My Bloggy Wog

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

2011-12-23T17:36:00.006+01:00

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

2011-11-30T17:59:00.004+01:00

Photo: Guro Torget

"Man pursues black on white" Mallarmé

LAMEOGRAPHY

2011-10-13T23:21:00.004+02:00

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?

2011-09-21T17:26:00.007+02:00

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

2011-08-01T20:12:00.004+02:00

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

2011-07-19T22:54:00.000+02:00

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

2011-07-09T23:07:00.004+02:00

(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

2011-06-20T20:06:00.013+02:00

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

2011-05-28T23:49:00.004+02:00

(Lars Venner)

That is all!

Bored, bored, bored

2011-05-25T22:35:00.005+02:00

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

2011-04-17T16:57:00.007+02:00

(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

I can't sleep, I can't sleep...

2011-04-11T05:14:00.007+02:00

...I can't sleep, I can't sleep, I can't sleep!

This happens every Sunday-Monday of every week! I have the sleep pattern of a bat during the weekend and end up with a headache and insomnia during the glorious weekend night which turns to week at a painfully slow rate while I fill my knowledge-gap with downloaded ridiculousness like documentaries about the inner workings of the dog brain. Sadly, there are not enough rage-comics too keep me occupied until a morning which, yet again, holds another day of explaining why I haven't gotten further on my bachelor degree paper (pure laziness and dogumentaries).
Sunday

I drag my pale, bruised and dehydrated soul out of bed on Sunday afternoons, let the feeling of accomplishment from the weekend wash over me in a collage of awkward phrasing and scattered images of horrid dance-moves. I get dressed in a confused mix of patterns and fabrics, let my face breathe without the confides of make-up and waddle out the door to greet the day (usually forgetting either my phone, wallet or keys; sometimes, all of the above)
It's the worst thing a person in a delicate state can do on a Sunday, be outdoors.

I'm immediately met by bright-eyed children, bumping in to my legs, screaming fearlessly at cute animals and inadvertently grabbing my clammy hand thinking I'm mom. Parents beaming at them whilst suspiciously measuring the creepiness of my dark sunglasses against the apparent lack of muscle. They soon forget me as the child moves away and I disappear behind the nearest lamppost.. Yeah, I'm skinny like that!

I stroll by the river while gossip from the weekends frivolities fill my phone until I have the honour of telling a complete stranger that her dress has made it's way from covering her bottom, to being part of the inside of her purse.

A good deed has been done, and I can safely go home to take a nap. After a disastrous two hour nap I awake, the sun has vanished and it leaves me with nap-induced confusion and hunger until I can fall asleep again. I can fall asleep again at about now, 6am. If I do, this day will be repeated tomorrow!

The horror! I write to you, to stay awake whilst contemplating how horrible tomorrow will be!

Hare Krishna

Siren

A salute to bartenders

2011-02-24T22:40:00.006+01:00

I salute you bartenders and barmaids alike and apologize to every person whom make their livings by, in some way, being sober around drunk people. The level of ridicolous behaviour on a drunken humanity can be measured in the same category as ridiculous face-painting that goes on during international sporting events. I say humanity, but after phenomenons like Paradise Hotel and Bartenderskolen I imagine a wholly different scenario if the drunk people in question where French or Spanish.I was a barmaid for about 10-12 hours one night of the Norwegian music-festival By:Larm. During which I contemplated both suicide and homicide. People started off nice enough. Complimenting my fanny-pack and asking inane questions about drinkprices and directions to toilets. Information which they could have gotten on their own if they chose to use their eyes for other than sexual partner-detectors and as douche, plastic and useless eye-wear background.

After a few concerts people grew restless in the lines. Their faces growing ever sweatier as the dancing, dehydration and alcohol took hold. The compliments towards my fanny-pack or lesbian hair-style became more frequent, paralleled with a loss of motor skills which inevitably lead to them spitting on me as they spoke. People kept coming back to me after hours expecting me to remember that "a nod and a wink" ment India Pale Ale or Gin and Tonic.

A young man bought a beer and felt the need to take my picture with his phone as he did so. Like a domestic cat would proudly present you with its latest small and furry animal victim, the man presented me with the picture every time he bought another beer. I wanted to as: "what do you expect me to do with the fact that a complete stranger has a picture of me on his phone?" but I just smiled politely and discretely shoved the tip-jar closer to him.

Another man presented me with a CD as tip for my services as a giver of beer. I am now the prowd owner of a CD by the hip-hop group Envy. I thought it was quite presumptuous of him to think I like hip-hop. I don't particularly look like a hip-hopper and move to the music about as smoothly and rhythmically as deaf person with vertigo.

The scream-spitting inane questions became worse as the night grew darker. Every sweaty-drunken female became living proof of Alice Coopers sense of style as their copious amounts of make-up painted their faces with the movement of the sweat.

A group of men thought it wise to grab my attention by bending down so far that only their heads where above the bar. I, once again, smiled politely and gave them their beers. The group luckily scattered from lack of attention except one rather dashing tall, dark-haired man. I thought this might be the handsomest man I've seen in weeks, and he's talking to me! Then I realized that his beer-goggles where as think as bottle-caps as he smiled, slurred his words and was quite unsteady.Last but not least a Spanish-speaking gentlemen between the age of 50-60 years old, came to the bar and bought a beer. I made the mistake of smiling at him and therefore had him staring, winking and muttering Spanish at me for about twenty minutes.

I ask you bartenders: How do you do this on a regular basis? Is it really worth the tips? Is that where the widespread alcoholism among bartenders stems from?

By Joab, I shall never again be THAT person of the many I listed above and I praise bartenders everywhere.

Hare Krishna

Siren

A little tid-bit about God

2011-01-22T19:35:00.007+01:00

An actual anti-atheism billboard in the US... I there fore pledge my allegiance to atheism and if God gives a shit I'll let that poster come true!

I refer you to Ricky Gervais "Why I'm an atheist" released for Christmas 2010:
I know faith exists. I see it all the time. But believing in something doesn’t make it true. Hoping that something is true doesn’t make it true. The existence of God is not subjective. He either exists or he doesn’t. It’s not a matter of opinion. You can have your own opinions. But you can’t have your own facts.

Why don’t I believe in God? No, no no, why do YOU believe in God? Surely the burden of proof is on the believer. You started all this. If I came up to you and said, “Why don’t you believe I can fly?” You’d say, “Why would I?” I’d reply, “Because it’s a matter of faith.” If I then said, “Prove I can’t fly. Prove I can’t fly see, see, you can’t prove it can you?” You’d probably either walk away, call security or throw me out of the window and shout, ‘’F—ing fly then you lunatic.”

(reddit.com)

Please read the rest of his holiday message here.

Hare Krishna (yes, I get how this is ironic now)

Siren

Off to a flying start

2011-01-03T15:18:00.006+01:00

After refusing to have anything to do with the University of Oslo all Christmas I didn't realize how long my vacation actually is until yesterday. My first class starts the 17th of January; how ridiculous is that? After torturing me with exams until less that a week from Christmas Eve they're now forcing me to do something stupid, first thing in the new year, with all this free time!
Whilst on the topic of stupidity, I, being an easily depressed and somewhat spontaneous reactionary person had the honor of watching myself, like a fly on the wall with no say in my own actions, step into the new year by being bitchy to my "diddle-buddy" our last moments together before he fucks off to conquer the Americas and forge for academic gold in the vast hills of California; and later that day I would buy a weekend trip to Barcelona out of the blue.Granted the trip to Barcelona, with a certain blond bombshell, will be awesome, but I still feel like some intence therapy is in order, or at least some New Years Resolutions! (Especially after I managed to convince myself I actually looked like Hitler after dressing up like him on Halloween and ending up cutting my hair in yet another twelve-year old boy/nineties flat-chested chick from Baywatch sort of way in Bergen at the end of 2010; I'd show you a picture, but my current hair has been through both sleep and sex, so it is really not fit for viewing)
Resolutions

Try being being a little bit less of a bitch in emotional and stressful situations
Stop being Eyjafjellajøkul of grumpiness in the morning
Buy no more than one pair of shoes a month
Stop being so easy to steal from
Start using the kitchen for more than storage-space
Start doing Yoga, no matter how embarrassingly stiff I inevitably will be in the beginning
Read more non-curriculum
Finish Bachelors Degree
Write more
Eat healthier and more
Work out more
Get over fear of old people, babies and short people
Write angry letter about TV2bliss or change gender
Be more approachable
BLOGG MORE

That's a start isn't it? I won't say anything about my reckless drinking and what inevitably goes with it because we are young and I refuse to take life too seriously at this stage!

Hare Krishna

Siren

Winter wonderland be damned

2010-11-28T20:06:00.003+01:00

Winter wonderland Oslo may not be. The first snowstorm has made this vibrant city into a former Soviet republic in the late 80s and I don't care for it. I'm to thin for below zero temperatures and wind might easily knock me over.
Not to mention that since I'm no longer living in horrifying yet exquisite solitude, in a government owned silo, I now must overcome my hatred of other people and their habits and individual gross'ity.
As today when I, as the only un-hungover person (in the world probably), had to endure the smell of hungover men. I cannot elaborate on the unfathomable smell, because writing the words to describe it would make me vomit and reading them them would undoubtedly make you vomit especially in your, presumably, fragile state.
To escape the horrid smell of my disgusting roommates whom vomit in their rooms, climb in windows and bleed copiously while at it, I would have had to climb inside a large animal of some sort to keep warm.
Luckily I'll have to spend the next three-four days indoors in lukewarm libraries, if I can get up in the ungodly enough hour to get a seat at a Stalinesq desk and an uncomfortable and often broken chair in a leaky library called Sophus Bugge, writing to home-exams.
Ah, what doesn't one do for a completely useless Bachelors degree?
So, let it snow, let it snow, let it FUCKING snow!

