I would have made a great German gentleman in the 1940s

Photos by a mysterius Greek gentleman by the name Jeorge Meisel or George Stratigis backstage at Oslo Fashion Week
See more of his things and stuff at captureandcaptivate.tumblr.com

Merry Gentlemans

I'll get my tits out for just about anyone

Photo: Guro Torget

"Man pursues black on white" Mallarmé

LAMEOGRAPHY

If this isn't inspired by the Monty Python's Flying Circus sketch Ministry of Silly Walks, I will eat several of my hats! And also, I approve. This is what I do in Athens when the weather is uncomfortably close to Norwegian and all public transport is on strike.. Look at EVERYTHING on the interwebs!

Travel tip: Don't go to Athens if you want to shop. It is like peddling in hummus through an endless sea of UGGs and Ed Hardy. Even ZARA and MANGO are broken here. I thought I would enjoy some take-advantage-of-your-crisis shopping today and all I found where shops, like the ones in Oslo, only with worse clothes. Even H&M was fashion-nonsense of disastrous proportions. Modern thinking and creator of democracy, yes. Historical, architectural and cultural magnificence, YES. One of the most picturesque cities I have ever been in, yes. But for some reason, people here dress like working-class Lithuanian hair-dressers from the mid 90s.

I tried going to the trendiest and indiest neighborhoods Gazi and Phyrri, but all their merchandise was horrible 80s vintage and the same LOMOGRAPHY non-sense as Grünerløkka.

I did however meet a impressively facial-haired male model who called himself Holy and had a pop-up vintage concept called Holy Mustache. I'm thinking of marrying him. I think he's gay, but as most gay men in Greece are closeted (!!), I'm assuming it will not be a problem.

Lastly, I choose to wear a short dress today. I shouldn't have. It got to the point of whistling and yelling of Greek things in my direction that I was afraid of being assaulted if I attempted to eat the banana I had in my canvas bag.. I have a new and fundamental respect for Greek women! Their integrity and openness does not waver even after facing a lifetime of these horny man-puppies. Has the hair bleaching that seems to be so popular here, even though it turns everyones hair orange, given them super-obnoxious-man-comment-repelling-powers?

HUZZAH

I'm off to cuddle a stray kitten!

Where's blond Siren?

I think I've had what the tweens are calling "bloggers block" lately. I'm sorry to the twelve or so people who seem to read this thing. I'm also under the growing impression that blogging is for a younger crowd of exhibitionist youths whom have perfected the art of the "fish-lips" in photos taken by themselves or boyfriends (gay, but won't admit it yet).

But, I digress. I find that I impress myself with my ability to digress before I've started writing an actual post. I think this is an ominous trend if I hope to one day become an author of works not exclusively read online, by my friends. The stream of consciousness writing has been done before, and done quite well..

I found some pictures of myself saved on my user in the University of Oslo computer system. I don't remember saving them or where I found them, but I'm blond and wearing a gold mask, so who cares. They are hilarious in a serial-killer sort of way. If there where children in the audience at Mote med Mening 2011 I can only assume we've scared them away from a life of fashion with this display of nightmare aesthetics. Not to mention the horrifying Portishead remix in the background as we walked!

Rehearsal, I choose to wear my mask here as well, the reason being that otherwise the cameras in the area might catch my horrid alibino'ness.

I should also admit that I'm only writing this post because I've been sick and stuck at home for three days (!!) and have to papers to write for my Uni. courses. As you probably know, I am a professional procrastinator! Off I fly, to once again check facebook, maybe tweet a little and clean EVERYTHING, before staring blankly at my computer screen where my assignments will glow in it's abjectly curricular way.

Hare Krishna

Siren

Deflowering Botanical Gardens

I had a great shoot in Oslo Botanical Gardens last week. A talented young lady sent me her idea and a request for me to model for her via facebook. I couldn't see the connection between her and me, and frankly, I'm great at facebook-stalking out any information about someone that I might need. I immediately liked the (lady)balls on this young woman and agreed. Why say no, really? Either I get some good shots or I can forget about the ordeal immediately after and giggle at the horrendous pictures when/if they are sent to me. I've had a few iffy experiences (one with stuffed Angry-Birds and early 2000s "vintage" comes to mind..) but they usually can't be bothered sending me any photos anyway

She asked me to come without makeup, wearing high-waisted shorts and that the idea for the shoot was heroin-chic. Some might think heroin-chic to be something other than a compliment on ones appearance, but for a skinny, pasty, boy-girl like me it was what I assume Christmas feels like for spoiled children in the American mid-west!

I was in and out of there in under an hour. Guro gave up all control of me and let me do my best Jack Duluoz (Pseudonym for Jack Kerouac in Vanity of Duluoz) if he where stuck on an island with nothing but his precious drugs for company; and nothing to write on!
I should think it would lead to a similar delusion of grandeur as felt by me yesterday when I was the only short-haired and boob-less girl at the casting for Oslo Fashion Week. I though: "They have to pick me, I'm special." Although I doubt that was what the casting people thought. I should expect my glow of confidence translated to a malevolent glitter of douchebaggery.

(Photo: Guro Torget. No make-up, styled by Guro)

After I had been in the casting I suddenly found several more short-haired girls waiting to go in and shatter my only castable advantage and as I talked to one of them, she told me she was on the cover of this seasons OFW magazine! I would be jealous, if she weren't so stunningly beautiful.

Hare Krishna

Slow-motion exile

I'm bored and uninspired. I stayed in bed all day intermittently reading chapters from Menneskehavn, I'll Never Get Out of This World Alive and Biografi, Dagbok, Brev to make up for the amount of crying I did while watching the new Harry Potter at the cinema last night. I think my goal has been met now that my eyes hurt equally, from reading, to last nights post-movie bleary-eyed state.

