
In a troubled world, grown-ups find joy in doll's houses
A log burns in the hearth in the artfully lit drawing room. The armchairs look plush and inviting. Glasses and a bottle of wine stand ready as a grandfather clock keeps time.
It is all straight out of a glossy magazine and yet every carefully crafted item in the room could fit into the palm of one hand.
"I love Victorian (19th century) houses and always wanted to live in one but it never happened," laughed doll's house enthusiast Michele Simmons, admiring the cosy miniature scene by historical specialists Mulvany & Rogers.
The 57-year-old corporate recruiter revived her childhood passion for doll's houses during the pandemic and has since "flipped" about 10, buying them, doing them up and selling them on.
The annual festival has been gathering some of the world's finest miniature craftspeople, celebrating a hobby that has seen rising interest in recent years.
She and her daughter thought nothing of flying all night from Boston in the United States to hunt for tiny curtains and a child's crib at the leading Kensington Dollshouse festival in London.
"I love it! You don't think about anything else when you are doing this," she said, admitting she often had to be dragged out of her work shed to feed her children as she became so absorbed.
Miniatures at the London Dollhouse Showcase.
Exquisite miniatures
The annual festival has been gathering some of the world's finest miniature craftspeople since 1985, celebrating a hobby that has seen rising interest recently and a mushrooming of online activity.
It showcases tiny versions of anything needed to furnish a house, from chandeliers and paintings to mahogany dining tables and kitchen items, all with steep price tags.
Doll's houses may be traditionally associated with children, but this high-end miniature collecting is very much an adult hobby.
"This is craftspeople working on just exquisite things," said self-confessed "tiny-obsessed" Rachel Collings, who bought toys from renowned miniaturists Laurence & Angela St. Leger.
A miniature home at the show.
Every single one of her purchases, which cost at least £40 (RM228), fits easily into a small plastic container and will be added to her collection of equally small items.
"I've got half a cut lemon. Just imagine the size of that. A lemon squeezer and a pastry brush and a hand whisk that actually works," said the 47-year-old editor.
"It's an inner child thing. These things are just so beautiful."
Doll's houses originated from Europe in the 1500s when they were used to display the miniature possessions of the wealthy.
Just as at the London festival, these so-called "baby houses" were strictly for adults, not children.
Retired midwife Susan Evans, 67, on her annual pilgrimage from Colwyn Bay in north Wales, does not just have one doll's house.
"I have a whole village," she said. "It's got 18 Victorian shops, a school, a manor house, a pub and a now a church," she said, adding that the church had cost over £4,000 (RM228,664).
Initially the hobby was just a stress-buster to help her unwind, but she has now raised thousands of pounds hosting groups to visit the display in her home.
"It's my passion. It's escapism and it's about using your imagination, which I think is very good for your mental health," she said.
Every year since 1985, Kensington Town Hall becomes a centre for all dolls house and miniatures enthusiasts and collectors. — Photos: BENJAMIN CREMEL/AFP
In control
Kensington Dollshouse organiser Charlotte Stokoe said there was currently huge interest in doll's houses and miniatures compared to before the pandemic.
"When the world itself is going a bit crazy with so much stress in everyone's lives, it's quite relaxing. You are in control," she said, adding that many people had delighted in pulling out old doll's houses during the Covid lockdowns.
And at a time of rising costs, she said, people had "discovered they can do interior design that maybe they can't do with their own homes – in small scale it's so much more doable".
People attend the London Dollhouse Showcase in London.
Medical anthropologist Dalia Iskander of University College London (UCL) has spent three years researching the subject for her forthcoming book Miniature Antidotes.
"For many people it's a way of exploring their own experiences and memories and imagination and incorporating that into these miniature worlds," she said.
A whole range of medical issues such as depression or anxiety could all be explored through miniatures in a "beneficial" way, she added.
Miniatures enthusiast Collings said the hobby had become such a source of happiness that her 12-year-old daughter also got involved. She urged anyone to give it a try.
"When everything is difficult, there are these tiny things," she said.