Hare Krishna

Siren

Apartement Family!

2010-10-10T01:36:00.004+02:00

These are my family of lovely freaks in Toftes gate. They need no words!

Night Krishna

Belle and Sebastian TV

2010-10-03T02:21:00.001+02:00

(Via Poplogg)

I almost thought the world would end in a melted heap of floating ancient corpses in an endless sea of our own creation without more Belle & Sebastian, but thankfully they are back with this(as seen above):

This is the first in series of transmissions of varying sizes and shapes from Belle and Sebastian to mark the impending release of their eighth album, Belle and Sebastian Write About Love.

The first episode of Belle and Sebastian TV is a fully realized, half-hour mixture of music, chat and revealing (and not so revealing) insights from the band filmed in Glasgow over the last few weeks.

Presented by Dougie Anderson and produced by Forest of Black, it features performances of two of the songs from the album: I Want The World to Stop and I Didn't See It Coming.

I can not wait for their eighth studio album that will be out in the UK on October 11th. I have a date with their web shop that day LET ME TELL YA!

Hare Krishna

Summerbreeze (photoshoot)

2010-09-13T22:36:00.000+02:00

Photo: Solveig Selj

Black and white (photo shoot)

2010-09-05T23:08:00.001+02:00

Photo: Anette Schive

MEEEEEEEEEEE in the woods (photo shoot)

2010-09-03T19:56:00.003+02:00

Aaaaaaand

Foto: Anette Schive

Hare Krishna

Fall is a beautifull bitch

2010-08-31T23:54:00.005+02:00

From the datemark on my last post i suddenly realized that it's been an entire month since I've posted anything on my beloved blog. It must have been August madness. The last month of sun, warm weather, lounging in the park and sadly, clear skin. I can only assume my body will start punishing me for insisting on living in this cold polluted bumpy hole of a city another winter. Don't get me wrong, I love Oslo like an ugly loin-spawn, but that is not because of the architecture, useless study it lured me into or thriving exhaust fumes; no, it is purely because it is the biggest city in Norway and as we all know and and I wholeheartedly preach It's the size of the boat AND the motion of the ocean. Things happen here, consumerism has a legitimate reason to cause me monetary and spacial problems here and the people who eat all my cheese live here... Man, I hate people who ate my cheese, but love and hate sown together by the retarded cripple who happens to be pumping my blood are apparently my bliss. I love my ugly bastard city. I Would prefer to mould my Bergen and Oslo together in to a symphony of mountains, clubs, concerts and walking distance, but no such luck. When I become ruler of the world, by way of marrying Arnold Schwarzenegger's Chinese cousin, I shall mold the two together!

Since fall is approaching and my limbs are screaming from cold I vow to blog the warmth back into my belly like a shot of tequila. I will rot in-front of my 2002 lap-top for your amusement whilst trinking tee and watching (I mean masturbating) to episodes of True blood. It will be gritty and horrifying and you should thank you deity of choice that I do not have a webcam!
Let us now put on Arcade Fire - The suburb and let another fall wash over us it's massive wave of ice cold beauty.

Hare Krishna

TerryTerryTerry

2010-08-01T15:36:00.006+02:00

The magical Terry Richardson; one of my favorite photographers.

No more words needed

Hare Krishna

Siren

Nothing With a Face or a Mother!

2010-07-19T16:05:00.003+02:00

This is the full "last supper" image and my T-Shirt says "Nothing With a Face or a Mother." This is a movement for global vegetarianism, apparently. I don't know if I like the idea of forced or coerced vegetarianism, but since I'm already one I approve this message that also has my face on it.

P.S: I'm looking at Jesus bum... His sheet kept sliding off! *Giggle*

Here is a link to the collection called Place in the Sun. Finally up and running! Get ready for cheeeslovers world domination!

Hare Krishna

First Look at The Last Supper co-starring ME!

2010-07-16T19:33:00.005+02:00

I know this is starting to look more and more like a boring Charlotte Thorstvedt-like "look-at-me-I'm-so-cool-for nothing" diary, but bare with me; I don't have anything interesting to say so write about myself. Maybe I should start writing in third person as to not sound like such a douch. We'll have to see what the future holds...!

Back to look-at-me'ness:

About two months ago I did a photo shoot with Kevin Azzopardi from Sum of Itself, but because I'm a complete dumbass, I don't know how to download the actual photos, but for now this is the cropped close-up of me (that Julie from my agency put out on my page) and "evil-waiter-Judas" in our pro-animal rights ad-vertorial. The T-Shirt I'm wearing says something clever about being a vegetarian and will be sold somewhere on the internet pretty darn soon.
More to come,hopefully, when I figure out the internet...

Hare Krishna

4th of July

2010-07-04T22:51:00.004+02:00

I know we haven't allways seen eye to eye, but you did let me live in you for a year and I grew to love you and all the awesome that can be destilled from your unapologetic and generally hatefully crafted diverse pile of crazy!

Hare Krishna

Siren

We go together like the internet and kiddie-porn

2010-07-01T19:45:00.006+02:00

After the magnificent Devendra Banhart concert last night I realized I had forgotten my phone and therefor went home instead of meeting up with the NOFX posse I live with and pretty much instantly fell asleep. At about 3am I woke up and there was (of course) a nachspiele going on in the apartment, as is our newfound tradition. I couldn't be bothered with socializing at that point so I tried going back to sleep, but about ten minutes later some creepy stranger opens my door, I sit up puzzled and desperately wishing I owned pepper-spray.
"I'm here for the nachspiele" Sounding ALOT like the start of a porn movie.
"Ok, well as you can see it's not happening in here..."
"Eh, who are you?"
"I live here." Meaning: Get the fuck out!
"Eh, oooookaaaay" Lingering as if he thought I was the house sex-kitten, ready to welcome him to the nachspiele with some naked fun-times...
"Nachspiele is downstairs!"
"Oh, well have fun here"

Needless to say, I immediately started locking the door.

Hare Krishna

Siren

I need you like a nun needs cock!

2010-06-30T18:00:00.004+02:00

The day is finally here; I'ts time for Devendra Banhart at Rockefeller! MY GOD I LOVE A BEARDED MAN! I've started drinking and this night is going to be aaaaaaaaaaaaawesome!

"Baby"

"Feel just like a child"

See you after this epic concert.

Hare Krishna

Siren

Bus Pick-Me-Up!

2010-06-29T21:27:00.009+02:00

As I'm feeling the dreadful summer-depression devouring more and more of my soul as the summer grows hotter and darker, work is nowhere to be seen except on the odd weekend when I desperately want to socialize with the jobs galore fuckers that I know (I love you, I don't mean it, well I kind of do, I hate you all, fuck you all, WHERE IS MY VALIUM?) here in Oslo; I've started cherishing the little things in life (and of course violently mocking my fuck-buddy and treating him like crap over the weekend even though I actually rather like him...), like what happened on the bus today.
As I was on the bus trying to look inconspicuous and like any other ticketholding passenger, staring intently out the window with sunglasses on and with my music on full blast whilst gritting my teeth, a stunningly gorgeous man in his mid-twenties with a scruffy afternoon shadow sat down next to me. I was taking the bus all the way from Skøyen so when we hit Jernbanetorrget, we had been sitting together for a while. Suddenly he turned to me, touched my arm and said:

In Swedish "Hey, you have really gorgeous hair."
Turning away from the window and picking my music out of my ears "Sorry, what?"
"You have really gorgeous hair, is it colored or natural?"
Puzzled "Somewhere in between I think.."
"It's pretty, so what do you do?"
And from there it went on. He was charming and I was reluctant until the bus his Hausmanns gate where he said he had to get off at the next stop.
"Would you like to go get some ice cream or something sometime?"
Needless to say I was still confused at the situation of being hit on in a bus, by this incredibly hot (I can only assume "party-) swede," but I was so lost in his hotness and impressed by a man who hits on a girl whose headphones blare with music and whom stares intensely out a window blatantly pretending he doesn't exist that I actually said yes and gave him my REAL number. I doubt I'll text him back if he actually tries to contact me, but it was a nice ego-boost for me, and let's be honest, it probably was for him too.

Here's to party-swedes with too much confidence and slightly sub-par social antennae!

Hot-N-Fun, this song is about them:

Hare Krishna

Siren

Where's Waldo?

2010-06-14T14:03:00.005+02:00

One, such as me, might not realize how small my beautiful Oslo actually is. My even more stunning, Bergen (Where I come from) is just a pimple of beauty in an already acned face. Norway in other words, is gorgeous! It is however very small with some green but mostly blue and is mostly unpopulated; much like planet earth in the inconceivably large solar system. I'll call Norway the planet earth of the planet earth.

