to Pure Fitness, as I have early morning clients and classes as a personal trainer. From about 7am until 10am I am booked up. In the past, though, there have been bankers who've wanted to train as early as 6am, which means I have to be up at 5am and sociable before the sun rises.

But, before I hit the gym, I eat a healthy breakfast - usually oatmeal with bananas or blueberries, or whatever's in the house. I cook for myself but I have a part-time maid who delivers lunch and dinner to the gym; she's fabulous, my lifesaver. For protein and vitamins, I stick to oatmeal and fresh fruit. Most of the time I'm on my feet, so I need the energy.

When I'm not in training, I indulge in French toast with chocolate and bananas, which my trainer [Pierre Ingrassia from The One Martial Gym] would not be happy to hear about. I have to maintain a weight range for fights and it can be a struggle to get it down.

I have a mix of men and women who train with me but, before noon, it's mostly women. They're not there to become professional kick-boxers or to compete against me in the ring; they just want to get into shape and it's the fastest way to shed kilos.

When I'm done with training others, I begin my own training and I usually go for a run around the beautiful waterfront, near the Star Ferry. Those little Nescafé cans keep me awake in the morning but the run will really kick me into gear.

For lunch my helper will source my low-carb menu.

I have chicken or stir-fried vegetables or grilled fish with vegetables. She even cuts up fresh fruit for me - like I said, I am spoiled.

During my breaks, if it's the right time, I will call my mum in Vancouver. I was born in Taiwan but brought up in Canada. When I was in school and college, I did sports - a lot of basketball - and I was always competitive. I tried muay thai for a lark. I really enjoyed it and, when I started winning matches, obviously I enjoyed it more.

Since I moved to Hong Kong in 2005, the two titles I've won have been the World Muay Thai Championship Asian women's champion and the South Pacific champion.

Even though my family's in Canada, Mum can watch the fight in Thailand, Macau or wherever [on YouTube] the next day but I report back by phone. My mother worries about me a lot but at the same time she wants all the details. I have to call her after every fight almost immediately otherwise I know she'll worry herself sick. She has come to just one of my matches but she couldn't watch someone kick the s**t out of me.

When I moved to Hong Kong, after studying, I didn't know what I wanted to do. As both my parents are originally from Hong Kong, I had residency here so I flew down to see what it was like. It's great; so many opportunities have come up. I got a job as a trainer at Pure quite quickly and Pierre saw a fight of mine somewhere, tracked me down and said he'd manage me.

I was fighting for a local gym, really underground stuff, like you would see in movies on cable TV. [Then I got] my first big fight, in Sydney. The first one was a draw - I've never lost a fight.

I've been fighting around Asia and Australia. My last fight was a big event in Macau, which I won. Fortunately, this time the media reported it correctly. Last year, I was in a fight in Macau and the Hong Kong papers misreported that I lost the fight.

I train almost every day in the afternoon at The One, which is a gym dedicated to muay thai and kick-boxing.

I really sweat it out. On Monday to Friday for about two hours I workout. On Saturday, my day off [from training others], it's about four hours. I spar with my trainer or there's a guy I train with. (There aren't many, if any, girls in Hong Kong who are at my level in muay thai so it's usually a man.) It's interesting to fight with a guy because they think it's going to be a little easier. When it turns out it's not, even if we're just training, they get a bit rough and end up hurting me and themselves. It's a pride thing, but I'm just there to train.

Kick-boxing is all about preparation and training. A fight usually lasts three to five rounds, two minutes each. I'm 'on stage' for about 15 minutes - it really is my 15 minutes of fame. Just for those few minutes I have to train for about six months. Even on my days off, I try to do some form of exercise: I run on Bowen Road or The Peak, or I play tennis. I've just started wakeboarding at Tai Tam. Most of my friends are pretty healthy and often they are my gym buddies or clients too.

Usually my training starts weeks, months before a fight and I go at it pretty hard. I start my diet and running and all that jazz. I can drop about 5.5kg in six weeks. Anyone can do that if they work at it. You don't have to train for eight hours a day. All you need to do is regular workouts and cut the crap: no sugar, no alcohol, easy on the carbs, drink plenty of water - all the clichés that are so obvious. If you have a goal - and usually a big fight will goad me into it - it's easier to achieve.