"Sometimes I just go and sit and look at them and it just makes me happy." – By HELEN ROWE/AFP
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Rakyat Post
19-06-2025
- Rakyat Post
The Meaning Of 'Coterie': Celest Thoi On Fashion, Friendship & Finding Purpose In Design
Subscribe to our FREE What's in a coterie? In fashion, the word might evoke a circle of tastemakers, a rarefied club of the stylish and the seen. But for bridal and fashion designer Celest Thoi, it's something far more intimate: a reminder of friendship, trust, and the collective heartbeat behind every piece she creates. (Jon Low Studios) 'The Coterie started with my girlfriends,' she says. 'They were the ones who believed in me, supported me, encouraged me to start something. They're still my best ambassadors today.' Elegant, understated, and laced with quiet strength, Celest's designs – whether bridal gowns or ready-to-wear – have long spoken to a kind of timeless femininity. But behind the white-on-white aesthetic and impeccable craft lies a deeper story of community, cross-cultural influence, and a life lived across continents. From Down Under to Bangsar Amber Chia with Celest on the runway for MBFWKL 2025. (Jon Low Studios) Born in Singapore, Celest's journey has taken her from Melbourne to New Zealand and finally to Malaysia. 'Down under, the weddings are a lot more casual. There's this sense of ease, even in how people get married,' she shares. 'I like ease, but there are varying definitions of it. What they offered didn't always resonate with me, but it shaped my taste. I like classic things – slightly Victorian silhouettes, but always modernised.' It was in New Zealand, faced with a frustrating lack of bridal options that fit her petite frame, that Celest designed her own wedding dress. 'I couldn't find anything I liked or that fit me, so I started sourcing fabrics and working with a Malaysian seamstress I found there,' she recalls. 'Then some friends started asking for help with their dresses, and I just fell in love with the whole process.' (Jon Low Studios) That love soon became a business, then a calling. After opening her first boutique in New Zealand, Celest returned to Malaysia in the late 2000s – and slowly became one of the most trusted names in the country's bridal circuit, known for her attention to detail, her obsession with fit, and yes, her commitment to white. 'I wear white all the time,' she laughs. 'So my friends always ask, 'Eh, where did you get that top?' and I'll say, 'I made it.' That's how The Coterie line started too. They wanted pieces they could wear every day, but with that same level of craft.' A Stitch in Time (Jon Low Studios) Despite the visual minimalism, there's nothing simple about the techniques behind a Celest Thoi piece. She adapts couture methods – meticulous hand-beading, expert tailoring, custom finishes – into her ready-to-wear line, often upcycling leftover fabrics from her bridal collections. 'Once you know how to do couture, you can bring it into everything,' she says. Sustainability, she adds, is not just a trend, it's a mindset. 'Clients are more mindful now. They're asking questions about fabrics, where things are made. There's definitely a shift to being more eco-conscious.' (Jon Low Studios) It was COVID that pushed Celest into uncharted waters. With weddings postponed and lockdowns in place, she launched The Coterie as a more accessible, lifestyle-driven alternative. 'I was delivering PPEs to hospitals at the time, with the police letter and all,' she says. 'And then I'd swing by to drop off fabric or pick up samples. It was a crazy time, but we just made it work.' Design with Heart (Jon Low Studios) Celest's version of 'meaningful design' has always been rooted in purpose. She recalls sponsoring gowns for frontliners during the pandemic – two doctors in love, separated for months, finally reunited for a wedding Celest helped make happen. 'Initially I just offered a dress,' she says. 'But then the hotels, the flowers, the event planner – everyone came in to help. It turned into a full celebration. We just wanted to spread a little love.' The sentiment extends far beyond aesthetics. 'We've also sponsored a bridal gown for a teacher that quit her high-paying job to work at (Jon Low Studios) There's a touch of quiet defiance too – in how she champions local talent and traditional crafts. 'We're just as good as the big names overseas. But Malaysian designers don't always get the recognition. There's so much talent here, so many artisans. Even our traditional crafts are so undervalued. I really hope that changes.' We must celebrate the ones who are changing the landscape of fashion and arts here. Celest Thoi. The Power of Belonging (Jon Low Studios) If community is the heart of Celest's work, then comfort is its soul. 'Comfort is key,' she says, with conviction. 'Whether it's a bridal gown or just a blouse, if you're not comfortable, you won't feel confident. And it's only when you're confident, you look good.' This philosophy, rooted in care, extends to her clients – many of whom have become lifelong friends. 'When I first moved back to Malaysia, I was miserable,' she confesses. 'No friends, no network. But now I feel so blessed. It's the people around you that make it worthwhile.' That idea of being seen – truly seen – is what stays with her most after dressing hundreds of brides. 'When they send me photos, thank you cards, when they tag us on their wedding day… it's heartwarming,' she says. 