How did I get to this realization you ask? Photo/fashion-bloggers naturally. We've all heard of FACEHUNTER running around the big cities like New York and Paris taking incredible pictures of stunning ladies with incredible style. One photo by THE COBRASNAKE in a party in LA or New York could make your career if your anything along the lines of model, actress, singer, designer or stylist. In Oslo, what happens is that some kind of second rate photographer (in my case, a girl that also spends her days working at Monki, Bik Bok or something) takes a photo of you at EVERY party for the pleasure of absolutely no one except yourself...

How do I know Oslo is a small city trying so hard to catch up with older brothers Stockholm and Copenhagen? I'm the Waldo of Where's Waldo at the parties of Oslo...

(Photos: Martin Johansen for SMUG)

(Photo: Oslo Nights)

(Photo: Mia from MIAMARIONETTE)

I'm being slightly hipocrytical now thought, because naturally I like having my picture taken, but it is funny that I keep popping up everywhere even though I'm just an overly douchy aesthetics student, part-time model and soon to be barista; and there's more streetstyle to come!

Hare Krishna

Siren

Weekday/Monki Opening Party

2010-05-21T22:04:00.003+02:00

(Oslo Nights)

After a hard day of studying for my exams yesterday, I went for a walk and met up with Karoline to nip in to the Store Opening event for Weekday/Monki. Sadly Karoline hadn't registered right or something ridiculous like that and I had to go in alone. I felt the air thick with Agyness-2007-haircuts, moldy vintage and ce-blog-lebrities. After seven girls wearing my brown Topshop shoes and about ten minutes in the store Hannah on stopover from Iceland to Bergen grabbed my arm and said "hey." I was stunned and pleased at the outcome. We had copius amounts of the free beer and wine. Made fun of the dancers . I mingled and met lots of interesting people and got the biggest ego-boosts from being taken pictures of by bloggers.

Last but not least, I met Alexander. The only one fashion conscious enough to comment on my trendy socks-in-sandals look for the night! He's my new hero!

Hare Krishna

Sunny outrage!

2010-05-19T18:48:00.003+02:00

First of all, why in the world can anyone hunker down their buttocks on uncomfortable chairs in stuffy asbestos-covered shitholes like Sophus Bugges on a day like this? Is it the incessant clickety-clack of the girl in high heels going outside ta talk on the phone every twenty minutes or perhaps the feel of other people stress-levels reaching that of cold-sweats and frantic note-deciphering too?

I slept in, had a nice breakfast, realized it was already 11 o'clock and that there was no chance in hell I would be able to find a seat at Blindern; but instead of freaking out, I just packed my backpack full of fruit, a thermos and some sandwiches and went a-wanderin' with my head held high and a backpack stuffet with curriculum. It was awesome! It was Kubaparken! I was in the sun, laying down on my blanket with the smell of newly mowed grass intoxicating my nostrils with sneezy joy.

Not even the communist jibberish of Jean-Luc Nancy could get me down. Every time during his text that I felt like burning the book and hunting down him and his family for wasting my time so arrogantly, I just turned around on my planket, felt the warm sun on my face and closed my eyes for a few minutes. The sun drained my hatred and filled it with contentment.

The only downer of the day was right before I left, when a party-swede couple laid down quite close to me and fell asleep with ENERGY radio station blaring from their phone/speaker. (Rhiannas new song sucks...)

But now my cheeks are glowing pink and evermore freckly and have actually read something pertaining to my exam for once. Hopefully I will not have to set foot in any of those baltic airport looking libraries before exams, if the weather holds up!

Hare Krishna

17 Mai, the roof and the horror of a floating bunny head

2010-05-18T22:20:00.014+02:00

This year I started a new tradition of refusing to go anywhere near Karl Johan and all the traditional festivities of the 17th of Mai. I think that was one of the best ideas I've had this year. I slept in, had a nice breakfast and eventually meandered over to the Sofienberg park about five-hundred meters to my left, had my first beer, went to Kuba parken (literally, right outside my window) for some more parkly fun in the semi-sun and when that was all over I brought my friends (new and old) to the magical roof!
Where you find the prettiest little hippies!
Romance of the gorgeous people kind
Magnificent vintage
Oslo at your feet
The highest place you might find yourself peeing at some point
Horrifying floating decapitated cartoon bunnies
Where the play-fighting might take an unexpected turn for the awkward
Blondie never won
Someone might even get their manly earrings ripped out, but theres always a pretty girl to make you feel better

When the alcoholic stimuli has been devoured you pack your essentials and head to Mir (also about five-hundred meters to my left)
Where you give someone the eye and then get hit on and yelled at by old drunks
and loan your bed to a girl with the prettiest eyes you've ever seen!
I will never again have a stressful 17th of May. I will dress up like a pirate, drink like I've forgotten about life, exams and papers and fall in love with Oslo some more!

Hare Krishna

singlenesss

2010-05-13T20:38:00.004+02:00

Man oh man-OH-MAN JIAHE

Smoking makes you thinner kids and fashion is for shallow fuckers like me!

2010-05-13T16:16:00.007+02:00

Vanessa Bruno Spring/Summer 2010 from viacomit on Vimeo.

THIS is the kind of thing I would love to do before I have to retire from modeling (25) or if that doesn't happen, as an actress before I there die of old age (41)...

I would also like someone to find me interesting enough to come to my house and take semi-candid shots of me in my weird thrifted clothes from around Oslo and the world that I will never have the heart to throw away...

I would also like to own a collection of freaky gigantic stuffed-animals heads (no real ones, HORRIFYING!)
And like Erin Wasson here shows us, smoking looks good when you look good. I kind of want a cigarette. I keep saying "I only smoke when I drink," but it so happens that I drink quite a bit and therefore almost smoke regularly. What do I do then? Well, I'll do what the kids do and listen to the advise of The Flintstones:
God bless the 50s, God bless America and the ass-aches they keep putting themselves trough!

Hare Krishna

What WHAT?! It's me by Anja Amundsen!

2010-05-07T19:33:00.002+02:00

This is the result of me modeling for lovely Anja Amundsen, styled by Trine Juliane Grabo and make-up'ed by some goth chick from Niss (She was awesome too, but my goldfish brain could only withstand the pressure of learning two names and simply blacked out when she told me hers...)

I like them. I'm supposed to be a superblogger, but I'm not sure if that translates very well, but who gives a flying pancake when I di not completely stuff up my first photoshoot!

I'm proud!

Hare Krishna

Siren

Beyonce's got ass

2010-05-04T22:13:00.003+02:00

"Why Don't You Love Me" - Beyoncé from Beyoncé on Vimeo.

I am in no way Beyonce's biggest fan; but man oh man, is there any way not to look like a hairy turd next to this stunning piece of woman?! I have a secret dream of someday having the curves to pull the look in her new video off, although I know for a fact that when I gain weight it does not make me look move curvaceous, just plain broader. Lucky me ay?

Why don't we love you Beyonce? Look at yourself woman, your an abomination of hotness!

Hare Krishna

Brarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

2010-05-02T23:53:00.003+02:00

T by Alexander Wang bras

I've been away in Australia and Singapore lately and have neglected my bloggily duties and since I'm a lacy bastard with a very short attention span you'll have to wait a while for me to dig through the muck of images I have gathered from the trip. Anyway, I had some friends over for lunch today and as body image impaired folk per usual, we meandered upon the subject of boobies and boobie-size. As I have little to no boobs,the bras seen above are exclusively the style I wear and they are AWESOME, aren't they. My boobs yelp for pleasure at the thought of them. It's really either throwing obscene amounts of money at Alexander Wang or jumping right on over to freeing them from enclosure Hippy-style.

I have to start fixing my qualificatory paper for EST2000 now, which is a gigantic pain in buh-bom-pah-bum so I say welcome back to myself. Pat myself on the back for blogging again and leave you with a heartfelt angry dance:

Hare Krishna

Siren

The inside of my head

2010-05-02T23:49:00.001+02:00

Mareunrol's Nightmares from Valdis Celmins on Vimeo.

I love this. I love creative people. I hate creative people. LET ME BE ONE OF YOU!

Ice flow, nowhere to go?

2010-03-14T17:55:00.007+01:00

I'm little Johnny frostbite, but I'm about to do the only thing to escape the freeze: Go to Australia and Singapore! Five weeks of unlimited bliss. Owl-boy even got me a ticket to see The Go! Team. I do however have to get rid of my fear of babies to do my auntly duties in Australia. I tried watching cute baby-videos on youtube, but that just freaked me out and made me feel like a child-stalking pedophile. I'm not confident, but hopeful that I will end up the official living baby monitor for the red-headed bundle of joy and not be afraid to touch her little babyness. It will be green, warm and I will be scantly clothed!

My flight leaves at 0630AM tomorrow morning; wish me luck and a steady airplane with a sober pilot! And wish me the sun!

Hare Krishna

The Tale of the Crazy Phone Lady

2010-03-12T00:11:00.005+01:00

What just happened? How? Where was the logic? Has she not understood the basic function of a mobile phone?

As I write this in my qute little red notebook I'm sitting in Gardermoen Airport, Oslo. I had to write it in the moment, stream of consciousness-like, since it really is not something you see every day.

I'm sitting in the airport, minding my own business, listening to music and reading a book; when I, through my music(!) heard a dialog going on right next to me between a lady and her phone. She was sitting all by her lonesome, on the bench, right next to me, speaking to someone on her phone.
Normal you say?
Indeed, except that she is completely alone and still has her friend on speakerphone. She is loud and her friend on the ther end of the line is equally loud and blissfully unawhare that her friend has put her on speaker....

