Atap.co is an online marketplace for everything related to interior design work in Malaysia. You can find an interior designer (or several) here to renovate your perfect dream house, office, retail space or restaurant. Or if you’re an interior designer or architect, post your work here and have customers come to you.
After spending a month in London and watching my friend transform his backyard into this spectacular cozy garden with gorgeous tiles, perfectly laid grass and a deck for weekend BBQ, I have been dreaming about my own personal home projects.

While I don’t have my own garden in my too small condominium, I do have a living room that’s screaming to be renovated. It’s really a pity to leave it the way it is because my place comes with a very pretty floor-to-ceiling window and the current state of my living space just doesn’t do it justice. (Photos of my top 4 living space designs posted below)

Be warned though, looking through Atap.co will have you drool for homes that you might only be able to afford in your next life. Don’t worry; it doesn’t take away the fun of curating and envisioning the cozy apartment you could create within your budget range. As their slogan stated it aptly: don’t wait for your dream home, create it.

With 1300 listed interior designers on the site, you know you won’t run out of choices; and with more than 422k monthly users on Atap.co, you can be assured that this marketplace is legit.

How to use Atap.co

Step 1: Find Your Interior Designer  

You can do this by either browsing through projects of listed interior designers or go through their ideas page.

You can read up on expert tips to get an idea where or how to start creating your space.

Step 2: Decide on a Budget and Pick A Date

This is crucial so your ID guy know how to work around your price range and if the duration and dates you propose can be met. These data are to be filled in in Step 3.

Step 3: Request a quote

After finding your preferred interior designer, you can then click on the button on the right and request for a quotation. You will be asked a few questions like the type and size of the place you wish to renovate, the duration and date you wish to have the renovation carried out, and so on. Once done, just wait for your quotation/response (check your email).

Or if you prefer to have people come to you, then simply post a general request /lead to Atap.co. You can do this via LIVE CHAT on their homepage.


After spending two hours on the site, I have narrowed down my top 4 favourite living space designs.


 And my favourite design,

So I looked up the ID company and found that their pricing is rather reasonable (a.k.a. cheaper) compared to the other designers listed on the site.

Guess the next thing I have to do now is to request for a quotation.

As for you, have fun browsing for your perfect home.


Atap.co social media links:
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décor

Ok. Where do I even begin?

This is not your average daily encounter, definitely a first in all 15 of my travelling years.

In all honesty, have you ever really met one in your life?
Sure, I read about them in comics and maybe watched a documentary or two about it.
But I have never come across a human that would openly admit that he/she fantasises about feet.

And of all places, this incident took place in one of the most heavily guarded location in all of England: the Buckingham Palace.

It was one of those mornings where I'd spent my time going around London taking photos of iconic landmarks. This morning, I found myself setting up my tripod in front of the Buckingham Palace, patiently waiting for tourists to clear and clicking the shutter away when a balding Asian man around my age approached me.

He asked if he could conduct a survey with me and my first respond was to brush him off with a smile and went on with my photo-taking. He persisted, and insisted that it wouldn't take much of my time and it's not what I had thought.

Haven't I heard dozens of similar lines before? I did a virtual eye-roll before giving in. Maybe I'd just answer a few questions and get rid of him so I can go back to my photos. We sat down and he introduced himself, born in England to two Hong Kong parents, he did filmmaking as a hobby and he's doing a film about feet. It all started with some innocent questions like: "what do you think about feet?", "what do you think about walking barefoot in public area", "would you ever be comfortable walking barefoot in the public?", "what kind of place would you walk barefoot on?".

"Grass" I'd replied.

More questions and answers were exchanged. And when that's done, he suggested, if I was willing, that we could find a place nearby, like a park, where I could take off my shoes and lay my bare feet on the grass, and perhaps he could take some photos of my feet on the grass.

Incidentally, there's a park just across the Buckingham Palace, probably the reason why he was hunting there in the first place. He was really polite throughout the whole conversation that my danger radar just didn't go off. Now that I think back, he probably has practised this method of approach countless of times, and I could see why he chose me, seeing how I would be more receptive to his story of a creative background having come from a creative line myself.