Currently, there's a big fight that I'm working towards: the world title. I was promised if I won the last fight, I could fight [American kick-boxing champion] Angela Rivera-Parr or one of the other top, well-known fighters in the world. There's an Australian girl who I'll be challenging for the world title in December at the Galaxy StarWorld Hotel in Macau, so, if I don't want to get the crap kicked out of me, I've got to start training for it now. It's a huge event, with about 2,000 to 3,000 people watching and millions more on TV. There's pyrotechnics, big music, the high rollers. Tickets to my last fight cost US$3,000 per table. I get paid a certain amount to take part but I don't do it for the money and I'm not just saying that. I'm doing it for the love of the sport.

Around 6pm, I'm back at Pure, as I have clients till about 9 or 10pm. By the end of the day, I am beat. I try to eat dinner in between seeing clients and I just gulp it down. I try to eat earlier in the evening as opposed to later. I live in a small apartment, not far from the gym and I cab it home. If work ends early, then I go out to eat with my friends. I don't drink at all. Not ever, not even champagne. But I really enjoy my food. I'm a total foodie and love to try different things and new restaurants. During the heat of training season, I have a bowl of Chinese soup for dinner then I get my eight hours' sleep.

There's a list of people I'd like to fight before I retire. Until then, you know where to find me. At the gym."

Publication Date: September 16, 2007
Post Magazine,
The South China Morning Post

See earlier feature Kick the Girls and Make them Cry

Master Class

Battle-hardened opera star Lin Weilin is flying the flag for the ancient military dance art of kunqu. P.Ramakrishnan watches him on the front lines.

WITHOUT THE ELABORATE costumes, layers of makeup and artificial beards that stretch to his belly, Lin Weilin may not be as impressive a sight as he is on stage, but he still has a commanding presence.

With a room full of aspiring artists watching his every move, the kunqu opera master displays military actions in dance - through the story of a hero fighting in a battle - and it is a demonstration that leaves them speechless.

But not for long. Lin, director of the Zhejiang Kunqu Opera Troupe, soon puts them through their paces, issuing orders for manoeuvres involving horsewhips, and holding stretches until muscles ache. The Kwai Tsing Theatre, where these budding stars are in the middle of a two-day workshop under Lin's guidance, fills with gasps and groans.

Lin says he hopes the same auditorium will soon be filled with the sighs of an appreciative audience, when he performs such classic sketches as Lu Bu Taming the Horse and The Singing Coach. But he is a realist and says most forms of Chinese opera - even kunqu with its spectacular martial arts routines - are suffering from an image problem among the young.

"Currently, most of our audience is elderly. We need to build up our audience base with time," says Lin, emphasising the need for interaction in the seminars he's done over the years before and after shows and during workshops and university visits.

"Zhejiang Kunqu Opera Troupe tries very hard to bring the art form to campuses," he says. "We hold seminars and demonstrations at Zhejiang University regularly, which also provide opportunities for kunqu beginners to practise and experience the art form. There are some stories of kunqu opera that can be enjoyable to kids even at the age of six, such as The Singing Coach from The Story of the Embroidered Tunic [to be staged in March]," he says.

Lin belongs to the xiu, or fourth, generation of the troupe and is best known as a wusheng (performer of military roles).

As he takes up arms to fight in close combat, with lightning hand and legwork and powerful thrusts of stage weapons, Lin shows the nimbleness that won him the "No.1 Footwork in Jiangnan" title. In 2002, Lin topped the National Kunqu Accreditation Showcase and won the award for promoting the art, jointly presented by Unesco and the Ministry of Culture of China.

Yet, like opera everywhere, kunqu has a niche audience - an older generation patronising a fading art. "It is well-received and being very much appreciated among cultural people," he says. "It is enjoyed by sophisticated audiences. Although it is not widely accepted by the masses, kunqu opera is considered a very important element of Chinese culture."

Lin's stress on sophistication is not coincidental. Kunqu opera was founded before the Ming dynasty (1368-1644) in Kun Shan, Zhejiang province, and has a longer history than Beijing opera. It was performed exclusively for royal or wealthy families, and a literary and lyrical emphasis surpassed military style performances. It also developed into a more gentle musical experience than other styles of opera, such as Cantonese.

Despite fears that globalisation could harm traditional pursuits, Lin says the modernisation he has seen during his 40 years of performance has helped the art form. "China is undergoing rapid economic growth. But people are even more attached to the importance of cultural life, which will be an advantage to the further development of kunqu opera," he says.

Even without the overstated eye makeup, Lin's expressions are sharp and stately and his presence is impossible to ignore. He exudes the energy and strength of a man who has followed a strict martial arts and theatrical training programme all his life.

"I live in exercise," he says. "Performing a military role on stage, I need to practise every day to keep in the best shape. Of course, this is very important to my health also. Artists need to have nice voices as well. To bring to our audience a good show, we need to have our voices and body movements perfectly matched. Usually, kunqu opera artists look younger than their ages. That's why I believe that to learn and perform kunqu opera can be a kind of fitness training."