I'm just waiting for them to stray from their current "How's work?" kind of polite conversation and start speaking in detail about their lovelife; they are clearly friends, so why wouldn't they, or at least the one sitting at home feeling secure in her privacy whilst not knowing shes on the phone in front of the whole gate 28. Apparently Crazy Phone Ladys daughters has got worms in her stomach and is feeling ill. Her kids like to snowboard, except Florian of course (why is that "of course"? I'm sickly curious) The lady on the other end of the line is Sara. Sara is starting a blog about her skiing vacation this Easter. I can't help but wonder what kind of person Sara is, if I can find her blog and if she has any idea that she's on speaker.

Damn, they just ended the call. Crazy Phone Lady got a book out of her bag. I wonder if she'll start reading it out loud to no one in particular...? No, never mind, she read about a sentence, put it back in her bag and got going. I should think she whent to the bathroom to look at her own reflection, because that's the only thing such a self-involved person could possibly care to do when the Gate 28ts full attention no longer is on her!

Hare-What. The. Hell.

Siren

BEWARE: NUDITY

2010-03-07T18:07:00.005+01:00

One of the most famous "super" models of the moment is without a doubt danish Freja Beha Erichsen, but she also holds a very special place in my heart because she has the exact same body-type as me. She pretty much looks like a boy, as do I. So if you ever wondered what I look like naked, here you are (although I think my breasts, at least the left one... might just be a little bigger). Just slap on a picture of my face on this body and you've got me. I wish I had her sence of cool tatoos though, shes got some wicked ones!

Sadly I don't remember what magazine this editorial is from but she, as all famous people has a website for more tatooed skinnyness.

Hare Krishna

Siren

Pictures of the magical me!

2010-03-07T17:34:00.006+01:00

Oh sweet internet, has it been that long? I have been internet-less for almost a week today; it stopped working last Monday whilst I was in the midst of a week of two papers due at university. It was as is God was punishing me for being one of the lucky...well, many able to see Alice in Wonderland before its premier. Therefore I am now sitting in a beer/rave drenched computer room at the student radio craphole where I work (at least I don't need to wear make-up here, because I'm not here nearly enough for anyone to recognize me).

This is all beside the point of this post, because I'm really just popping by the internet to show you the pictures the lovely Anette Schive took of me last Saturday (right after seeing that man get chopped into tiny pieces by a moving train). She made me feel at ease under the circumstances and I think the pictures came out rather well:

Anette "the photographer" Schive has magical lensic powers. I assume you've seen some of my tagged images on facebook, how that gollum-like ugly duckling turned into the swan you see in these images, you'll have to ask Anette. See move of her work here, as well as contact information.

Pray for me in my internetless existence, Hare Krishna

Siren

Death On Platform 10, Oslo S

2010-02-27T14:53:00.006+01:00

My carefree existence was severely bruised today. I have never seen anyone die before, until today.

I had an exciting day ahead of me when I woke up this morning. I had a photo shoot at 1130 in Ski. I got up early to ready myself for this happy day of new experiences and got to the train station extra early. I wanted to be calm and in control of myself when I met this stranger who would take pictures of me.

I had some technical difficulties with buyng the ticket, but a young NSB employee came to the rescue. I said I want to catch the train that leaves 1103 to get to Ski. "Looks like your going to make it" he happily replied when i had the ticket in my hand. It was about 1057 as I rushed towards platform 10. I was relieved to see there was no train there yet. As I looked up at the information screen on the platform I saw a older gentleman in my peripheral vision; he was on crutches and leaning towards a railing awfully close to the tracks. I didn't think much of it, but I noticed him. He looked sad and helpless. I was standing about three meters away from him and I heard the train approaching. Fast, really fast. I heard a man behind me yell something, at the same time there was a loud thud; The man on the crutches was gone. The people around me and I where in mutual shock and disbelief. Was he ever really there?

I heard a girl scream suddenly and point to the ground where the old man had stood; there it was, his left crutch. The only prof of him ever standing there. I stared at the crutch and my whole body went cold. I started crying. I don't even know why i started crying. A woman next to me loudly struggled to remember the number to the ambulance while I kept staring at the crutch.

That image of that lonely crutch is now burned in my memory. I don't even remember what the elderly man looked like. Me and a handful other people where the last to see him alive. He spent his last moments with someone who wouldn't even recognize him if someone showed her a picture of him.

Because I had an appointment I needed to keep, I couldn't really do anything after we where herded away from the scene of the accident. I just stood in the middle of a curious crowd in the station. I could here them loudly complaining that NSB never is on time. This is true, but I felt sick. They didn't know what happened.

I finally boarded another train on a track next to where the accident happened. I didn't want to look, but I could see all the other passenger staring intently and silently towards the spot. I turned and looked. I could see that the police and rescue workers had put up a separator so we couldn't see from the train. I was relieved for a moment, but it wasn't big enough. I saw them all climb onto the platform from the track with a square plastic bag on a gurney. It was not long enough for a person and they got it from underneath the middle of the train. I felt sick.

We where herded off that train to. It couldn't leave for unknown reasons. I was told to go to platform 9 where a train would take me to Ski. Platform 9 and 10 are the same platform. Behind the police restrictions the elderly mans crutch was still on the ground where he had taken his last breath.

I had never seen anyone die before. Not like that. I hope he didn't suffer and that his family will be okay.

You might feel that this is insensitive of me, to post something like this on a blog; this blog has become a way for me to process events and emotions. This is an event that won't go unnoticed. I mean no harm by it and if it someone is offended by it I will delete the post.

Just, please don't stand at the edge of the platforms, the train can't stop.

KriSTAR Design from Oslo Fashiom Week 2010

2010-02-25T01:47:00.007+01:00

You know what? Pride be damned! Here are the pictures from the KriSTAR Design runway show. Is it just me or does the whole insanity happening on my head remove some focus from the clothing?

Yes, my conehead is crooked, but my brain still works!

Did you know this was actually the first time I wore a wig with another wig on top of that wig?
The photographer is trying to figure out what colour underwear I had on since the pants actually allow for that to be seen.
I was wearing a black thong.
Oh, would you look at that, my wigsssss have dandruff.
It is very unprofessional to walk the runway with your mouth open, but frankly my cold did not allow me breath orally and the swastika-looking thing glued to my lips felt like it was going to fall off!
I look like a short hairy-chested Russian business woman.
My HUGE head.
I seem to have stepped in some snow/dandruff.
She has got quite a bit more dandruff than me.
Have I seen Blossoms mother wearing this? (Blossom didn't have a mother!)
Or maybe Prince, only a different colour of course..?
Yup, there it is!
Ooooooh, that is a mean case of man-face!

Words cannot describe how happy I am that this show was the one show I could find bunches of images of myself. "Who needs make-up on the runway when your wearing a wig?" they said, their evil plan lurking to the surface. "Invite as many of your frinds and family as you want.." Their eyes red with explosive hi-jinx. "It's coing to be an amazing show, with snow" They rimed as they whispered under their breath sweet words of "You need to loose weight; IN A WEEK" to the girls less violently skinny than me.

And as we warily approached them to be dressed to impress (the handful people in the audience) they said: "Here are some coats for you to wear, REAL fur coats for you to wear!" With a witch-cackle and a twenty-something son taking pictures of us while we undressed you must understand that this was not my best modelling experience.

The show was almost cancelled because of their inappropriate behavior during the process, but the young man with an eye for naked models promised the pictures would never see the light of day, only the light of his room... The show was a success and I realized how little I and those around me like to be yelled at in a foreign language and sit on our asses for hours without knowing what is going on.

Hare Krishna

Siren

My Fav Prostitute!

2010-02-23T19:56:00.008+01:00

I know I'm being a fourteen year old girl about this guy, but since I have too much left of my pride in adulthood to put posters of him on my wall I will dedicate a post on my blog to him.

Since I've been the kind of sick that really isn't that bad, I would have no problems being up and about, except of course for the effect my clogged sinuses have on my mouth. Every time my heal hits the ground, (aka walking) it feels like someone is punching me on the right side of my face, or pulling my teeth without anaesthesia. Needles to say I pray to the almighty God: Nose-spray, sit on my ass eating, unhealthily so and inhale a steady stream of Criminal Minds.

Why, you ask?

Well, I know it is not a particularly good show and the acting that is portrayed by both the regulars and guests is often giggle-worthy there is still one damn fine reason to watch it.

That reason is tall, thin, pale and nerdy:

Matthew Gray Gubler

Oh, prepubescent facial hair, long thin limbs, big wet bug-eyes, longer hair than me. You might think I'm being sarcastic, but I'm really not. This sexy nerd really floats my boat! Even as I google him right this moment to find some images for this post I learn that he used to be a model. Are there weird nerdy models out there except me? I honestly thought finding two fellow weirdo models during fashion week was a miracle. That maybe this handful Norwegian models found a way for academics (not just reading Vogue, that damn booklearnin'), Star Trek and Flight of the Conchords to coincide and still be able to sell our bodies to designers and photographers.

