When you look like an infant, yet you’re a grown-ass WOMAN

by  on  in The life • 23 Comments

I very recently, today actually, got a compliment on Instagram (poor girl, nay -young woman…, this is NOT directed at you, so many people do this, and it was wrapped up in a compliment. Which I’m grateful for <3). The comment said ‘babies’. Which was obviously meant as a complimentary remark stating that I was cute. Which she told me afterwards when I questioned it.

This was sweet of her. She saw a picture, liked it and -even bothered to take the time of her day to comment on a picture of me. I love that! Don’t get me wrong.

(Very scared now, can you tell? Of being perceived as an ungrateful bitch? Which I probably would have preferred actually over cute baby..

My problem is ‘babies’. This is not meant as ‘babe’ as you would call, I guess, a hot person..?, or that hideous name kids call each other nowadays, ‘bae’. 

Now these are all gross things to call a grown human being, but you would never use these terms to describe a baby. ‘Babies’ is clearly coming from the description one would use of those small ones. You know, what we enter the world as? What we were (not anymore) when we know nothing and need attention, love, being taken care of, looked after, provided for and shielded at all times. When we were babies.

I AM A WOMAN.

Now, if you’re reading this, girl who wrote that -this is, again, not aimed at you. This is a society issue. Now, personally, I have never called someone ‘baby’ (…..), but I am guilty of using the term ‘cute’ to describe a grown-ass woman.

…

We’re grown ups. We go through great pain and grow even more up (as already  grown-up women) when growing and birthing these new ones. These babies. That’s a lot of growth. We’ve worked very hard to get to that point. We’ve been educated all of our lives, from merely living. Studying, many of us. I don’t wanna be viewed as someone who pouts her lips and cries whenever my needs aren’t met. Someone beneath, smaller and more delicate than. Not to mention the sexualization we know happens of the ones underneath, emancipated, subservient in the industry and in society.

I don’t wanna be fucking cute. Nor forever-young! I don’t need to have baby-skin or sleep like a baby, because I’m NOT A BABY ANYMORE!! YOU BEAUTY INDUSTRY, YOU ! Do you know how many hours a baby sleeps a day?! I am a hard-working woman, I don’t have time or wish for that, I have ideas and shit and responsibilities to take care of. I love every year that I age, I wanna look it, feel it and be seen as it. I did that. I lived that. I earned that. I’m a woman.

I’m a warrior of life. And life is really tough! Hard enough as it is, I don’t need to walk around with people looking at me as a cute baby? How the fuck am I going to survive and be taken serious throughout this shit?!

You can call my outfits cute, I don’t really care what you call my actions or whatever.. But let’s not demean each other by calling each other what puts us lower than we really are. In work or socially, age, looks, bodies, brains -all of it.

To all women and men: today I salute the years we’ve worked for! And to the years yet to come -don’t spoil them!! We’re not babies anymore.

Cloaked in flowers and thunder!

by  on  in Beauty, Philosophy, The fashion, The life • 12 Comments

Wednesday. Midweek. Working intensely these days to be able to take half of Thursday and Friday off. The other two are moving so I was thinking I’d stand around drinking wine watching them carry their stuff around.

The weekend was great, as expected. I put my best foot forward as usual, the sun actually came out and we left the party (fairly) early. By (fairly) early I mean we didn’t stay to see the sun rise. It’s quite a crazy crowd. Who get crazier when they get together. Not that I’m better. Worse, probably.

Anyways.

Felt like I needed an extra confidenceboost and give a big Fuck you to my inner voices, so I went Frida Kahlo on the whole tropical theme.

What a woman. A woman of true grit. Larger than life, living fearlessly honest. With passion and drive, complicated love, open about her demons and aware of herself and the way she wanted to live her life.. Which I can relate to. Admire at the least. How ever composed I try to be at times, I do own the whirlwind of a woman that I really am. Like we heard in a movie once that resonated with the little one as a description of me; a woman cloaked in thunder.

I liked it.

Obviously intended to make hair ornament out of fresh flowers. Then again who has that kind of time. Bought some cheap plastic ones and tried to ignore for the entire evening that bullshit elastic band around my head. What am I, a child?

Embarrassing.

Maybe it was made for children..? Who cares.

I did, that’s who. But I’m over it now that the whole thing is over.

Ever graceful.

Packed wine according to how much weight I could carry, and off to the party.

(Also brought my self-made freckles because they’re so fucking cute)

Feeling extremely uncomfortable in my own skin these days ( read; fat. Yes, my eating disorder is still happening and is something I deal with and ignore on a daily basis. I am personally convinced I’ll have to for the rest of my life, and get quite agitated when people tell me otherwise), which resulted in me practically gulping down my wine. Because through carefully and at times quite painfully practicing the elimination method I’ve found this is the easiest, and worst, way to survive the present when the present is a bit shite. There’s no meditating the present away. Sorry. No time for mindfulness when you have social anxiety up to your elastic fucking band, possibly made of and for children, and have to meet and greet fifty people you haven’t seen in about nine years.