'It reminds me why I do this.' Always Evolving, Never Trend-Chasing (Jon Low Studios) In an industry often fuelled by seasonal hype, Celest's pace is intentionally slow. 'I don't follow trends,' she laughs. 'I just go with what I like. I think timelessness comes from knowing yourself.' And yet, she continues to evolve. Showing at Mercedes-Benz FashionWeek is still nerve-wracking, even after all these years. 'I always get butterflies,' she admits. 'But just like I tell my kids: If you're going to do something, do your best. If not, don't do it at all.' (Jon Low Studios) With two daughters (one studying criminology, the other leaning towards finance), Celest doesn't expect the next generation to take up the reins. 'They've seen how hard it is,' she says, with a laugh. 'But who knows?' As for what's next, she dreams of creating a single dress entirely from off-cuts and leftover fabric – 'A patchwork of memories,' she jokes, 'and also, to clear out my space!' (Jon Low Studios) But even in jest, it's clear: Celest Thoi's legacy is one stitched together not just with thread and tulle, but with intention, gratitude, and love. 'I'm a hopeless romantic,' she grins. 'But at the end of the day, it's about the people who witness your journey. That's what matters most.' Be a part of the coterie: Follow Share your thoughts with us via TRP's . Get more stories like this to your inbox by signing up for our newsletter.


New Straits Times
18-06-2025
- New Straits Times
UK MPs vote to decriminalise abortion for women in all cases
LONDON: UK MPs have voted to end contentious prosecutions of women in England and Wales for terminating a pregnancy, paving the way for a huge overhaul of how the country's abortion laws are enforced. Currently, a woman can face criminal charges for choosing to end a pregnancy after 24 weeks or without the approval of two doctors, under laws which technically still carry a maximum sentence of life imprisonment. The issue has gained attention in the UK due to recent court cases. In one, a woman was cleared by a jury at trial, while another was released from prison on appeal. MPs voted by a majority of 242 on Tuesday in favour of an amendment put forward by Labour MP Tonia Antoniazzi, which would ensure that no woman would be criminally pursued for terminating her own pregnancy at any time – even though the amendment leaves the underlying abortion laws unchanged. The full crime and policing bill must now be voted on by parliament and then pass the upper House of Lords before becoming law. "Women are currently being arrested from hospital bed to police cell and facing criminal investigations on suspicion of ending their own pregnancy," Antoniazzi told AFP. "My amendment would put a stop to this," she said, adding it was "the right amendment at the right time." Abortion in England and Wales is a criminal offence under the Offences Against the Person Act, passed in 1861 during the Victorian age and which theoretically carries a maximum sentence of life imprisonment. The Abortion Act 1967 made terminations legal in certain circumstances, including by permitting it up to 23 weeks and six days of gestation if done by an authorised provider. Abortions are allowed in limited circumstances after this time, such as if the mother's life is in danger or there is a "substantial risk" the child could be born with a serious disability. An update to the law introduced during the Covid-19 pandemic allows women to take abortion pills at home up to 10 weeks into a pregnancy. In May, Nicola Packer was acquitted after taking prescribed abortion medicine when she was around 26 weeks pregnant, beyond the 10-week legal limit. The 45-year-old told jurors during her trial, which came after a four-year police investigation, that she did not realise she had been pregnant for so long. "It was horrendous giving evidence, absolutely awful," she told The Guardian newspaper last month. The Society for the Protection of Unborn Children has however called the proposed amendment "the greatest threat to unborn babies in decades." Antoniazzi's amendment will not change any of the laws regarding the provision of abortion services, including the time limits. And anyone assisting a woman in getting an abortion outside the remits of the law, such as medical practitioners, will still be liable for prosecution. Some 50 organisations, including abortion providers, medical colleges, and women's rights groups, have backed the amendment. They say six women have appeared in court in England charged with ending or attempting to end their own pregnancy outside abortion law in the last three years. Carla Foster was jailed in 2023 for illegally obtaining abortion tablets to end her pregnancy when she was between 32 and 34 weeks pregnant. The Court of Appeal eventually suspended her sentence. Antoniazzi said police have investigated "more than 100 women for suspected illegal abortion in the last five years including women who've suffered natural miscarriages and stillbirths." "This is just wrong. It's a waste of taxpayers money, it's a waste of the judiciary's time, and it's not in the public interest," she told the BBC Tuesday. When asked about the vote, Prime Minister Keir Starmer said Tuesday that women have the right to a "safe and legal abortion." Northern Ireland decriminalised abortion for women in 2019. Scotland is currently reviewing its abortion laws.