If his modelling wasn't enough I found his website, where he does everything by hand. Its all bad handwriting and weird drawings and paintings; even a reading of one of Edgar Allan Poes poems. Essentially, he is an has created a hipster-gasm:Pictures from GUBLERLAND

I want to rip that tweed jacket right of Dr. Spencer Reid! But enough swooning, there's work to be done; I have a seemingly infinite amount of episodes yet to watch of Criminal Minds and I desperately need to find out how they make these pictures move (example below)..."My God, the pictures are moving, is this picture from The Daily Prophet?!"

Hare Krishna

Siren

Look, It's me! In Oslo Fashion Week 2010!

2010-02-20T14:03:00.004+01:00

I'm sick as a fish about to go belly up today, so I've been soothing my clogged head with some blog-searching for myself. I thought some of you lovely people might not have taken such an extreme interest in my modelling as to have stumbled upon the handful images of me scattered around the inter-web so therefore I have taken it upon myself to gather up some for you to see (P.S whilst writing this short passage I had to get up to blow my nose three times...3!)
Opening ceremony of Oslo Fashion Week 2010. I'm walking for the first design collection of the day NICE. (db.no)

Marvel comics inspired my favourite designers of OFW Flinga Clothing. They are my age and love superheroes and bad movies with lots of action in them. What more can one ask for?
You can see a climpse or two of me on this video from SMUG-TV!

I found some images of me from after the Flinga F/W 2010 show where I was marked as GUEST. Good job fashion week people for not recognizing my slightly runway-like makeup. Fun though, me and my pear!

Last and least, for a reason, there are some images from Tina H. I love her and her clothing, but as you can see I was not to happy about the hairpiece on top of my head and frankly I look like a man in a really futuristically cool dress. LOVE her clothes, but manly-McManface nonetheless...

I haven't been able to find any pictures from the Kristar Design show yesterday, but that might be for the best...

Hare Krishna

Converse make-under!

2010-02-08T23:46:00.003+01:00

Are you like me and have a compulsion to make your brand new Converse shoes look like they've been to a festival or two, but don't know how to magically grunge them down?

Well, fret no longer because some freaks at NylonTV have bestowed upon us confused converse'ians a tutorial that explains via video the magic of making your brand new shoes look lived in. Ahh, what would we do without the interweb?!

Cute huh?

Siren

I Blame Coco too

2010-02-06T16:09:00.001+01:00

Just because sometimes broken SwEnglish is the best kind of English!

I found some pictures!

2010-02-06T15:07:00.004+01:00

After a strenuous five seconds of google-blog-searching I found some pictures from the show, with me in them!
I'm the one with my back to the camera...

See, the praying worked, my shoes weren't that bad... It did however make me seem shorter than the two ladies next to me (Which I am, but slap on some higher shoes and let the illusion be complete)

The two ladies in front stood for the hair cuts, colour and design!

Hare Krishna

Joker-face

2010-02-06T13:31:00.006+01:00

I did Mote med Mening last night, with the lovely Silje in the audience. (Which really stretched my nerves an extra bit) I was hoping my first time walking the runway with my booty hanging out and no underwear on would be in a room filled with complete strangers, but I realized that with her there, I could know for sure that there was at least one friendly face in the audience! I took some pictures backstage with my phone that you can giggle at until I can get my claws on some pictures from the actual show!

"Wella professionals: Hair comes alive in our hands" It said on the goodie-bag!

The people from Wella that made it all happen and picked me to be a part of it, thank you Anki and Co.

Braaaaaaaains!

I felt weird smiling with this kind of dark, ghostlike makeup on... Should ghost-zombies smile?

The makeup of a true dragqueen, fake eyelashes!

The models that went on before us (that wasn't what they wore, the poor basterdettes has some horribly painted on fake tribal tattoos on their arms, ich!)

All joking aside, IT WAS AWESOME! At one point one person was doing my makeup, while another was doing my nails... I got numerous tips for maintaining my skin, lips, hair. I even got a flipping goodie-bag filled to the rim with Wella products (The ones hairdressers use, not stuff they sell in the stores) I'm chuffed! I met hilarious gay stylists, hairdressers and make-up artists aaaaand all my preconceptions about models are shattered. I loved them all even after being locked in a room with them from 11am until we finished the show at about 11pm. That is a long ass time to be stuck in a room with people if you don't like them... Granted, it was a big room, but still!

Tomorrow I am meeting with a designer to see if he/she would like to use me for fashion week. If they do I officially have two modelling jobs for Fashion Week 2010!

This shit is crazy!

Siren

Revisiting my 90s

2010-01-31T22:57:00.008+01:00

These are the kind of memories you have of the nineties if you, like me thought your older brother was the cooles and radest person in the world and you'd listen to EVERYTHING he listened to. I think the nineties where better for us lucky ones with older siblings to look up to and whom would scare the pants of anyone who dared bully their little sister. (There where a few bastard bullies since the nineties where a time of religious freedom, which in turn meant my parents where free to remove me from all the Christianity based lessons in school... Since being tall, shy and thin wasn't enough!)

Man-voice be damned, I sooo wanted to be her!

This was my hero when I was about ten-elevenish (before he got all weird and somewhat of a violent paedophile...) and this was my favourite song... "Spiritually raped" In hindsight and my limited grasp of the English language aside I might have felt this man and particularly this song understood my feelings towards religion, in my case, Jehovah Witnesses. I did feel spiritually raped. It sounds harsh, but involuntary religious upbringing of that magnitude is a form of mind-rape! I still get the cry/sweats every time my mum asks me if I want to come with them to a meeting...

I can't forget the other heroes of mine in the nineties. I feel a slight pattern of tom-boy girls... and Johnny Depp because he was soooooo dreamy!

Hare Krishna

Siren

Animals are living creatures!

2010-01-21T19:09:00.004+01:00

I am shocked and appaled at humanity, including myself! When did we evolve to the point where the only people who can withstand a little snow are EMOs under the age of sixteen and what I can only assume where their parents?! I left half way through because of hunger, cold and a meeting I have to be at at eight O'clock, but I could have stayed quite a bit longer and still made it...

I went to the protest against animal cruelty and for their rights today and was actually shocked to see how few of the people there where between the age of nineteen and thirty-five. There where some, even two in weelchirs, but the general population were missing. I think we need to get better at vocalizing our opinions on the things that matter. I realize that most of the stuff I write about in my blog aren't and that writing about animal rights in the same blog I write about fashion might to some be ironic, but I believe even the smallest action towards a better life for humans and animals alike is a step in the right direction. So therefore, excuse my hypocrisy and I assure you that I will never knowingly buy a real fur coat! Please stop hunting animals for sport and improve their living conditions on those BIG. ASS. industrial farms!

If you want to help the fight for animal rights, you can sign up at NOAH (the people in charge of todays protest) I did!

Hare Krishna

Siren

Finally fashion work!

2010-01-20T13:31:00.005+01:00

I recieved an e-mail from Pholk yesterday and as you might know I thought, possibly, It could be the inevitable "none of the designers wanted you to walk for them in Oslo Fashion Week 2010" e-mail. Therefore I swallowed the green lump of anticipation in my through, put my expectations down as low as I could and reluctantly opened the potentially lethal e-mail.

Luckily,

It was a job! Wella Norway wanted to use my "modelling expertise" in their fashion show (I presume it is a hair-style dominated event) of the Mote med Mening 2010 fashion extravagance. I am both excited and nervous. They actually want to send a complete spazz like me onto a catwalk to show off their fashion genius. I feel an overwhelming pressure not to trip and fall on my face... I feel it miiiiight just take some of the attention away from the hair!

But, if they cant do it, how can I possibly? I only have two weeks to perfect my walk; the show is on the February 5th!

Chant with me: Sensible shoes in the show, sensible shoes, sensible shoes, sensible shoes!

Hare Krishna

I love Barney Stinson

2010-01-18T22:14:00.001+01:00

There are no words needed!

2010-01-17T03:07:00.001+01:00

flougen der blaaaaaagen-bloooogen

Casting for Oslo Fashion Week 2010

2010-01-14T21:36:00.006+01:00

This is what has been occupying every inch of my mind this entire week: I got an e-mail from the lovely people at the Heartbreak/Pholk modelling agency asking me if I wanted to come to the casting for this years fashion week. I sat in an awe shaped bliss for about ten minutes until I finally wrapped my head around the request and immediately answered YES, OH SWEET ALEXANSER MCQUEEN YES!

The casting was today at 1800 in the Heartbreak/Pholk studio. Needless to say I have been walking on high heels al day practising and scrutinizing every blemish on my face, secretly try to will them away with some intense meditation. (It didn't work) I put on the tightest jeans in my closet and the tightest top H&M could muster up.

As I (cat)walked the streets of Oslo on my way to Karl Johans gate 8 where the casting was held I cranked my Flight of the Conchords on my mp3-player to the max to pscyce myself up. It really worked. As I walked up the stairs to the studio I felt like a supermodel, on top of the world and my self-confidence was embarrassingly high... until I got to the right floor and saw a seemingly endless queue of tall, beautiful, Victoria Secret princesses. My jaw dropped and instantly I felt completely out of place. It was a remarkable sight, somewhat like what one would think a Hot Girls Club would look like. Honestly, I'm kicking myself for not bringing my camera with me to truly show you the extent of GORGEOUS in that room.

As I had changed into my high heels and taken place in the queue of immaculate ladies, I suddenly started hearing the things they where talking about. How they had loved last Fashion Week and the phootoshoots they had been to lately. They all seemed to know each other... It was unsettling! Especially a deuchy Agyness Deyn looking short haired girl retrieve a pile of magazines and started showing some of the other girls all the editorials she'd been featured in; Costume and a few magazines I had never heard of.