What does he hope for from the students when they attend the workshop? "They will enjoy it I believe, and ... well, bring your own horsewhip."


Lin Weilin and the Zhejiang Kunqu Opera Troupe will perform at the Two Virtuosi in Chinese Opera concert with local star Lee Lung and the Lung Fei Cantonese Opera Troupe on March 25-28, 7.30pm, Kwai Tsing Theatre, Auditorium. Tickets: $100, $220, $300 Urbtix. With Chinese and simplified English surtitles. The Martial Art Routines in Kunqu Opera Workshop (in Putonghua) will be held tomorrow and Sunday, 3pm-5.30pm; and Mon and Tue, 7.30pm-10pm, at the Kwai Tsing Theatre Gallery. Inquiries: 2268 7323

24 hours: Shobhaa De: Interview with famed Indian author, editor and model, columnist Shobhaa De

The 59-year-old workaholic has written 15 novels, pens three newspaper columns weekly and Indian soap operas, and has her own fashion label. She tells P.Ramakrishnan why she has no time for writer's block.

"My day is frenzied, frantic, lunatic and s-t-r-e-t-c-h-e-d. I am not a lark and refuse to get up at dawn. My mornings start slowly and only after my first cuppa (preferably Darjeeling). I have no beauty regime or state secret to defy age, other than cleanliness. I've never been to the gym. I don't jog (although in my college days I was sporty). I have a 15-minute stretch routine that I've been doing since my school days and that's all.

I have a fortunate life with help - drivers, cooks and so on. My staff have been with me for years so they know just how hot I like my morning tea. I don't cook but I am a great cook - even if I say so myself. I don't follow recipes but go by instinct, flavours and aromas. I haven't made anything for years and my life would be at a standstill if we didn't have the helpers. I have 20 professional balls up in the air at any given moment. Whenever I am asked how I manage to do it all - the secret of my success - I always say: 'Behind every successful man is a woman and behind every successful woman, there's another woman.' In this case, it's my helper.

I read about eight newspapers in an obsessive-compulsive way, soak up everything, every morning, religiously. Two of the youngest kids are still in the house (the other four are adults and managing their lives and careers in Dubai, Malaysia and around India) but they're old enough to take care of themselves. My youngest is finishing school and preparing for university. I don't kiss them goodbye every morning because I don't subscribe to clichés. For the love of having my children around safe and sound, I don't drop them off at school - because I've no aptitude for driving and have crashed too many expensive cars. My children go in school buses, like others.

There's a large, antique circular dining table in the middle of the house where I sit and work like a demon. It's a huge mess of papers, magazines, articles I've cut out, ideas penned, notepads, stationery. You can't find the table under all the papers and [my family] threaten to bin it all. My mess and I bond. I know exactly where everything is and it frustrates my family no end. Fortunately, they all leave the house in the morning and I can sit uninterrupted.

I hardly break for lunch, it's my peak productive zone.

I get a lot of work done in a non-stop, focused way from about 10.30am to 2.30pm. I don't believe in writer's block. It's a lazy excuse and people just have to get up and get on with it.

I wrote each of my novels by hand but my articles were typed up - until about six months ago [when], in a state of panic, I caught up with technology out of necessity. I used to hand-write my columns too and fax them at noon. One of my daughters would type it up and send it off to the editors. With all the girls getting out of the house, I have taken a quantum leap into e-mail and computers - which I hate. I miss my penmanship. I hope to die with a cheap ballpoint pen at hand - cheap because I've lost too many pens, including a beautiful Dupont in Hong Kong recently.

I have never approached a paper or magazine for work. I say it not with arrogance but with pride that people have been interested in my opinion. Apart from the four regular gigs [for Indian newspapers and magazines], I also write guest columns for various publications. I treat my day like chewing gum - stretch it and stretch it till it's 36 hours long.

I have meetings and brainstorming sessions all afternoon: there are the two TV shows scripted by me on air, the fashion line, another book in the works, a new TV project, film ideas. I never leave the house. Mumbai traffic is hideous. I always ask people to come to my home in Cuff Parade. If someone really wants to meet me then they can sit in traffic for two hours, otherwise it's not worth their trouble or mine.

Fortunately, as a freelance writer, I can travel the world. I have a stock of features banked up in advance. I've been a journalist for nearly 40 years and I've never missed a deadline. And filing from my travels is just not done. It's too hectic. Like the time I was last in Hong Kong four, five years ago for the literary festival: there was this mad dash, trying to find a fax and send a feature across to The Times of India - I hated that chaos.