Malaysian Reserve
05-06-2025
- Malaysian Reserve
In troubled world, grown-ups find joy in doll's houses
A LOG burns in the hearth in the artfully lit drawing room. The armchairs look plush and inviting. Glasses and a bottle of wine stand ready as the grandfather clock keeps time. It is all straight out of a glossy magazine and yet every carefully crafted item in the room could fit into the palm of one hand. 'I love Victorian (19th century) houses and always wanted to live in one but it never happened,' laughed doll's house enthusiast Michele Simmons, admiring the cosy miniature scene by historical specialists Mulvany & Rogers. The 57-year-old corporate recruiter revived her childhood passion for doll's houses during the Covid-19 and has since 'flipped' about 10, buying them, doing them up and selling them on. She and her daughter thought nothing of flying all night from Boston, Massachusetts in the US to hunt for tiny curtains and a child's crib at the leading Kensington Dollshouse Festival in London. 'I love it! You don't think about anything else when you are doing this,' she said, admitting she often had to be dragged out of her work shed to feed her children as she became so absorbed. Exquisite Miniatures The annual festival has been gathering some of the world's finest miniature craftspeople since 1985, celebrating a hobby that has recently seen rising interest and a mushrooming of online activity. It showcases tiny versions of anything needed to furnish a house, from chandeliers and paintings to mahogany dining tables and kitchen items, all with steep price tags. Doll's houses may be traditionally associated with children, but this high-end miniature collecting is very much an adult hobby. 'This is craftspeople working on just exquisite things,' said self-confessed 'tiny-obsessed' Rachel Collings, who bought toys from renowned miniaturists Laurence & Angela St Leger. Every single one of her purchases, which cost at least £40 (RM229), fits easily into a small plastic container and will be added to her collection of equally small items. 'I've got half a cut lemon. Just imagine the size of that. A lemon squeezer and a pastry brush and a hand whisk that actually works,' said the 47-year-old editor. 'It's an inner child thing. These things are just so beautiful.' Doll's houses originated from Europe in the 1500s when they were used to display the miniature possessions of the wealthy. Just as at the festival, these so-called 'baby houses' were strictly for adults, not children. Retired midwife Susan Evans, 67, on her annual pilgrimage from Colwyn Bay in north Wales, does not just have one doll's house. 'I have a whole village,' she said. 'It's got 18 Victorian shops, a school, a manor house, a pub and a now a church,' she said, adding that the church had cost over £4,000. Initially the hobby was just a stress-buster to help her unwind, but she has now raised thousands of pounds hosting groups to visit the display in her home. 'It's my passion. It's escapism and it's about using your imagination, which I think is very good for your mental health,' she said. Craftspeople display intricate miniature furnishings at the showcase 'In Control' Kensington Dollshouse organiser Charlotte Stokoe said there was currently huge interest in doll's houses and miniatures compared to before the Covid-19. 'When the world itself is going a bit crazy with so much stress in everyone's lives, it's quite relaxing. You are in control,' she said, adding that many people had delighted in pulling out old doll's houses during the Covid-19 lockdowns. And at a time of rising costs, she said, people had 'discovered they can do interior design that maybe they can't do with their own homes — in small scale it's so much more doable'. Medical anthropologist Dalia Iskander of University College London (UCL) has spent three years researching the subject for her forth-coming book 'Miniature Antidotes'. 'For many people it's a way of exploring their own experiences and memories and imagination and incorporating that into these miniature worlds,' she said. A whole range of medical issues such as depression or anxiety could all be explored through miniatures in a 'beneficial' way, she added. Miniatures enthusiast Collings said the hobby had become such a source of happiness that her 12-year-old daughter also got involved. She urged anyone to give it a try. 'When everything is difficult, there are these tiny things,' she said. 'Sometimes I just go and sit and look at them and it just makes me happy.' — AFP This article first appeared in The Malaysian Reserve weekly print edition