The Colorful Heart of India

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“There are some parts of the world that, once visited, get into your heart and won’t go. For me, India is such a place. When I first visited, I was stunned by the richness of the land, by its lush beauty and exotic architecture, by its ability to overload the senses with the pure, concentrated intensity of its colors, smells, tastes, and sounds. It was as if all my life I had been seeing the world in black and white and, when brought face-to-face with India, experienced everything re-rendered in brilliant technicolor.”
Keith Bellows

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But Above All

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As we were above the clouds flying over Sri Lanka, I couldn’t help but wake up to the brightness flowing through the window. I was a bit delirious from the long transit, and admittedly hung over from celebrating Songkran Festival in Thailand just hours before we had to board our flight early that morning. Only now was it really sinking in that we were about to be in a whole new rabbit hole. This quote has become a daily mantra for me in moments of homesickness, or nostalgia. Because only with an open mind can we achieve an open heart. Being porous during moments can be a vulnerable feeling, often times scary, yet, it is these moments that will teach you how to fly.

The Loudness of New Delhi

We arrived in New Delhi last night and the past 24 hours has been sensory overload. As me and Aaron sat in a dark restaurant where the power was out, we couldn’t help but thrive off India’s loudness. The people were loud, the colors are loud, the flavors are loud, the smells are loud, and the honking is even louder. It’s exactly the culture shock we were looking for, the kind of shock where you can’t help but do a double take. Where cows cross the traffic, past the holy men, all in the midst of women in bright saris balancing baskets on their heads.









New Crop Lookbook Part 2

Some more wildness to bring you a dose of tropical from our lookbook Run Deep Run Wild! This day really was a hot sweaty one and especially fun. This location had so many exotic plants, one of them being our favorite; Bird of Paradise or sometimes called the crane flower is indigenous to South Africa. Doesn’t it’s vibrant orange flowers remind you of a tropical bird’s beak?

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Photographer: Cynthia Barbachano

Makeup artist: Khao Kwankao

Styling: New Crop

Yogi Journey to the Himalayans

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As I pack up the knick knacks and the little boxes of memories that we have collected along the way, I realize how much I am going to miss Aaron and the nest we have made here in Chiang Mai. It was always his birthday wish to wake up a year older in a new city, well San Francisco. We always daydreamed about the culture shock it would be to us compared to Austin, and the hustle it would ingrain in us to not only make it there, but to thrive there. Little did we know that we would both be waking up in New Delhi, India! Wow, life surprises you sometimes in the most interesting ways.

In 3 days, we start our transit to India where I will be spending my days amidst the spirit of the Himalayans to deepen my yoga and spiritual practice as I get certified to be a yoga teacher. I couldn’t be more excited about unplugging from it all for a month and gathering with a sisterhood of yogis doing yoga and meditation from sun up to sundown. I know I will often daydream of what Aaron is experiencing and what stories he will have when we meet back up about his explorations in the cities and the rural countrysides of Northern India. I’ve really gotten accustomed to always having him by my side, but embracing the upcoming alone time and understanding that the togetherness and being apart is after all a beautiful balance.

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New Crop’s Lookbook

We couldn’t be more excited to work and collaborate with Bangkok’s dream team on our first lookbook! The location was lush and beautiful in contrast of the big bustling city that it was in. The vibrant colors of our clothing line, and indigenous fabrics and patterns just radiated amongst all the greenery.

Find these amazing pieces in the shop!

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Photographer: Cynthia Barbachano

Makeup artist: Khao Kwankao

Styling: New Crop

Riding Out The Neon Signs of Route 66

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It’s been almost a year since I have driven a car. I haven’t even thought about it, or missed it. That is until I started listening to our road trip playlist and dejavus started flooding my memory. Isn’t it funny how music can pull you into its time machine and land you in a familiar moment?

Last summer we rode Route 66 all the way to California, as long and slowly as possible. The journey on this vast open road, reciprocated what was happening inside. All of a sudden we were facing the exact opposite of everything we were accustomed to. We rode until it was dark with no perception of time except for “light or dark”, veered off tracks to feed our curiosity and the only deadline we had to meet was our one way flight out of the country a month away. Gonzo stayed on my lap as the open air became his lullaby.

Once we hit the west, we realized we not have only traveled in miles but also back in time. Deserted old motels, faded neon signs and abandoned diners still stands like a ghost town out of a movie. We were in awe of the time warp that we found ourselves in. What we were most impressed with was the design aesthetic of the vintage neon signs. The colors, and the retro typefaces had us stopping every half a mile. From a designers perspective, there was a lot of inspiration to be found here. From a travelers perspective, this was my first encounter of the beauty in traveling slow and smelling the roses (or adoring the neon signs).