But I got away with it without any scandals. Other than a few small (I’ll say, but then again I’m cloaked in thunder) charming improprieties, topping the whole thing off with an actual couples dance of swing..! Which I thought was hilarious. I’d never do a dance class myself. No matter how impressed I was. I would just, never. Not even for our wedding we did. Just, no. Great fun though! When drunk. Channeling Frida Kahlo. Sure she’d enjoy it as well.

 I had a great time! Really. And the best of times always comes when newly experienced pain I find. The contrast is exhilarating. Intoxicating.

Happy Wednesday to you, take comfort in that the worst is over and it’s hopefully downhill from here!

Burnt bacon and other mistakes. It’ll still taste fabulous (because bacon) and you’ll still be ok.

by  on  in Philosophy • 12 Comments

Good morning!

I just made pancakes and bacon in my silk robe. So I’m feeling quite unstoppable today. It’s Saturday, it’s not raining (!) and we’ve got a 30th birthday tonight.

I have a feeling it is gonna be a good day.

That said, we’re going to a birthday with a tropical theme. Ironically it’s ten degrees outside. But it’s all good! We get to pull that viking gene out of our.. wherever it’s been hiding, and are going all in for the occasion. I’ll take pictures. It’ll be great. You’ll love it. It’ll be huge. The Mexicans paid for it. My costume. Because I said so.

Thinking a lot lately about how we all feel the need to max out in all different kinds of stuff. Right? I mean, looking at Instagram, it’s no longer interesting nor worth following if they’re into health and exercising without having abs turning the corner way earlier than the rest of the body. We’re not allowed to be feminists and dress sexy or show skin or be stay at home mums. We can’t be wise without being totally holy and rise above all human instincts. We can’t be intellectual and not know that Austria is landlocked. We can’t have respect for nature and animals and still own a vintage fur. We’re not supposed to lose our shit occasionally when we’re viewed as kind calm souls. And if you’re seen as pretty or “perfect”, people go crazy with praise when a pimple or the occasional stomach roll is showed. Oh, how brave. -You’re just like us!!

No kidding.

The trolls are also everywhere. Of course. Lurking. Waiting silently in the background. Waiting for something they see as an “error” to the image you’ve created or choose to portray.. The fake you you’ve been plotting so carefully for others to believe in. I’m gonna get you you little shit.

Lol.

We assign each other all kinds of abilities and have these unreachable expectations we’re all about to fail at some point.

Now, I get that this happened when we decided to put ourselves out there. Made these profiles and sites of how we wish to portray ourselves. We painted ourselves unrecognizable with makeup to cover up the dirty lies that lies behind it. You fake, you..

And there’s always been judgement. We need our judgement to assess people and situations to avoid getting hurt. But it’s definitely gone to far. You can be healthy and still be categorized as “overweight”. You can be unhealthy and look “perfect”. Very much so actually. You can be as kind as a saint and still say the F-word when you see fit. You don’t have to point it out and feel the need to correct them. We’re only human and chances are they are all aware of that. Because behind that profile all the emotions and insecurities you yourself possess exist. We should all shed some labels and know that we’re all the same.

At least most of us.

As always I’m too impatient to double check this post, plus I have to pack for my tropical party. I don’t write perfectly correct and sometimes I’m stupid. I’m well aware of that. But I’m am good at something, I do it perfectly actually -you do too, and that’s being human.

Have a GREAT weekend, you flawed hooooman, you! You’re awesome!!!!

Summertime.. and the living might not be easy

by  on  in Philosophy, The life • 18 Comments

Since the sun came out and saved all of Norway’s inhabitants from depression, I’ve actually gotten a little bit of color on my body. This used to be important to me. You know those oils..? I don’t think any elaboration is necessary.

Since my sudden development towards rosacea this obviously had to change. Because the sun is skins enemy and all.  Which is maybe the one silver lining about this shit skin disease. Having to be reasonable in the sun. No spf below 30. Total sunblock 50 in face. If I’m very naughty I’ll settle for in 30 in my face and 15-20 on my legs at the end of summer. Bright sides: I probably won’t end up with skin cancer like wolverine did six times. I will look younger than those H&M swimwear models of 2012, in 2020. And hopefully have skin like a dolphin for the rest of my life.

Point! Being.. I have to fake my face a little. Body and face have to match folks. So go harder on blush and sun powder / lowlight than in wintertime.

And in 2017, when we’re all faking so much, everything seems to be the trend, it’s ok to fake freckles, right?

I do. This year I have a little bit freckles. Not every day. But some days.

That’s the beauty of summer, Spontaneity. Being playful. Take yourself a little less serious. Being outside not having to meet other people’s eyes. ‘Cause your behind the safety of sunglasses. There’s barbecues. Swimming..