(Photo: Lars Venner)

Slept away my Saturday

(Photo and styling: Anne-Grethe Ulriksen)

This is how I relax while listening to some awesome tunes. I look relaxed right? No-neck and squinting is always a sign of contentment and relief...

I just realized I have slept away my Saturday night so I thought posting this might make me seem at least slightly cooler than the girl who stayed in and fell asleep with a Jack Kerouac book on my face. He would not be proud! He would also be proud of the almost-rhyming title to this post (written in sarcastica). Maybe I should just get out of the house, find a bar and seek out a penniless jazz-musician too fill my time with. He would play for me and I'd in return let him sleep on me and buy him his drugs. I don't know what's going on in my head right now, but it's making me uneasy. I blame it on the three hour nap I just had and the residual effects of my ten days of alcoholism and drug-induced paranoia.

Tonights level of coolness holds a close paralleled to the cracka'ness I felt at Roskilde Festival whilst I was busting some serious moves to the Big Boi and Odd Future Wolf Gang Kill Them All (you know, Tyler the Creators crew) concerts.

I guess I could heighten my proud ridiculousness by pointing out that I felt so strongly that my hair was unsightly when I got back from the festival that I coloured my hair dark, got out a pair of scissors from the kitchen and once again tried to cut my own hair. This time at the back, without a mirror or any other way of seeing what I was doing, obviously. As I did it I thought to myself that this is not something people do. My hair is short. Your going to be able to notice my shoddy (hair)craftsmanship!

It's a good thing now then, that I so often and stylishly wear hats:
(Roskilde 2011)

Adieu

Festival Check-list: Roskilde

I'm leaving nothing to chance at this seasons Roskilde Festival!
1. Tent w/ tarpaulin
2. Sleeping bag and pillow
3. Mattress

4. Denim and Black Shorts
5. Tops
6. Jeans
7. Wool jumper
8. Wool underwear
9. Cardigan
10. Converse All Stars
11. Sweater
12. Tights
13. Summer dresses
14. Big floppy hat
15. Cheap sunglasses x3


16. Big shoulder bag
17. Fanny pack
18. Bikini
19. Bras and panties
20. So many pairs of socks

21. Toothbrush and toothpaste
22. Deodorant


23. Sunscreen and sunblock
24. Moisturizer for face, body and hands (with sunscreen)

25. Wellingtons
26. Raincoat and pants
27. Sydvest (rain...hat..?)

28. "Vintage" mobile phone and charger
29. Towel
30. Blanket

31. Dry shampoo
32. Painkillers
33. Insect spray
34. Soap shampoo

35. Scarf
36. Leather jacket

37. Q-tips
38. Band-aid
39. Disposable cameras
40. Antibac
41. Contraceptives
42. Mirror
43. Books
44. Wipes/Tissues
45. Lighter
46. ID, Passport, cash/cards, tickets
I'll be at Roskilde with my gorgeous Radio Nova FM 99,3 crew! I hope to see you there!

Hare Krishna

Boob(s) O'Hoy

(Lars Venner)

That is all!

Bored, bored, bored

I want to (evilly) stop, and smell the flowers/eat the flowers/branch in an unfamiliar place.
Meander about in an unfamiliar city and show off my lovely bones in the sun. Wear white backless dresses, underwear be damned, boobs o-hoy!

(Photos: Lars Venner)

I hate the life of a pasty indoors-man. Drinking coffee to stay awake, instead of enjoying every sip. Analyzing the art I used to love, like an owl would devour its pray: whole and just spitting out the bones.

(Photo: Simen? I don't remember. Please tell me if you know)

I need something new and somewhere new!

SHUGO SHUGO and FAKSIMILE.NO

(Photo: Mari Torvanger Knap/Oslo Nights)

I think easter came a week early for me. I threw my bachelor to the wind after writing the same paragraph for about 1500 words and leap into a world of long walks by the river and frolicking in the wilderness of music and fashion.

About a year and a half ago I saw an amazing Japanese music act at Landmark in Bergen. A stage for new media and cultural expression. It was a date with a guy who turned out to be a bit of a tool, but regardless it is one of the best concerts I've been to! Last Tuesday I finally got to see my Japanese hero of the ukulele again: Shugo Tokumaru played John Dee in Oslo. My friend D-bag was supposed to come with me, but fucked off at the last minute. I thought: "this must be a good sign, if a dude turns into a tool for the evening the concert will once again be great!" It was!



(via 2ingvild)

But I would not leave my week at that. I had an entire easter of family fun/boredom ahead of me! I decided to put on my trendiest socks and go to a blogparty. I feel it might verge on black hole creation if I blog to much about another blog and the party that blog hosted... But as a true Norwegian, I would go to the opening of a Bunnpris if there was free alcohol, but since this is fashion-related and blogrelated there is photographic evidence of my presence!





It was a great party until the alcohol ran out, but there where some interesting characters there with coked up noses whom would touch you inappropriately and tell you the most random fun facts. An example being a women only slightly older than me whom, in a stiletto dance of fashionable hair flowing to the rhythm of the bass spewed by the celebrity DJ and with her long skirt and haut cuture face; while touching my trench coat said: "I'm so old that I remember this from the first time it was in."
All I could do was look back at the fashionable woman with a crooked smile and say "O.K" while secretely thinking, "who is this goddess of time? Has she seen the world of old Hollywood, where Audrey Hepburn stands in the rain in 1961, her trench coat soaked, waiting for her man?" or "is she slightly older than me and remembers seeing a trench coat of similar color in a early episode of Friends?
The strange womans fashionable superiority was lost on me either way and I could not love my coat more!

(Photos: Solveig Selj)

Hare Krishna