And if that wasn't enough, a girl came out of the casting quite distraught saying that she had walked to fast, told the panel of designers that she was really nervous (Which apparently was severely frowned upon, YIKES!), made her walk over and oooover again and they had started asking her what experience she had in modelling. I though: I'm fucked... No experience at all and at least six years older than the other new models...

When I and six other beauties had been led into the room of designers I though, as my heart was trying to bump my chest open, that if theatre school had ever tought me anything it is: pretend you know everything, that you have been doing this your entire life! That's what I did.

"Hi, my name is Siren Løkaas, I'm 177cm tall, my dress size is 34/36 and I wear a size 38 in shoes" As I said this my arms were flailing about as per usual and my voice was oddly loud, but I still think it seemed confident. Then they told me to walk, I did. They told me to walk again, I did...

That was it, they didn't ask me anything... What does it mean?! I truly have no idea if it was good or bad and I have to wait up till three weeks before I know if any of the designers would like to use me! IT'S HELL I TELL YOU!

Look who was in the front row at last years Fashion Week! I would like to walk for her..

Keep your fingers crossed for me!

Hare Krishna

Running men

2010-01-10T00:15:00.000+01:00

Don't you just feel like Forest Gumping the streets sometimes? Today has been one of those days for me. There will be a full update on my ridiculous attempt at moving apartments by tram tomorrow. Rest assured it was tumultuous, to say the least! In the mean time, here is Editors doing the running man... or men in the video for Papillon, which I LOVE!

Night-Night

I'm the evil camera torturer!

2010-01-04T15:56:00.004+01:00

I need someone to donate an awesome camera to me so I can take more photos like this one, which I took when my friend DJ Huldra (I think that was her DJ name, but I can't be sure with my goldfish brain fully equipped with an endless black hole eternally sucking in birthdays, names, songs and where people live... It's embarrassing and shockingly true) let me play around with her DSLR camera with a brand new lens.

Not that my endlessly growing array of disposable cameras (never to be developed..) don't contain a certain amount of charm, on my desk, hoping to end their lives as a paper-pocket filled with images, but knowing that they probably won't. I'm pretty sure word has gone around the disposable camera community and I will soon be refused new cameras until I have developed the films of old!

Forgive my flimsy-fousyness dear disposable cameras, your destiny shall be fulfilled!

Hare Krishna

2010

2010-01-01T20:08:00.005+01:00

This was not the way I spent my new years eve and fabulous as it was, a part of me would have liked to spend it in the manner depicted in the images adorning this post.

I'm excited to see what 2010 will bring; something tells me this might become my year best illustrated by Johnny Depp and I will blog about every sordid detail of the new year.

I wish everyone GREAT year to come because

and you deserve a beautiful year!

Hare Krishna

Siren

Turning to shit

2009-12-09T19:26:00.000+01:00

Since all the wonderful American television entertainment I used to enjoy is turning to shit (Heroes *vomit*, Dexter and House *DULL*, True blood *Explicit nudity will only keep my attention so long*, Gossip Girl *Embarrassing*) Therefore I thank ABC that Better Off Ted got a second season and based on the the season première I saw not five minutes ago I feel the sweet relief of brainless entertainment of adequate quality sooth my boredom!

(My God Portia De Rossi is hot; Ellen is one lucky lesbian!

I remember hearing or reading somewhere that Better of Ted is another stroke of genius from the creators of Scrubs, but since I've had a few days off now I made the mistake of downloading the first episodes of the new season of Scrubs. After enduring that torture I'm pretty sure Better Off Ted will deny any affiliation with Scrubs... Oops, of course I mean Scrubs: Med. School..(?) No Janitor, no Kelso and no hilarious extras?! Pfhhht! Why didn't you just let it die with some dignity left?

Hare Krishna

Siren

BUY IT, READ IT, LOVE IT!

2009-12-08T18:38:00.008+01:00

As I had my final exam last Friday, the first thing I did when I now finally had some time to read something non-curriculum was to read Nick Caves newest work of literary genius The Death of Bunny Munro. I read the whole beautiful book in one sitting, granted it is not the longest book in the world, but it has been a while since I have read such a captivating book. The story of a a man loosing his wife to suicide and having to take care of his nine year old son whilst fighting his non-exciting parenting skills and an ever growing addiction is both horrifying and beautiful. Cave uses humorous writing to lift the horrendous acts of parental neglect and sexual deviancy to a readable level and I LOVE IT! It hurt to live the perspective of that poor boy, which is truly what you find yourself doing; and as I sat there reading the perspective of Bunny spiralling through his addiction and towards his death I morphed into the stereotype of a african-american lady in the cinema screaming "DON'T GO IN THERE!" at the screen. READ IT DAMN YOU!

I truly think I could write about it for hours, but I also realize you should read it yourself and not listen to my incessant book-stroking soooooooo

Hare Krishna

Siren

Yeasayer - Ambling Amp

2009-12-06T21:17:00.002+01:00

What the what, this video is just fashionably gruesome and aaaaaaawe-some!!!

Strutting my stuff

2009-12-06T20:56:00.004+01:00

As finally finished my excruciatingly boring exam period at Friday about noon and now sit back in my evil-genius chair, petting my imaginary cat; I contemplate how truly delicious it is that I wrote eleven pages of utter bullshit that some poor sod (or several) has to read and take seriously. This makes my evil blood boil with pleasure and what's more I shall get a fail grade on this paper and send a official complaint so that mooooore mousy academics have to read that piece of utter nonsense and again take it seriously! MUHAHAHAH! If only I would use my genius for good the world could be a better place!

Later that Friday..

On a slightly more disturbing note, I went to a catwalk workshop last Friday night and what I saw there was somewhat like something out of a pageant show for little girls. Luckily the girls in question where fourteen, but it was still a surreal experience.
I did have some trepidation about what would meet me at the workshop, if I would be ol' grandma' Siren in a room full of perky tweens. There were no tweens, but a room where the age started at fourteen and ended on twenty-six so I did not feel like a grandma' but a sceptical elderly aunt staring down at padded bras and young wobbling feet in high heels.

The slightly disturbing part however was seeing the parents and younger siblings of the youngest participants of the workshop. They all sat behind a glass door, chatting with one-another in a passive-aggressive "my little girl could whip your little girl off the catwalk with the bat of her fakily eyelashed eyelid" and grinning like caged monkeys while their little girls do their best to flirt with the end of the runway, shake their hips and clench their bum-cheeks "like your trying to close the hole."

It might be the 22year old model bitch in me speaking in a jelous stupor of my lost modeling youth, but I think one should wait untill one is at least out of the ungdomsskole diaper and as a freshfaced pimply sixteen-year old could start the journey down the runway.

I know I didn't understand nor love my pasty thin body at fourteen, luckily I've had eight years of that exact pasty, non-boobed body to get used to it... But as cool as the catwalk coach said my androgynous look and body was I need to practice my walk because I stick my head forward when I walk, somewhat like an angry swan!
Hare Krishna

Siren

LoveArt Part 2

2009-11-28T17:57:00.007+01:00

Because I thought we all need some visual stimulation in these times of studying and neglecting ourselves.

If these images didn't tug at your heart-strings I don't know if I want to know you!

Hare Krishna

Siren

I poo on aesthetics

2009-11-27T17:26:00.004+01:00

When I attempt to bestow my wisdoms on my fellow man in lovely conversation I thought that the degree in aesthetics I'm reluctantly trying to achieve would help and up-deuche me, but it doesn't... My brainbox was not created to suckle on the dull tit of philosophical enlightenment and for the life of me, I can not remember why I applied for it in the first place! What was I thinking? "Let's study art philosophy for three years so I can live a long and melancholy life working in art museums, smoking my fingers and teeth yellow and hanging out in Kunstnernes Hus opting for an annoyed facial-expression whilst murmuring about the dull art scene in Oslo, with complete strangers of course since my friends disowned me after I deuchily brought them to an Andres Serrano SHIT exhibition..."

Self Portrait by Andres Serrano

Yeah, it's a poo... And because of my University of Oslo lapse of judgement I am piling on debt and at this exact moment neglecting to study by pondering my stupidity and what kind of man hating/penis loving FUN Cixous was smoking when she wrote The Laugh of the Medusa.

I want to make sweet-sweet love to a bottle of alcohol on a Friday night, but instead I should be reading art history or the history of literature since my exams are on Monday 30th until Thursday 3rd followed by a four hour exam on Friday. And now I feel ashamed that I could possibly find these cute little exams THIS stressful. It's three exams per semester, which is nothing! Dang, I need to get my priorities straight and study!

Hegel-Kant-Adorno-Barthe bullshit here I coooooome!

Hare Krishna

Siren

IT'S MONKI-TIME

2009-11-26T16:41:00.000+01:00

All you frolicking loonies out there with your ass ever more flattened by the chairs of Blindern and your eyes screaming for Kant to either leave you alone or help you understand his aesthetic gibberish; which some academic idiot thought had to be important enough to make us read OVER AND OVER AGAIN, until we know every word,but still understand nothing...

Throw your books away, this is no time for the pre-exam cold-sweats!

MONKI has opened in Bogstadveien and that is cause for shopping celebration, throw caution to the wind and whip out your mastercard; I'll see you there!