But when this isn’t the case, when summer isn’t beautiful, summer can be very harsh. It’s hard not to notice your own lack of excitement over the warmer weather causing other people to be happier and socializing more than usual, when it’s all everyone else ever talks about. Drinking rosé at unreasonable hours. Flirting shamelessly with waiters named Fabrizio.

I’ve had summers like this. Spent behind closed porch doors. Blinds shut. Crying behind sunglasses. No ice cream.

Only relief of everyone being outside playing is that you don’t have to feel bad about not being productive in your little cave. That you have built. With your own two hands. Inside. Well, most of us have some sort of summer holiday and don’t have to be productive work-wise for a period of time, I’m talking more of the “hey, what’d you do today?” -kind of productive. I don’t know what’s going on in the land of the free -they seem to be working all the time? Also in my profession we get to feel bad about not being productive all year round <3

BUT! You can throw this thought away. ‘Cause what all the happy idiots did all day was most likely messing around getting sunburnt, eat, drink and take their clothes off. For various reasons. So fuck that, you just finished a whole fucking series on Netflix! And ice cream isn’t just for eating outside in the sun. C’mon..

I try to find joy in the sun-rays piercing through my window shades the days that I do stay in for various reasons. To work. Or worse…

I find pleasure in the knowledge that I know that there’s so much life growing outside and that I don’t have to worry about other people, they’re occupied enjoying life. Time can stand still for a while.

But I always think about the ones feeling down when I myself am feeling good. And we all know it gets worse when everyone else is happier than usual. Celebrating the life you might not be able to even stand. It’s a horrible place to be in.. What makes it even worse is the isolation. Feeling lonely is not to be taken lightly. Some statistics show that not having social connections can be as harmful as smoking or obesity..! And isolation is so much easier to achieve or experience during the holidays.

So we have to try to see each other. Try to reach out. Maybe think about someone who’s had a rough time leading up towards the holiday. Are they attending social events on Facebook? Has anyone seen this person for a while? Are you taking over the whole Instagram feed with photos of FOOD, WINE, HOLIDAYS, PARTIES, TRIPS, EXHILARATING NEW EXPERIENCES, WINE, FOOD, TANNED RIPPED BODIES, HAPPY COUPLES, FRIENDS. Social media is on steroids during summertime. Is he or she posting anything? And did you remember to invite them?

I know these aren’t really good advises. If someone’s in pain a pool party isn’t going to help much. But sitting inside not being invited or noticed isn’t either. So let’s remember to remember that not everyone is as happy as you and may need a hand <3

Free the nipples, breasts -FREE IT ALL THIS SUMMER!

by  on  in Philosophy, The fashion, The life, The skin • 11 Comments

I actually wrote long ago I didn’t quite get the whole Free the nipple movement. I’ve always felt quite free in the breast- and nipple department, going to the beach topless for example. I stopped wearing a bra around sixteen.. In 2006. I remember people paying attention to it for a second, one person even called me Vici-nipple actually. But when you yourself treat something like a natural thing, not giving people the reaction they hoped to get out of you (never do -hold your ground), they soon lose interest and move on to the next subject.

(I’ve always written Vici btw, since I discovered this pattern of name-calling when I was four. So it’s always been Vici. Not Vicky, or anything else).

So I’ve never actually cared, therefore I didn’t get involved in the movement. I realize now everyone hasn’t been able to walk around so  freely. So Power to it, Free The Nipple!! I always felt I have the right to wear whatever I wanted, show just as much as I felt like. To love my breasts and everything about them. I also, still do, feel a sort of empowerment wearing something that accentuates them in a natural way. Be that something slightly see-through, something really tight, something loose fitted to let my perfectly natural shaped breasts chill the fuck out and breathe freely. You may experience some people having trouble keeping their eyes off of your breasts, with them hanging there freely and all, getting quite uncomfortable, not being able to stop staring at your natural and free nipples.. Something I personally really enjoy. People have been making me uncomfortable since I was sixteen.. Here’s my artillery, staring right back at ’em! But even though turning a head or two -keep at it! If that’s your chests’ and hearts’ desire, toss that bra! I know I’ve never looked back.

Anyways.. here’s a couple of pictures I think are beautiful as hell!

Ok I realize this last one, she is wearing some sort of bra here on her wedding day. But she’s SUCH a role-model and gets another picture. The fabulous, Hanne Gaby Odiele :

Flags risen and wieners consumed. Pop, pop, pop!

by  on  in The life • 14 Comments

17th of may.. Best day of the year. That and Christmas Day. And my birthday obviously. Basically any day one can celebrate from morning till bedtime.

17th’s special though, cause it’s the only day of the year where it’s perfectly respectable to dress up in your very best straight outta bed (preferably your national suit), drink champagne and have cake for breakfast. And we continue this celebration of ourselves and our fantastic fjords, glaziers, king and country until we fall asleep. It’s charming to the point of disgusting. You can only imagine thousands of daydrunk deteriorated vikings in our national suits (most expensive outfits ever -don’t get me wrong, they’re beautiful), singing national anthems, waving our little flags whilst queuing up for the mandatory legend of a sausage, the wienerpølse, before calling it a night at ten o’clock.