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Home is a Feeling: Koh Lanta

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I’ve come to understand that truths behind words such as family, love, happiness, home and freedom are all based on a feeling versus a tangible place or object. During our travels people ask me where is home and it always takes me a minute to respond. There are so many places that are home to me, from the mountains of East Tennessee where I grew up, to the Philippines where I spent my childhood, or Chiang Mai where we have called home for the past few months. This past week we spent it on the island of Koh Lanta. It’s always a surreal feeling when you see familiar faces in completely foreign place. Aaron’s childhood friend Patrick came to visit, and though it has been years since we’ve seen him, our conversations felt like it hasn’t skipped a beat. Last time we saw Patrick was in our college apartment, bonding over cheap 40’s while him and Aaron played video games. Today we are here watching the sunset on an island in Thailand, (still drinking cheap beer), and catching up. The way he chain smokes and laughs is like deja vu, and seeing him felt like he brought a piece of our other home to us. While here, we stayed with our friends who were our neighbors in the same zen compound we once called home in the fall of last year. They invited us down to the island to catch up, so we invited Patrick to join us and for the first time since we left home, we are with familiar faces in a completely different place. I can’t pin why it felt like home, maybe it’s the island vibe that we connect to, it could be reuniting with Patrick after all these years, or sharing a small space with close friends again. Home is such a beautiful feeling, and its what keeps us traveling. We have found our pieces of home, friends, love, and freedom sprinkled in different places all along our journey.

How a Small Island Can Make You Feel Even Smaller

We consider ourselves slow travelers, only after a couple weeks in a place do we really feel that we begin to crack its shell. This is when we start to know the personality behind faces, the story behind the past, and know which dusty roads leads to surrounding villages. I write this during our revisit to Cambodia, as we walk to the sandy coastline of Kampot and as we board a tiny boat to the small island of Koh Tonsay. This charming island inhabited by only 7 families, had no electricity but rather generators that ran a few hours a day. No clocks or wifi and all the food consumed is the food caught from the sea and eaten from the land. No matter how slow we go, there’s something about island life that flows even slower, steadier, and in the most content pace. Our days here felt like a constant state of meditation. The walls of our huts were only halfway connected to its straw roof allowing the breeze to follows us indoors. When I hear noises in the night that move about on our roof, or right outside our thin layers of leafy walls, I clinch our sheets and wonder why us humans have found ways to separate ourselves so far from nature. Why do these noises from other inhabitants of this earth sound so alien to me? Have I gotten so used to the chaotic sounds of the city, that I fall fast asleep during honking horns and drunken rambles of the street, yet lie awake at night to sounds of night creatures? Every step of this journey has been a rewiring of balance. I realize this worlds vastness, as I look up I almost get dizzy with the starry display of an even bigger cosmic world that reflects on the serene ocean. As it washes ashore against my feet, smile as I reflect myself to be a dust-like particle in this vast space and I couldn’t feel any smaller.

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Phnom Penh :: Corrupt City with a Dark History

There’s something about Cambodia that makes it stand way out among the other SE Asian countries we’ve visited so far. It’s something I’ll probably forever struggle with trying to put into words, but there’s a unique feeling I get here that I haven’t felt anywhere else. It’s a mixed feeling of nostalgia, mystery, enchantment, anger, sadness, sympathy… maybe it’s just my subconscious speaking of the country’s dark history, but even before I really learned about all that happened here, I knew this place was something special. It’s the kind of place that continuously triggers thoughts and evokes emotions.

During the Khmer Rouge era, people living in Cambodian cities were forced to evacuate their homes to become slaves in the countryside. The regime’s mission was to solely create a population that was made to work as laborers in one huge federation of collective farms. Anyone in opposition (this meant all intellectuals and educated people) must be eliminated, together with all non-communist aspects of traditional Cambodian society. So in 1975 the beautiful capital city of Phnom Pehn was completely deserted, leaving it to be the world’s largest ghost town. In the end nearly 3 million people or 1/3 of the country’s total population was killed.

In a strange way it almost seems as if time stopped here in the 1970s when all of this happened. Charmie and I visited the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum, a former high school in Central Phnom Penh that was converted into a torture prison in 1975. Nearly 20,000 people were tortured here before being hauled to a killing field about 14km away. On display at the museum were hundreds of documented “mugshots” of the innocent prisoners held there. The faces I saw on the walls looked exactly like the people I see on the streets of Phnom Penh today. They appear to wear the same outfits, have the same haircuts, use the same expressions…. it honestly feels like the majority of people have not changed one bit from that time. It makes it seem like the mass genocide took place only yesterday. It’s as if the Cambodian people just went back to their old homes after the reign was over and acted as if nothing happened.

I look for emotions in the eyes of people I pass on the streets. When I see anyone that looks over the age of 50, I try to imagine the type of life they’ve lived….the terrible sounds and scenes they’ve witnessed. I think about the people close to them that were lost. When I pass someone around my age I wonder what their childhood was like. How did their parents raise them with that darkness still lingering?

You see corruption everywhere you look and you know it’s not stopping anytime soon. Entire families sleep on the sidewalks while policemen drive brand new Range Rovers. The roads leading to the capital city are ridiculous…large portions aren’t even paved. The people of Cambodia are continuing to be dealt a shit hand, but I think now they’re simply content with finally having a sense of peace and quiet. Finally not having to lock their doors in fear of who will come knocking.

I know I’m not the only passing tourist that wonders what this place would look like if the war never took place. This place is wild. The people are beautiful. I can safely say Cambodia has been my favorite stop of the journey so far.

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