This weekend, I'm off to Italy to promote the third book being released there. My writings are translated and published around the world and my columns are syndicated in various languages around India.

My late afternoons are even more frazzled. The children are back, we take a lassi or coffee break over hot, buttered toast and even hotter gossip. That's my big indulgence for the day. We enjoy those light-hearted moments.

I love being with my children. I'm so happy they are such complex, interesting, amusing people. I'd rather hang with them - don't ask me if the reverse is true - than any socialite or celebrity. And they are my harshest critics. When Elle magazine listed me as one of the most fashionable women in India, my daughter laughed and reeled in horror, 'This gypsy look is in?' she asked. They don't understand it and roll their eyes.

I await the arrival of Mr De about 6.30pm. I put my pen down, shut down - or try to - and watch him at his elaborate tea ritual. Early evenings at home are also spent chatting with the children, discussing their work, emotional tangles and other anxieties.

Contrary to the [Indian society column] Page 3 myth, I don't attend every event - but I get photographed at the ones I do. We stay at home six nights of the week and accept just one invitation, if that, preferably on a Saturday night. We are making an exception to this rule as there's a dinner with Indian Finance Minister Palaniappan Chidambaram. He's an amazing mind, a very engaging conversationalist and for exceptional people, we make exceptions.

My big treat, normally on Friday or Saturday evenings, is watching a Hindi film at the nearest multiplex. I recommend a Hindi movie to anyone looking for an instant stress buster.

We eat a late-ish dinner, about 10pm. I read till 2am and keep the light on, much to my husband's grievance. We've been married for so long but even now, when he reads with me, he chats and it drives me up the wall.

My work is not about reporting. It's about observation and I'm acutely alive to change. I'm excited by newness. There is always far more material than columns and books and that's a good place to be in. The source of inspiration has not turned dry. I've never run out of ideas. My work speaks for itself. Every book is a best-seller and no critic or other author has been able to stop it from being a success."

Photo, courtesy of Gautam Rajadhyaksha


Also see: Brand it like Mumbai.

My First Society Column: South China Morning Post: TBT 2003

Give 'em Noel

THE GATES OF the dynastic Harilela mansion in Kowloon Tong swung open for the clan's annual by-invitation-only pre-Christmas bash. About 200 guests mingled in the Mughul room, function room and Japanese garden while indulging in a feast prepared by chefs from Gaylord and Loong Yuen restaurants - co-owned by the Harilela group - the family's huge in-house kitchens.

Prominent faces among the well-heeled revelers were Kim Robinson - lord of folly an follicles - who was seen canoodling with Chanel's Mabel Au-Yeung. Cable TV's Sharon Cheung, one of Hong Kong's most recognisable and glamorous reporters, challenged the imperial decree of the colour-themed invitation (men in black, women in red) by stepping out in a black evening dress festooned with pink flora.


Another non-conforming invitee was Kam Kwok-leung,who appeared in a metallic, cleavage-baring, lace-brocaded navy blue creation - desperately trying to preserve his Best Dressed Hong Kong Personality 2002 reputation.


Perveen Crawford detached herself from sister Nasreen Ting long enough to pose with David Harilela (who did a funky jig on the dance floor later) and Bobby Oberio. Harry Hiranand enjoyed being sandwiched by the ladies in red - even if it was just for a picture.



My first ever column and blurb, back in the day at SCMP.
Monday January 13, 2003

Gone to Waist: Health Post: SCMP: Interview with Muk Venkatraman: Health Feature

Men aiming for that elusive six-pack stand a fat chance of success on a dodgy diet, writes P.Ramakrishnan. Photos by Hyvis Tong.

You've sen him - the middle-aged man at the gym in a muscle t-shirt with flabby arms and even flabbier belly, his sweaty arms flailing around as he groans to do another sit-up.

Robert Wang, 42, has been battling the bulge since he hit 40. "When I was younger, it was as if I had hollow legs - everything I ate would go straight through me," says the engineer. "But now it seems that I've developed a tummy that I can't get rid of. I've tried everything to trim down. I've watched my diet - at one stage I was just eating soup. And I've exercised at the gym. But nothing has really made a dent."

"Men ask: 'Is my stomach flat enough?', 'Am I fit enough?', 'A I good enough," says psychologist Lesley Lewis, from Culture3Counsel.