Love it.

Go, Norway!

I actually baked breakfast-rolls and made two cakes. No biggie. Because that’s what you do on the 17th.. You go big. You big out.

We kept it small this year -last year we hosted champagne-breakfast for twenty-two people. Which was fun. We broke in our new furniture which in hindsight I’m grateful I was tipsy for.. But I didn’t get to enjoy the morning as much and felt like I didn’t have a full ten minute sit-down or talk with anybody. So this year it was only us girls and, of course, our prince and hero. My husband.

How handsome is he?!

She’s not bad at all either.

This. Ah.. nothing like the first pop o’the day! First out of seriously six bottles. Shared! Obviously -it’s breakfast, jeez.

YES.

That’s all I managed to get from the day. Once the bottle’s popped, and all.. We had a great day though and ended up at the carnival in the rain, screaming happily for our lives through a deep, deep cava-haze. Obviously also had a big hot-dog before bed.

Did I mention we bought a car btw? Not in the same cava-haze, a different day. I’m dying of excitement and prepared to give up all fancy food (maybe not all) and champagne (cava still allowed) for a great period of time! Luckily I don’t have the habit of spontaneous large-quantities-of-fast-fashion-shopping, so that’s not an issue, thank the universe..! We’re picking it up on Wednesday and she’s just about everything we were hoping for! She’s a girl, obviously.

A girl with a temper. Like no one I know.

…

Alone together

by  on  in Philosophy, The life • 10 Comments

Today’s been a sixteen hour day of work. Feels good. Even managed to take a little care of myself at the end of it all, move my body a little bit. Take a shower. Before I dove into the peanut butter, tea that promised me more than anything has ever done, and my moms homemade rolls. The real kind of peanut butter. Fyi. Not the organic stuff. Tried that once and I’m never falling for their words, however seductive, anymore. I’ll have my peanut butter with too much salt and the wrong kind of oil thank you.

Anyways. It’s the first time I sat down today and look

how beautiful the sun is shining through my dirty glasses and in to my living room.

It’s been raining all day..

Even my jewelry-hanger is waving the sun goodbye before we turn our back to it.

I am so serene.

Seriously, I just typed ‘yoga music’ on youtube and hit play.

This calm makes me so happy I want to dance in this sassy little number. Summer edition of my.. huge pajamawear-wardrobe.

It’s weird how things get into your head though. How people get into your head. How they treat you. What they tell you.. How incredibly easy it is for it to get stuck. You start believing it. Maybe it stirred something up or pushed a sensitive spot. Even the things that we’ve gone through over and over and over in our heads we know isn’t true about ourselves. You build and build up your confidence and your ability to convince yourself otherwise. Hoping to learn how to shrug it off. Believe that your worthy of it. And then one person can tear it all down in a matter of seconds.

We wanna look so tough. So untouchable. We want to be so cool. Above it all. Tenacious. We want to acquire all these superpowers whilst appearing careless..!! You just happened to be that impenetrable, you didn’t work for it. Are you working for it? Why do you care? -just don’t care?

But we aren’t. None of us. We have to work at it. We are all working hard at it. I, for one, don’t know how often I have to remind myself this. It’s not cool not to show emotions. Be affected by others. It’s in our DNA to be affected by each other. Nobody want’s to be with cool. Cool won’t hug you, understand and listen to you. Cool doesn’t care. Cool is cold.

So, on this serene evening with myself, I remind myself of what’s been getting at me lately. How it’s ok to be affected by it. I accept this part of myself. This weakness in my armor. A little tear. I know why it affects me. And that’s ok. It doesn’t make it true, nor does it make me feel any better.., if anything I feel sad for the other party making others feel worse about themselves. I don’t want to make anybody feel worse about themselves.

Be kind to yourself. Be kind to the rest of us. Know that I’m not cool at all. I’ll listen if you need me to. We’re all in this alone together.

Money, money, money. Yes, yes, yes.

by  on  in Philosophy • 30 Comments

I never write about money (because it’s a stupid and cruel concept), except for the casual arrogant remark about not having more of it to indulge in stuff I like. Like traveling. Drinking champagne and eating fine foods. I clearly have enough to get by just fine. My life is wonderfully easy in that sense. I’ve never had a single cell in my body for saving money. I’ve always been an oatmeal for dinner – wine at restaurants with friends kind of person, because that gives me more pleasure! There is nothing wrong with that. That would be my choice, at that time.

The money I’ve earned I’ve always spent. Shared, never invested for later. I think it’s pretty clear I’m a living-in-the-present type of woman. In my mind I’m prepared for that tomorrow may never come. For any of us! So I make the most of it, what makes me happy. Today. When I have money, I spend it. When I don’t, I do stuff that’s for free. As long as I have my health, a place to stay and food to nourish my body money is just additional. Icing on the cake that is life. It might be a sad horrible cake, or a big juicy one, but that’s what we have to work with.

