Everyone is raving about Poetry, Siem Reap’s latest retail addition. Words by Nicky Hosford
It’s hard to buy clothes in Siem Reap, really hard. Alas, we can’t wear silk every day, not even underneath. We’re not really into “No Money, No Honey” t-shirts – Heaven forbid that one should ever be mistaken for a tourist – and we’re not, most of us, so small that we can get into the clothes sold in the markets. “I shop once a year. When I go home”, is the common, flat reaction when you ask someone where they obtained any particular item of clothing.
“Oh my God! You haven’t been yet?!! You have to go!” said my usually, mostly, measured friend. I’d asked her where she got her rather magnificent bracelet. Great chunks of fake amber, in a rather Queenly formation, wrapped her wrist. It was cool. I wanted one. “Poetry is the best shop Ever!“ she said. Crikey, better do as she says.
So I went, and there I met Don Prosatio, the Filipino designer of the clothes in the shop and partial inspiration for all the madness contained therein. The other part of the inspiration is Loven Ramos, a Filipino artist who is also seeing significant recognition for his work. Between the two of them, and all their friends, the shop is an endlessly changing whirl of fashion, art, stationary, accessories, and random wares that they find. “It’s very fluid then?”, I asked. “Emm, actually I was going to say it’s more chaotic” said Don frankly.
Like the river that is a reflection of your core, this shop will never be the same shop that you entered before. It is entirely a likeness of the personalities of the two men behind it: evolving, quirky and fun. “You know, someone asked me why we just put in the bright yellow/green chairs”, said Don, “and, really, there’s no answer to that. We just like them! There are no rules in this place. The only constraint is space”.
Lining the walls are Don’s funky and magically soft clothing line is intended to create a sense of freedom and balmy ease. They’re sloppy, loose and can be worn with anything. “I wanted to make stuff that I would wear”, says Don. “I don’t want costumes, I want clothes that can be integrated into any wardrobe”.
And that’s only part of the fun. Loven’s artful sense of humour is everywhere to be seen, from his aspirational tote-bags, “Dear God Please Turn Me Into A Gucci”, poetic books of matches, “Why do thee stir such fire?”, and spunky notebooks and cards.
Then there’s the jewellery. Scattered all over the shop, the collection is drawn together from all parts of the world, designed by friends of the boys, and by the boys themselves. This is not so much a cooperative of artists and designers, as a playhouse. Every piece is unique, frivolous and guaranteed to make addicts of this shop.
When asked if they had plans to expand to Phnom Penh, Don says no, not yet. For him and Loven, the shop is so much an extension of who they are that it would be impossible to run it remotely. For Phnom Penhers, make sure you put this on your itinerary the next time you’re bringing relatives/friends up to visit the temples. To all who find this mad, magical Aladdin’s Cave, you will never be stuck for birthday presents or that necessary accessory again.