Hare Krishna

Siren

Denga Denga

2009-11-21T06:55:00.004+01:00

DengaDenga - Kids from YAP Records on Vimeo.

This is the newly and obviously home-made video from the band DengaDenga. It is another in a long line of bands hailing from Bergen, Hordaland, coincidentally my home town and constant source of impetuous pride and longing; as other bergeneese bands this has also prevailed under the wings of Datarock Fredrik's label YAP Records.

The song and video really floats my boat with it's cute nerdiness, hope the album will be good!

Hare Krishna

Siren

Giving

2009-11-20T06:42:00.003+01:00

This story of The Giving Tree made me cry this cold and dark morning. Shel Silverstein tells a beautifully fucked up story!

R.I.P, to damn young!

2009-11-19T21:09:00.003+01:00

Daul Kim was a 20-year old model from Korea. She was found dead in her Paris apartment today. Her agents at Next confirm. "She was a top model and a great friend to all of us at Next. Please respect her family’s privacy at this time of sadness. We will all miss her very much," they said in a statement. The cause of death remains unknown at this time but a source tells the Cut she committed suicide.

She will be missed.

I'm just THAT lucky

2009-11-16T09:29:00.004+01:00

What I am about to tell you is the dullest, least interesting story of all time. I seem to be posting ever less on this divine blog of mine, thus I shal start out with a tale so imaculately boring that my future post will inevitably rise from the ashes of this burning inferno of boring like a phoenix rises from the ashes of its own corpse.

And don't dare to think this is one of my ironic tales of every-day life gone wrong with surprising spurts of blood from earlobes and infatuations with female dental hygienists.

Friday: The top of the weekend, a day for venting anger and sexual frustration, as Freud would have us belive is done through jokes and humour, and not binge-drinking and promiscuity; dang, did that sexual deviant get it twisted (I, of course, speak purely of myself). I had two lovely bottles red wines picked by the fail-safe method of "pick the cheap ones that aren't many left of" and a new Levi's tank that would enhance the length of my spaghetty-arms and generally thin and bony upperbody. Nedless to say I had the paedophiles confused on the dancefloor that night.

It was a wonderful gathering of new and old friends, even some from as far away as Bergen whom had traversed the land for a Saturday of Prodigy and Extacy. We dub-step'ped and drank until about 1-2AM'ish before resolving to go out for some "sitting down in a loud place" where I drunkenly got up the nerve to comment on the Jemain(from Flight of the Conchords)'ness of a guy.

After the crowd had thinned at Lunar (?) and we troopers of afterparties planned to drink some more in an apartement in Brugata, I suddenly found myself without my wallet in the Deli de Luca close to Rockefeller. I rushed back to the bar in hopes of a miraculous wallet revival. No such luck, I had been my ditsy self and now my wallet had a new owner. I then proceeded to pout for a bit because I realized I couldn't buy cigarettes, which at this point for some reason was my only concern.

Luckily I was offered cigarettes in my time of need, thought of my wallet and fount that I had never heard of a better reason than this to keep drinking in my life! Off we went in search of wine in an apartment in Brugata; little did I know a miracle was brewing in the dark streets of Oslo...

At 4-5AM'ish I noticed a strange number had recently called my mobile. Normally I pay no attention to strange numbers, but I was still pretty drunk so I called it back. It was the Police in Grønland whom had in some undisclosed way ended up in the posession of my wallet. I was stunned, perplexed and not at all ready to walk from Brugata through Grønland to get my wallet back at 5AM. The lovely policeman was understanding of my rape/murder-fright and said they would send it to the station by Sentrum scene where I could pick it up sometime during Saturday as I did with high heels and purple lips and blueish teeth.

Everything was still there except whatever cash I might have had in it... HAHAHA I'm still to lucky for my own face!

Hare Krishna

Siren

This video just blew my mindhole!

2009-11-08T18:47:00.003+01:00

"I Say Fever" - the first video from the Ramona Falls debut album Intuit. Directed by the ridiculously talented Stefan Nadelman, winner of a 2003 Sundance prize for his 22 minute film 'Terminal Bar', a prolific animator in the commericial field and the mastermind behind the Menomena Evil Bee video.

Ramona Falls is Brent Knopf's first solo venture, but he has an extensive musical resume as part of trio Menomena (an indie rock band from Portland, OR, that's snagged plaudits from such tastemakers as Pitchfork Media and the New York Times.)

Directed and Animated by Stefan Nadelman
Produced by Tourist Pictures
(YouTube summary)

Hare Krishna

Siren

CheekyCheeky

2009-11-08T09:36:00.003+01:00

Russh Magazine

Keep you hangover at bay with junkfood and sunday-cuddles, don't start questioning the mysterious bruising and have an ass'tastic Sunday!

Hare Krishna

OMG OMG OMG

2009-11-04T13:02:00.003+01:00

I don't know if you remember my disappointment and aggravation from an earlier post where I had sent over some ridiculously amateur self-portraits to a modelling agency to see the lay of the land. Could I use my tall and thin for anything? Apparently I couldn't...

But...

I was floored yesterday when as I was checking my e-mail because there it was: a request for me to model! It is of course not paid or anything, but I get to help aspiring photographers and stylists, AND I get to keep the pictures they take of me all decked out by magical stylists with help from an even more magical stylist! FUN FUN FUN!

E-mail:
Tirsdag 10. november skal motekonsulent-klassen på Utdanningshuset ha en workshop med stylist Margrethe Gilboe (før att få se jobb hon gjort gå in på www.pudder.org) som underviser i fashion-styling, og fem stk fotografer fra Bilder nordic sin toårige mote og reklamelinje som skal ta bildene som så ni modeller får.

I have never taken a semi-professional picture before and I'm so excited!

Hare Krishna

Music Go Music

2009-11-02T22:25:00.005+01:00

As you might have noticed, I have found blogging to be a pain in the lower colon lately...But I am easing back into it with this introduction to a lovely new band too twittered about not to get me intrigued:

I can't find them on Spotify yet, but in anticipation of their upcoming fame and downloadability you can always give um a listen on myspace!

Hare Krishna

ShoePorn

2009-10-23T23:13:00.005+02:00

Vogue Paris November 2009

Rodarte Boots

Alexander McQueen

Chanel

Balmain

Acne

I just finished my analysis of Waiting for Godot and that calls for a celebration. Therefore I'm making myself drinks (poorly, because I don't have any tonic so frankly I'm drinking from the bottle...) and looking at sexy and insane shoes. If a model can walk in Alexander McQueen shoes I am eternally in awe!

I don't drink alone nearly enough!

Hare Krishna and hope to ser you at Detektivbyrån at Chateu Neuf tomorrow night

Siren

arg

2009-10-23T14:18:00.003+02:00

I don't want to fucking write any more, I have unwelcome opinions that I cannot suppress any longer, which are bubbling towards the surface with nowhere to go but into my analysis! OOOh Uni. of Oslo, you deliberately dull mistress...

Slept until 2pm today... doesn't that say something about my dedication to the paper I have to write before this day is over?

Hare Krishna

Siren

EUtube

2009-10-20T23:34:00.001+02:00

I have NEVER been this excited about chemicals reacting before!

New Hairstyle

2009-10-19T21:27:00.003+02:00

I went and cut my hair at the beautiful Adam & Eva salon again and they did not fail to impress with their scissoring excellence. I struggled to explain what I wanted, but the wonderful punky shorthaired girl translated my idea into this whicked haircut! I adoooooooore it! It cost 730NOK, but goddamnit it is worth it. If your planning to cut your hair soon go to Adam & Eva in Gamlebyen. AND another of the beautify stylists said it had a cool Yeah Yeah Yeahs feel to it, and if that isn't what one wants from a hairstyle I don't know what is!

(Excuse the horrid photos, but deadly pale vs ebony backround with the camera on my phone does not translate into perfect images) (And my face)

Hare Krishna

Siren

Ggggggreat

2009-10-17T01:56:00.003+02:00

kě

可

zhēn

真

téng

疼

It really hurts...

Cai Guo-Qiang (1957) Over the past 20 years, his work has made an indelible mark with major international exhibitions, among them many world-renowned exhibitions including at The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, The Museum of Modern Art in New York, Tate Modern in London, and Centre Pompidou in Paris, and his works are in the permanent collections of these museums.... And Astrup Fearnley... in 2004... (not mentioned on his website, for obvious reasons)

Hare Krishna'bob

Siren

LoveArt

2009-10-12T17:19:00.005+02:00

I've been stumbelig upon a ridiculous amount of love-related images lately, so I thought I should scramble them up and put together. For some reason I feel I can relate to the complexity of love these images depict. The different emotions, insecurities, hope, confusion, heartache! It's comforting in a way.

Hare Krishna

Siren

NO MAKEUP

2009-10-07T15:53:00.006+02:00

Yesterday, as I was about to spend close to 300NOK of my hard earned student loan on a new concealer I couldn't help but think about why I feel the need to put on a mask every day. For anyone who has seen me in person they know it's not a flamboyant facial mask; my body-mask far surpasses my facial one, but nonetheless I have come to the point where I can not walk out of my apartment without some (often useless) make-up on my skin.

Well enough is enough!