I hate money. I don’t care about money. Measuring us in the most senseless way where more gets more -less gets less. It’s a disgusting system we’ve created. I work harder than my husband (obviously he does too and worked bloody hard to get there) yet just texted him to send me bus-fare. But it’s choices, circumstances, opportunities and a bit of destiny. And for all the children born in horrible circumstances, for all the people that for some reason was robbed from whatever they had (be it freedom or possessions), that’s just horrible. Again money is measuring us in the most senseless ways. And to be blamed on the system that allows this to happen. So many assholes with money. So many good people without. What if money was given according to how good people we are. How kind and selfless we are.. I don’t like the way we do things. But that doesn’t mean we get to shame each other. We’re allowed to eat the juicy cake when presented to us. Maybe we’ve collected the ingredients over a long period of time through hard work, dedication and pain. Maybe it was given to us on a silver platter. We must all try to enjoy and appreciate it nevertheless without guilt.

We’re not lucky or unlucky. We just are in my opinion. Born into the circumstances we are. All we’re ever able to is to see things from our own perspective. We can educate ourself and we definitely should help and share when we have the ability to. All we can do is try to get by and enjoy life in any way we’re able to. And no-one ever, I’ve never come across such an individual, has “it all”.

I often have sleepless nights and the feeling of guilt because I can’t support myself alone in Norway with what I’m earning. At all. But I have it “easy”. My pride is always taking up way too much of my energy than necessary. But I have the opportunity to do what I do and live my life as I do. I was supposed to meet my husband, we share everything and all we wish for each other is a richer, more fulfilling life. That’s how I am able to do what I do for a living. It is what it is. Call me lucky, I call it a string of choices and destiny. I’m not going to apologize for that, neither should you.

In my opinion.

I probably wrote a lot of things others may find ignorant in this post that you can call me out on. Because you have a different point of view than I do. And that’s ok. But as long as there’s cake I’ll eat it.

Life would be so much more fun if we were all rich and crazy wasn’t inconvenient?

by  on  in Beauty, Philosophy, The life • 32 Comments

Turns out… On meds I’m only an average person. With an averagely amusing life. I’m fucking bored out of my mind. Talked to my husband about it, disappointingly he had nothing helpful to say besides welcoming me to his side. He’s been bored his entire life.

I need to fucking do something soon. Start a band or something. I know someone with a band and she’s never bored. She’s longing to be bored.

I’m not musical, though.. Maybe I could become a sommelier. Just casually. Become a master of the Wines. But then I’d have to drink with (and much less than) the people I would be speaking Wine in front of. And you don’t speak Wine, you drink it. So that’s out.

I honestly don’t know what to do with myself. Guess the reasonable thing would be to try to get used to this new way of life. Hike more. Cook more. Read more. Stuff I already enjoy.

Like work.

Aaah, still got the sense of humor, though. I’m not gonna work more.

Rather be sitting here in this magical lighting blogging about how my self-taught, home schooled  sommelier-education is going.

…

Ok, I’m laughing now. And yes, it’s past eight o’clock. Obviously I’m in my pajamas with that make-up free radiant face we all know so well from the commercials.

Enjoying the work that I’ve have been doing, though. But mostly I’m enjoying planning / dreaming of our honeymoon coming up in a couple of months. We’re not big planners really, took us like two months to plan the whole wedding. But we’ve started thinking about it. We’re thinking about driving.. My only concern with this plan (obviously his plan to start) was the lack of sexy in us arriving Italy by car. Our car. It’s a mitsubishi, something -whatever.

But we were gonna rent one and drive through Italy anyway, though.. So we decided to start looking for a new one. I know, we’re two big brats with shiny ball syndrome. But our car really is a boring car.. There it is’ again! Reasonable. Average. Family. Booooring. Ok family isn’t boring, but having a family-friendly car whilst being childless newly-weds is boring.

I haven’t been this excited about a car since the first time I saw Nicolas Cage riding Eleanor like Angelina in gone in sixty seconds.

God damn.

That is one sexy man in one sexy car.

(say what you will about Nicolas Cage -I love him and think he’s a spectacular actor)

We’re not getting a mustang though. That would be too unreasonable. And we’re not nearly as old to be acting that childish.

Point is. And here it is. Already struggling to listen to myself here.. We’ll just have to try harder. Pack a fucking picnic-basket with home-made whatever you like and invite a friend to the park. Whatever green’s close to you. Hike. Learn something new. Read. Make something, fucking paint! sew, build -whatever. I don’t know.. Learn MMA!

I seriously doubt I’ll do any of those things.

Maybe I’ll just get pregnant.

After the summer.

Curveballs and buttons in holes

by  on  in The life • 7 Comments

Always the brand new one.

