Coat – H&M, Top – Amber Sakai, Jeans – Henry Holland x Debenhams, Shoes – Friis & Company (via Zalando), Camerabag – Stylesscrapbook x Kipling, Leather Jacket – Day Birger et Mikkelsen, Navy blazer- Uniqlo
Shelving Disneyland and Paris for now – and I’m aware this shelf is still full with unfulfilled promises of Part Two‘s of supposedly fantastical adventures (i.e Azerbaijan and Kew Gardens), but I suppose now they will have to get cozy on the IKEA Billys until I run out of topics to entertain my guests (you) and then soon enough I’ll start pulling out photo-albums and first-editions from the bookshelf at an attempt to impress. I kind of wish I have a fancy chandelier instead.
Ironically, I’d mentioned that Berlin to me was like Disneyland when I was a teenager – a faraway land where all dreams come true… or in other words anywhere but home where curfew is 10pm, parties start at 11 and mother leaves 12 missed calls while you’re dancing. A faraway land with lots of light and a vibrant music culture, preferably. So when I landed in Berlin courtesy of Zalando I was hit by excitement, nostalgia and a tinge of giddiness, but shock to the system, too. I was quickly realizing I’d actually grown out of popular music (is Katy Perry still kissing girls?) and was finding all the graffiti more disconcerting than amusing – probably sharing inner-boiling sentiments of an old German lady living on the second floor of a freshly graffiti-ed compound. But as Carrie and I lost ourselves on an expedition to find the Brandenburg gate for touring’s sake we kept running into unexpected, awesome nooks that diverted us even further off the beaten track. It takes a while to understand, that you need to stop comparing the city to Paris or London at some point and from then on it becomes a completely new experience. The grunge and the architectural disorderliness are simply products of the rich history of Berlin, as if it’s all embedded in the buildings and streets, now how charismatic is that.