I have taken a picture of my neatly and freshly washed face without a trace of make-up on and am now about to share that with you. I am not ready to flaunt my pored and pimpled face out in public, but I feel a picture on my blog is sufficiently detached from reality... (plus, I shot the image with the camera on my sexy Nokia 5800 XpressMusic, nedless to say 3.2 pixels do not catch the full extent of my skin-issues...)

Almost, but with no further ado I present to you:

Me!

Hare Krishna

Siren

New Jeff Koonz Print "Natasha"

2009-10-05T15:22:00.005+02:00

This new Jeff Koons print has been released to celebrate the recent edition of Italian fashion magazine Muse’s “Natasha Obsessed ” issue, which is entirely dedicated to Russian model Natasha Poly (as seen nippling below).
Along with Jeff Koons, Muse has selected some of the greatest image creators and artists on the international scene to contribute (Craig Mc Dean, Terry Richardson, Solve Sundsbo, David Hamilton, Riccardo Tisci, Prada…)

(Source: Slamxhype)

And if you for some obscure reason might want to spent 800Euro on this print you can go here... And you can judge for yourself why one might put a models head upon the body of the Hulk!

aaaaaaeeeeehaaaaa I have to start writing my paper!

2009-10-04T01:55:00.007+02:00

I NEVER learn! I HAVE got to get better at student...ing! I could argue that I'm fighting "the man" in not studying and procrastinating to the point of this ridiculous hour... I haven't even read the middle ages yet!

AAAAH it is soooooo dull! I made up my mind to sit at home and do some work today and not go out for delightful jubilance and hi-jinx as I usually would on a Saturday night; It all started so well as I got out of bed at noon, but them I realized there was a Ned Flanders Simpsons marathon on Viasat 4 and I knew I was screwed...

List of things I find the time to do instead of writing the paper do on Monday:

-Watch Simpsons marathon
-Clean apartment (In my defence it was disgustingly overdo...)
- Read 154 blog posts on Bloglovin'
- Reflect upon the name Roxy (What my brother named his freshly birthed baby-girl)

Roxy Music (Band), Roxy Hunter (Annoying Nikelodeon kid), Roxy (duuuude), Roxy Hart (He had it coming...)
I see great things in her future!

- Figure out my new haircut and style

Thank you Aggy!

I've wanted to refresh my hair again for some time now, but have been in doubt as to what style/celeb to mimic for some time now; but as always "when in doubt, google-blog Agyness Deyn"

- Bid on Australian vintage clothes on e-bay
- Peruse Asos.com
- Go to the grocery store to buy Coco Puffs, candy and Gøteborg Rapé snus
- Drink wine
- Blog...

Plato, Aristotle, Thomas Aquinas and what's-his-face: Your paper will be halfassed if finished at all and I'm truly sorry. I lack the discipline and inspiration philosophy requires and now I'm going to watch Mallrats.
Hare Krishna

Soon to be University drop-out Siren

Devendra Banhart

2009-09-30T14:17:00.000+02:00

If you didn't already know, Davandra Banhart is a pretty cool cat! Just check out this gorgeous video starring "Tall Dark and Weird" himself and the ever exquisite Natalie Portman!

He is my Hare Krishna

Siren

Treat me like your mother

2009-09-29T18:30:00.003+02:00

According to my badassery: wanting to kick the crap out of the man I used to doink and the snake-haired, blemished and queen of evil Team Models lady, I thought this insanely wicked Dead Weather video would be appropriate!
Short film "Treat Me Like Your Mother" for The Dead Weather directed by Jonathan Glazer.

Now I'm off to make the middle ages, Plato and Aristotle my bitches and cram some of their philosophy into a three page paper par excellence.

Hare Krishna

Siren

Emotional stability

2009-09-28T18:56:00.009+02:00

As I wrote in an earlier posty-wost, a lovely and handsome photographer made my day by telling me I should be a model. And as I have a students predictable money problems and apparently a face that no one wants to hire for a "regular" job, I thought: why not try this modelling thing, maybe I can make some extra money being the before girl or that weird one in the background. It would definitely rub the belly of my narcissistic exhibitionism! Or so I thought...

I read up on what Team Models wanted from an applicant and naively took a picture of my weird, but bonestructurally decent face, with a crooked smile and very little make-up bestowed upon it; a full length picture of myself in a tight dress and high heels was obligatory so I obliged. It was unquestionable amateur, but they said that's what they wanted. My waist looked tiny, my legs superfluously long and my eyes with almost equally open lids. What more can they ask for?

Sadly this was the reply I got:

Hei Siren.

Takk for din henvendelse til oss.

Det er nok i seneste laget å prøve seg som modell når man har blitt 22 år. De aller fleste modellene starter når de er

15/16 år , og er ganske proffe når de har nådd din alder. Det blri vanskelig å konkurrere med......

Vi har også sett på bildene dine, og må dessverre beklage, men du er ikke rett type for oss.

mvh

Eivor

(AND here is the Google Translate version of this unfortunate kick in the pants... To make it less depressing!)

Hey Siren.
Thank you for your inquiry to us.
It is NOK in the latest team to try out as a model when one has been 22 years. Most models start when they are
15/16 years, and is very professional when they have reached your age. It blri difficult to compete with ......
We have also looked at your pictures, and must, unfortunately, sorry, but you are not the right type for us.

mvh
Eivor

Needless to say Eivor is a shit. Is there anything worse than ...... in an e-mail like this? Like I'm this ridiculous obece 75year old transvestite with a gland problem. I know I'm reading to much into this, but I feel as though he's mocking me like one would mock an Idol/Fear Factor contestant with the look of the Elephant Man and the voice of, well... me! Telling me I'm to old wasn't enough for him; he really needed to tell me that my look and pictures where crap as well.

The annoying thing is that I really wasn't bothered with the prospects of work or success in modelling. It is not my profession of choice, but now that this ass-faced douche told me I wasn't young and model-ly enough, I suddenly want to be a model! I want to succeed against the odds and prove this semi-anonymous man wrong..(?!)

My brainbox must have short-circuited somewhere along the way. Welly-welly-well, professional help is being sought!

And just to put the diarrhoea-cherry on top of this shit-sundae; I have inexplicably lost my doink-buddy without explanation and the second I this dawned upon me I realized how much I want him whom I can't have. It's ridiculaaaaaaaas!

Hare Krishna

Siren

(Russell Brand eye-candy because I'm sad)

Shadows

2009-09-27T21:34:00.000+02:00

From the album "The Bird Of Music". I'm utterly in love with these lovely ladies and they're out with a new video these days. I thought that might be worth rolling my sore, depressed and delicate Sunday night body out of bed for!

Premiere of Au Revoir Simones new video HERE. Thank you David Lynch Foundation Television!

"I LOVE AU REVOIR SIMONE ..... THESE GIRLS HAVE WHAT IT TAKES ..... MUSIC JUST FLOWS OUT OF THEM SO NATURALLY - AND IT'S GREAT MUSIC ...... THIS VIDEO FOR "SHADOWS" - FROM THEIR NEW ALBUM "STILL NIGHT, STILL LIGHT" IS MIGHTY - THE COLOR AND THE LIGHT ARE STELLAR - THE MOVES AND LOOKS - MINIMAL - CLEAN - MODERN AND SOLID ..... IT ALL COMES ALONG SO WELL SUPPORTING THE GIRLS AND THEIR MUSIC ..... ANNIE, ERIKA AND HEATHER HAVE GOT THEIR ACT TOGETHER - THEY'RE BIG - BUT THEY'RE GONNA BE BIGGER - THEY'RE GONNA BE REAL BIG"

- DAVID LYNCH

There he is, with a chicken!

Hare Krishna

Siren

Aggy-Waggy

2009-09-27T03:19:00.002+02:00

Agyness Deyn with dark hair and the money to look fashionably grunge... Bitter? Yes, but mostly jealous... She always looks immaculate!

2009-09-26T00:54:00.002+02:00

ERIN WASSON x RVCA Spring 2010 runway show, Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week

People keep saying she blatantly copied some other designer, but if she did it she did it well!

That better be fake

2009-09-25T21:25:00.004+02:00

Vogue Paris October 2009

I'm a bit preoccupied and therefore I have to post these less than interesting posts of random Kate Moss'ness. Of course my inner hipster love them, but I'll get back on the vernacular-ious writing of the past!

Hare Krishna

I found someone with smaller boobs than me!

2009-09-24T01:29:00.003+02:00

Small-boobied-McModel!

I shall sleep like a baby tonight when I finally have seen prof that I am not the only one inflicted with the tube-top repellent non-boob!

Sleep tight my lovers

Siren

Villainy Wears Many Masks

2009-09-23T01:16:00.004+02:00

I'll Let Tim Burton speak for himself with these incredible images for Harpers Bazar October 2009. If it was certain I would be dressed in these kinds of creations and be a part of recreating Burtons universe in image form I would gladly snort all the cocaine in Lily Allens handbag AND live the rest of my life gathering nourishment from a diet of coffee, air and cigarettes; as this is what my bruised brainbox expects of models!

Aah, preconceptions!

Hare krishna

Siren

Saturday night

2009-09-21T19:28:00.010+02:00

Unsettling woman who ran up to me screaming and embracing me just to take off without a word..

(Unflattering angle? That's what you get for using someone else's camera when they're not there donkey-face!)

Documented night of surreal hi-jinx and jubilance at "Gangfest" and "Jentevors"!

Hare Krishna