So you scrape up the remains of what once promised to protect you, that didn’t touch the floor or sink. And remind yourself that nothing in life is certain and sometimes life throws you a curve ball and you suddenly have to step it up when you least expect it. This! Is small stuff. Laugh it off. Cover up that red shocked face with some floor.

Floorfoundation.

And this? This looks like a normal kitchendrawer basking in the sun. Open, hiding nothing.

It’s not. It’s not better than the rest of us.

It’s got secrets and shames involving crushed dreams, this time pancakes. Topped with maybe my least favourite smell.

Yolk.

But, hey, I’m woman enough for this shit. I’m not surprised over these things. That’s what you get out of twenty seven years of cutting corners being efficient as fuck.

And… it’s all good! I just spent three delightful perfect days in Oslo with my friend staying at one of the few hotels I really feel I belong at in Oslo, dis one. She’s also one of the few people I really feel I belong with.

Ugh, always the jacket. Always winter -never Christmas.

Now I’m gonna fill ma last holes in the littles ones dress with buttons and hooks. Before Oslo, again, tomorrow. What a domestic jetsetter I have become indeed. This dress will be a tick off my long list of stuff I have to do. So for a brief moment I’ll live my life like I’m done forever. I’m done with working and retire from everything.

For a brief moment.

So excited now that the holiday’s are over. A true freelancer’s life.

by  on  in The life • 7 Comments

ONE nice day in Bergen this easter. We ran immediately to the city and washed down some extremely average burgers with some not so great rosé. But what don’t you do for a nice rooftop on a day like that? Bergen has a limited outdoor-offer when it comes to restaurants..

Gee, that’s really not doing me any favors, the kissing thing? I never do the kiss in pictures. Because I’m not sixteen nor do I feel the need to behave in such a manner. I don’t know what hit me really. The rosé? A mild sunstroke?

Have to brag about this jacket. Can’t help it. It’s Alexander McQueen and it’s very very expensive. I didn’t pay for it, obviously. It wasn’t even a gift intended for me. But for now, let’s say that it’s mine and I can afford shit like that.

You’d think it was warm but it’s not. Wind blowing straight up and in past your private parts.

Me walking away from those facts.

I really need to go to the shoemaker..

My husband. He loves the sun just as much as I do.

I have a really exciting week ahead of me!

Working on a dress for the little one for a very special concert coming up in Oslo.

Shooting two of the coolest artists Scandinavia has to offer, styled by me in Fårikål outfits.

A trip to Oslo on Wednesday for a couple of days to visit a very dear friend of mine..

Yay! Then it doesn’t matter if the sun shines or not. It won’t. I checked.

ROSACEA

by  on  in The skin • 14 Comments

Did you know.. Rosacea is a quite common inflammatory skin disorder and affects five to ten percent of the worlds population? And there is no cure! Just “hot” tips like avoiding cold and hot weather; big changes in temperature. Wind. Fun dietary stuff like spicy food, chocolate and alcohol. No hot baths (temperature changes). No hot beverages for that matter. Definitely a temperature themed list, this. No sweating, long showers ar any kind of contact involving your skin and.. anything really. Including the sun. Mental health issues. Stress.

Living, basically, makes your rosacea worse.

LOL.

I only avoid one of these so-called triggers. Spicy food. It pretty much makes my face lit up like a Christmas tree just thinking about it.

I can imagine this being a bigger issue with people with fairer, paler skin living up north. And can get really really bad! Have you ever seen those older men with big red lumpy noses? Chances are he’s likely to have rosacea. Really bad rosacea, rhinophyma, but there are different stages. I have stage 1-2 rosacea. And going to that dermatologist for the first time was a huge relief. So check it out if you’re wondering. You can get better and should treat it.

Throwing in a picture that doesn't really show a rosacea outbreak, but still seemed relevant.

I’ve tried laser treatment, antibiotics, various creams and cleansers, beta blockers to slow down heartbeat therefore blushing, soaps; everything in the house (I’m talking vinegar and citrus to clean around the house) that comes in contact with skin and/or airways is without perfume and other stuff we know ain’t good for us. My deodorant has perfume. There. I said it. But that’s it.

BUT! Nothing’s worked. No wonder really, the amount of stress I experience every day. My blushing has become such an issue for me I can’t even imagine walking out the door without a heavy coat of foundation. The thick kind, not this bb/cc cream shit. So no one would guess that I had it. And there’s a direct link I might add, just sprinkle it on the top of the icing of this beautiful flaring cake, between rosacea, depression and social anxiety. Which is awesome.

 

BUT! AGAIN! I tried another dermatologist a few months ago, and started a new skin line treatment which includes seven fucking steps and practically ruined me financially (can’t put a prize on happiness, ey?). But I have a good feeling about this! Your skin cycle is six weeks, and for optimal results it’ll take five months of treatment every day. I know from experience that everything seems the darkest before light, and I’m currently in that stage where my skin is peeling (like after sunburns etc?), burning like you wouldn’t believe, a couple of welcomed zits made their way the other day, and everything feels.. tight! That’s a good word for it. Tight. And painful. But I’m in good spirits! If I can feel the fresh air on naked skin at the end of this in public without dying of shame I’ll be even happier than my happiest self. And will celebrate by dragging a hot tub out in the cold wind with people watching, with a glass of alcohol and a bar of chocolate after a really intense workout.

