UNIFORM SUBVERSION In my view, six out of 10 kids are attention seeking, and each has their own method of getting [that attention]. Some are cry-babies, some are model students, some break the 100-metre record, some break things. For me it was fashion.
My mum was a tailor, and she was very much into dressing up. I was surrounded by beautiful clothes growing up. When I started middle school, the norm in boys' uniforms was pleated, baggy pants and lots of pockets and buttons on the shirts and blazers. Then, one day, the school banned any embellishments. I felt the rule book killed creativity, specifically the uniforms. My counter-attack was minimalism. I made button covers and took out all the pockets; I made the stitching as invisible as possible - very Jil Sander (before the brand existed). Rules were useful after all. In retrospect, I realise the stricter the limitations, the more admirable and interesting it is when you find ways to circumvent them. It forces you to think outside the box.
TALKING THE TALK I am Hong Kong head- to-toe; the longest I've ever spent outside of Hong Kong was a month. I never liked Chinese history and Chinese poetry was not my thing either; but I have always loved my language - especially Hong Kong colloquial Cantonese. It's a language that is clever, concise and tseen [literally 'the lowest of low'], which encapsulates wit and bitchiness. Other dialects that I have come across don't have the same quality of tseen.
I used to be a radio host [for Commercial Radio Hong Kong]. My colleagues [rap duo Soft Hard] were working on an album. They'd spend countless hours trying to come up with lyrics; whenever they'd get stuck, they'd ask me for ideas. I'd always been a huge fan of Canto-pop. They found that I had some talent and decided to officially co-write the album with me. It ended up being one of the seminal albums in the Canto-pop canon, so I was very lucky with my entrance into that profession. After that, the offers came in steadily.
I think Cantonese lyrics are the hardest to write. With English, if the words fit syllabically into a melody, it's fine. In Cantonese, because there are nine tones, you have to take into account the way a melody warps a character or word, giving the wrong meaning when sung. It is the only language that I know where the tone limits what you can put down in lyrics. It's like walking a tightrope, but if you find the balance and do a few somersaults while you are at it; it's really something.
LASTING IMPRESSIONS Fashion is something you should definitely regret later. If you look at an outfit you wore in an old photo and you don't regret the choice, then it's just clothing. The Cantonese for fashion [see jong] contains the character 'time', which infers that fashion is subject to the limits of just that.