Harrison Pope, co-author of The Adonis Complex and a Harvard Medical School psychology professor, says females aren't the only ones who suffer from eating disorders and an obsession with their appearance. Males, especially teenagers, are increasingly "tying their self-worth to their \body image", says Pope. "They're obsessed with their bodies." Advertising and celebrities have raised unrealistic expectations.


Personal trainer Muk Venkatraman at Physical Harmony Personal Training, says no only do men want a flat stomach, they want instant results. He constantly sees men in the gym struggling in vain to rid themselves of a sagging gut. "I see people doing crunches and sit-ups, thinking that their huge tyre around the waist is going to get smaller, but that six-pack won't show on anyone who has a high body-fat percentage."

Excess body fat from the Hong Kong diet and a sedentary lifestyle is contributing to ballooning waistlines. "We have a rich carbohydrate saturated diet - the rice and noodles," says MSL Nutritional Diet Centre dietitian Joanne Chan Yuk-yi. "But I also find loads of people have a high protein intake too - an unhealthy balance of it, which is increasing the fat around the stomach. My clients say to me: 'It's the rice that makes my stomach bloat, or the noodles.' But it's not just the rice. It's the sauce, how you cook the meat, the deep-fried food, the cream-based sauces. The small bowl of rice that most people have at lunch is not the main culprit."

So what should you eat to get your stomach from fat to fit?

"Smaller portions," says Chan. "Eating until your belly's completely full is an archaic notion. Fruits and vegetables, high-grain foods are great as they help your bowel movements expel toxins from the body. Drink eight glasses of water a day - with the high fibre intake, you'll need the water to move it out."

And tonic water doesn't count. "A lot of people in Hong Kong drink too much alcohol," says Venkatraman. "Not only are they poisoning their body, but they're adding empty calories."

Chan agrees. "Our liver metabolises alcohol and excess alcohol turns into fat, easily deposited in the stomach area - and that's any kind of alcohol."

Venkatraman says beer bellies are made when your calorie consumption exceeds the exercise you do. "What it all comes down to is calories in versus calories out," says Venkatraman. "Do you eat more than your body burns? If the answer is yes, then you'll gain weight."

Forty per cent of Hongkongers have waistlines that exceed the recommended standard, according to a patient study. That makes the proportion of Hongkongers with outsized waistlines the same as that for North Americans. The standard average waistline suggested for local men in Hong Kong is 89cm, while for women, it's 80cm, according to the International Diabetes Federation. Their 2005 study, called the 'Idea' - International Day for the Evaluation of Abdominal Obesity - is a global survey involving about 180,000 patients from 63 countries. It aimed to find the prevalence of abdominal obesity and its relationship to the risk of chronic diseases. It was the first time Hong Kong had taken part in the survey.

Just as worrying is that the Chinese have a genetic tendency to accumulate fat in the inner abdomen, which increases the likelihood of heart disease, diabetes and other illnesses related to obesity. This recent Canadian study examined 822 healthy individuals. Doing sit-ups, for example, is unlikely to help someone lose harmful inner abdominal fat exclusively, says Gwen Chapman, a professor of nutritional sciences at the University of British Columbia. "That's more likely to affect the muscles, and so you might have more muscle tone in your stomach," she says.

Specialist men's slimming clinic Mence says a growing number of its clients sign on wanting to build a six-pack. "In Hong Kong, most businessmen don't have the time to spend hours in the gym, so we provide services to target their problem areas - especially around their stomach," says spokesman Ronald Kwok Ka-lok. "They can relax and sometimes go to sleep while the machines do the work. There's an infra-red treatment, ulra-sound treatment, a lymphatic treatment and many others."

Although there's no such thing as a quick fix, Venkatraman says one way to appear instantly slimmer is to improve your posture. "The better your posture, the more calories you'll burn. Slouching is what the body does to save energy, If your body is upright with good posture, then technically you're burning more calories."

Venkatraman also says it's important to keep moving. "Stop taking the elevator and take the stairs instead. Don't jump in a taxi, use the MTR and save the environment and yourself."


Tone that tummy with core control
Sit at your desk in an upright, tall position. Pull your stomach in for five to 10 seconds and release. then do this about 20 times or more if you can. It's called the 'drawing in manoeuvre".

According to the National Academy of Sports Medicine, this action will directly influence the deep stabilisers in your core. In particular the transversus abdominis also known as the TVA.

"This is the muscle that keeps your body stable. Without this, we would collapse like a ton of bricks." says personal trainer Muk Venkatraman.

CONTACTS:

• Leslie Lewis at http://www.culture3counsel.com/
• MSL Nutritional Diet Centre
• Muk Venkatraman at www.elitefitnesshk.com