The temporary symptoms means something is happening, though! A positive attitude, I believe, is very important here also. Try…try to accept my blushing. I need not be perfect. Perfection involves blushing.

Here’s the products I’m currently using

ZO Medical, by dr. Zein Obagi.

World renowned dermatologist and possible lifesaver. I’m counting on you, Zaobagi. Gogabiz. Zegabo. Zozo.

To all, rosacea victims or not, ALWAYS remember to take care of your skin. Cleanse, moisturize, handle gently and always use sun screen. Basically only psoriasis really benefits from the sun. So protect it. Happy skin – Happy peoples!

Easter-princess. In balance.

by  on  in The life • 5 Comments

I’m working. How depressing. In the holidays. Which is typical me. Because I can never do anything before I’m forced to by deadlines holding me at gunpoint.

But it’s fine! As my eternally positive husband stated earlier today; we’re so lucky to be able to do stuff when everyone else is working!

True.

But I’m a millennial and therefore convinced that the world is against me, it is hard and I deserve better.

That said.. My medicine is working it’s magic and it seems my body has finally accepted them. As apposed to treating it as hostile foreign objects trying to steel my personality. Which is fantastic! I’m happy, things are easier. I feel lighter. It feels right, and life isn’t so hard anymore. It’s absolutely terrifying. And I can, for the first time in my life, understand why people go off them. Obviously not going to, but life is more boring on this side. I miss the feeling of being on a high (which is what we remember, right -the good stuff, never the bad. Stupid hoomans), and am seriously considering drugs. I’m joking, obviously. But you only know what I’m talking about have you ever had a day like that. But I’ll settle for normal and healthy balance! For now. Haha, joking.

Or am I..?

I am.

Anyway, I’ve worked all day, and am presently enjoying some holiday-like behavior. (Notice easter-candles and easter-socks knitted by my grandmother)

Obviously reading Victoria. You know, that other princess?

 So.. this was boring. Book’s not, this post! But that’s my life now. That’s me now. Like that bunny filter on snapchat.

Knowing myself I’m sure I’ll manage to feel euphoria and get in trouble again.

Happy easter! Do like this boring but balanced broad and read a book. Drink some red. Eat some candy.

(I would’ve dropped mic here, but am no longer on a stage, therefore not holding one)

At least we know when the week ends and the weekend begins

by  on  in Beauty, The fashion, The life • 6 Comments

Stockholm, you’re so beautiful!! The beautiful historic buildings and streets makes me wanna live there. Or at least tear one up and put it in the ground over here.

Like this place. This door.

With a hairdresser in my courtyard.

Not that one needs one when the hotel’s giving barber’s cuts for free. Obviously me and the little one took advantage of this to trim our shaved bits. Not our pits. She went first obviously. I joined her after two breakfast-mimosa’s like a scared child needing someone to hold her hand.

BUT! The barber ended up giving me a full fresh amazing haircut!! I just couldn’t be happier!

LOOK!

HOW HAPPY I AM!

No. but I was though. And celebrated with another mimosa before entering the ice cold but sunny and friendly Stockholm.

Luckily had this possy with me.

We don’t really know each other.

And with ma new cut and ma new sunglasses..

I can honestly say I almost felt completely confident.

(I know, so cool and all, but these are the first glasses over like a hundred bucks I’ve ever bought! Jokes, my husband did. What am I, made out of money?)

I know, btw, that’s not the “politically correct” (as you call everyone out on anything they say over there somewhere) way of using the term “jokes”. But I’ll do it anyway. I like it! And it goes great with a little snort á la agent Hart in my head when I write it.

(If you know the reference, you know. Google can’t save you here.)

Here’s another one of me. Expressing how little I care.

They care, on the other hand. About each other <3

What?! Fucking cute.

Then again so are we sometimes.

HAPPY!

As my jeans clearly states for themselves.

Oh, and we also saw the great Bob, for the second time. I cried. Mostly for the wrong reasons. And that’s all I have to say about that.

Seriously though can’t wait for spring. As much as love this coat, I can’t fucking wait to get out of it.

I don’t know where I end and it starts anymore..

Laying the groundworks for infinite champagne and cake

by  on  in Beauty, The fashion, The life, The skin • 5 Comments

Bergen is today providing another perfect excuse to go away for a long weekend with my family.

So fucking stoked.

AND the three of us are divided between two rooms. My husband is joining us for one night due to work. Thank The Universe !