I told him to wait till I was done with my photo session and he agreed; and boy did I take my time, I even told him he should look for someone else since I would still be occupied for a while; he insisted he would wait. It must've been more than half an hour before I wrapped things up. And off to the park we went.

We found a spot, took off my boots, and sat down on the grass as he whipped out his phone to take photos. Initially I wondered why he was using a phone instead of a proper filming equipment, that should have been a red flag, but then I remembered he did mention that this was a hobby, and I let pass.

Up untill this point, things were going fine, he finished taking his photos and showed me the photos he has taken of my feet on his phone, he even offered to show me photos of feet he has taken of other people.

Now this was where things got weird. I was still sitting on the grass with my bare feet out, and as I took his phone and starting flipping through the photos, he made the most bizarre request. He was sitting on the grass across from me, with both his hands outstretched towards one of my feet, and asked:" May I?" Suggesting he wanted to examine my foot.

I was distracted with looking at the photos that it didn't occur to me immediately how odd that request was and instinctively extended my foot out and he took it with both his hands, and started caressing my foot.

My whole body jerked stiff at this point, and before I could recover and realise what was happening, he took my other foot and started fondling that foot too! The shock was real, and I was still grasping with what was actually taking place as this guy fondled away at my foot. Foot fetish wasn't the first thing that popped into my mind at the time, but I know I was really uncomfortable and I wanted to get out there quick.

Almost immediately, while feigning nonchalance, I retracted my foot "casually" from his hands, and prepared myself to get up and wear my boots; all the while declaring that I had to get going.

When he begged me to stay for two more minutes so he could "look" at my foot; I began to panic (and yes, foot fetish was making its connection in my head). I continued to wear my boots and insisted I had to go. "2 more minutes, please, just 2 more minutes", he begged.

"I'm sorry, I had to be somewhere now"
"No, I really have to go, I want to take photos before the crowd comes in"
"Yes, I have to go now"

I persistedand finally, looking defeated, he bid his goodbye and we parted our ways.

So yea, there you have it. Having my feet fondled by a foot fetish is surely ranked 1 of the top 5 weirdest encounters in my book.

I'm usually someone who's pretty tolerant with weird things, this hasn't really shaken me other than the fact I'm really uncomfortable with the idea that this guy has photos of me in his phone. But it has broaden my view on people whom I might meet. As a measure of caution, I did request him to send me a photo he took of me from his email so at least I have a record of his email address, even if that meant I was revealing my own email address to him (my email address and FB has never been that private to begin with anyway).

And here's the photo:

When my mom passed, she left behind a set of beautiful china from Royal Albert that I have gifted her over the years. She was in love with them, but never had the heart to use it. So all these years, the pot and teacups and plates just sat in the cupboard in the boxes they came with.

Being the only female and member in the family who bothers with these stuff, naturally these things fall into my possession. They add to my collection of tea sets perfectly, next to the matcha bowls from Kyoto and tea pots from Iran; I can't help but to feel the melancholy attachment to this collection of English china. Ironically, I am also allergic to caffeine despite owning quite a large collection of tea from around the world. Sure, there are floral tea and white tea that's without caffeine, but who are we kidding, the best teas are always black tea blends (or red/green tea).

While I still enjoy my camomile every once in a while, it is a very different experience to being entitled to a wide variety of tea selection, the joy of picking a tea flavour according to your mood out of the wooden tea box, or scooping that exquisite tea blends from a luxurious tea tin while you fill your senses in the aroma as you pour hot water into the pot.

These are the experiences she never get to enjoy in her lifetime, always saving up for that special occasion. That occasion never came. And I will never have the memories of sitting down to have an afternoon cuppa with her. I try not to have regrets in life, but this, the sight of those china filled me with sorrow beyond my own comprehension. The moments I never had and will never get to have. The beautiful fantasy I crafted in my mind, how her laughter filled the air, jokes exchanged, the usual gossips, the appreciation of exotic teas in one single afternoon. I have replayed this fictional moment in my mind far more than I care to admit.

I broke down last night, in my room in London, thousand of miles away from home but I might as well be back in my childhood house and it wouldn't have been any different. It doesn't happen as frequent now, the tears and the pain, but when it does, the loneliness is insufferable. And breathing becomes an impossible task.

8 months.
It's been 8 months.

It still feels like yesterday.