One does not simply live without happy pants.
photos by Zanita Morgan
The tale of printed happy pants most likely stemmed from my 8-year-old love affair with a pair of pyjama bottoms in the tiled print family - a stones throw from the ASOS silk legs above. As my adolescence drew on, the waists got higher, the legs got slouchier, the ankles got tighter and all humans in the vicinity got happier by the dozen. Now, lounging under the dense green above Sri Panwa's private beach, I look back on the first eight years of existence and say what the hell, Margaret: one does not simply live without happy pants.
The rule I've set for myself in the insatiable pursuit of happy pants is always to size up. Certainly, the designers probably never intended their careful tailoring to amount to a luxe incarnation of boyfriend pyjamas, but embrace the scandal and wear your hair down for good measure. I would, however, suggest that your top half hold some breed of femininity or, for the tropics, some neoprene sharpness. Any jersey, t-shirt, or singlet In these three instances, my perfect new KEM issara top with slightly ballooned sleeves, fit for being Ernest, ticked that box to the nth degree. You'll be hearing so much more from me about this downright excellent Thai designer (her latest collection has some serious Céline vibes and a perfect balance between sharp tailoring, sporty paneling and feminine lines). A huge thanks to my lovely readers in Thailand for introducing us!
As I've declared countless times on every channel at my fingertips, the jungle in and around Sri Panwa is, hands down, my favourite thing about the property. I've never seen so much intensely vibrant and diverse greenery growing so densely and endlessly upward. This is the stuff of silver screen dreams, people. My bucket list just upped to shooting a post-apocalyptic film here some day.
P.S. if you don't like the pun that Zanita and I just had a major giggle over, then we are no longer friends.