I’m traveling lightly. Airline norwegian is being a fucking bitch again charging all of my money for luggage besides carry-on. So! only carry-on for moi. Which I’m freaking a little bit out about. Not that I’m one of those people who bring entire wardrobe, squeezed in like emergency options together with ten of it’s family members. No. I am not. I just want them to be able to breathe. Because I only bring the really good stuff when I’m going away. Not the shit that’s been lying around three moves ago.

One must definitely not bring garments like this one though. The best of stuffs.

-the most special ones you love so so much, people with children wouldn't even recognize that kind of love

Which I wore last Saturday to this fabulous spot’s Champagne-lunches, Bien Bar.

What’s also fabulous is this interview VG -Min Mote did.

dis one right here

Another fabulous thing that happened last weekend is the little one gave me these shoes.

Wouldn’t have bought them myself, but I like them. She bought them because who has the strength to walk away from a good bargain? Plus she has freakishly small feet. She’s what that best friend in Pretty Woman would call Cinde-fucking-rella.

My feet on the other hand – very normal.

I therefore have quite the high hopes for this weekend.

Calling all forces initiating Process to perfection. We’re talking washing. Scrubbing. Trimming. Cutting. Sculpting. Spackling. Painting.

Moisturizing.

When I have time I want to feel as ready for anything possible when going on holiday. There’s also the fact that a holiday is also a temporary demise of your temple of a body. So you wanna even things out a bit -prepare a certain quota, if you will. (I’m a control freak, we’ve established this, and I have a problem)

I drink a lot of champagne, okay. I need to start hydrated.

Have a FABULOUS WEEKEND !!!

Or not.

Netflix is my best friend as well.

Hold on to your hats, she’s going rogue

by  on  in Beauty, Philosophy • 12 Comments

I recently broke up with my psychologist..

You know when you’ve sucked that chewed-up straw in your third daiquiri for so long making that horrible annoying sound, there’s just nothing left, and you’re just forced to go get a new man go get you a new one?

Nothing like that.

That is totally objectifying and I take it back.

No, but part of it actually is that I’ve used that relationship for what it was worth. We had a certain tone that suited me at a certain time. I need a different tone now. Or no tone for a while! I’m sick of trying, but not seeing the effect that I need. So it’s over.

Which is fine, because he couldn’t understand the root of my anxiety. I wasn’t able to explain (actually I did but he didn’t get it) my anxiety clearly (I did).

The silk gloves are off. You’re fired and I’m taking over the wheels.

And I’ve been thinking a lot. About one of the main issues causing my anxiety. My whole life I’ve been ‘told’ about my physical appearance. I remember very early in my life being aware of how I looked. I was never one of those girls in princess dresses, so I know I didn’t feel the need to look a certain way. On the contrary I always cut my hair in an as-short-as-my-mom-would-let-me-bob and dressed in clown patterned suits rather than dresses!

I was told how skinny I was and that I should drink full fat cream, how big brown and beautiful my eyes were, what a beautiful smile I had and that I should use it more often.. Of course this just followed me and excelled the older I got. Feedback when I gained some weight, how my tits started to fill out my tiny bra nicely, how I should become a model, stop smoking -a beautiful girl like you. This constant feedback.

Men seemed to like how I looked. Which was great. I was always popular, had boyfriends. Even older guys would flirt with me before I knew what flirting was! I thought they were making fun of me, I remember it very clearly. But all of this was fun, if anything else embarrassing, never a bad thing.

Then I hit 15. A lot was happening that reshaped my life, but suddenly this attention became a burden. I don’t know how to explain myself without sounding like a total narcissist. I felt that I had to live up to this image, this persona created in the eyes of others that was never supposed to define or shape me and the paths I chose. It’s sad to say it did to the extent it did. For the first time in my life I felt ugly. I developed an eating disorder and started abusing alcohol and drugs just to stand myself and my life. I was disgusted by myself. All the other things I used to define myself as, all my qualities, my skills and treasures, were lost to me. As if they never even existed. Over night I was nothing but my physical appearance. And I hated it.

Now, this is awful. It’s awful the read, it’s awful to write. And today I’m mostly not disgusted and actually am quite happy with the way I look. I just haven’t reached the finish-line, but I’m on the right path towards it.

I am beautiful.

And we love hearing that, don’t we? People getting over their shame and self-hatred, starting off the day with that affirmation in the mirror until they believe it

“I’m beautiful. I am beautiful. I AM BEAUTIFUL !!”

That’s my issue still though. I am, again, defining my strength and self-love on how I feel about my physical appearance that day. So I will never get over that part, which holds the other parts in it’s hands, that carries my anxiety. Thus, my life! It’s all very discouraging. I can’t even look a man in the eyes without entering his brain and judge every inch of my face and body. Burning from blushing from thinking over any possible thought he must have of me, scared to death he’s actually going to comment on any of it. Fucking killing him in my mind when he comments on what he sees as blushing from the compliment he just gave me, when I’m really raging over how he dares address my physical appearance rather than my presence.

It’s all very unfair. It’s a privileged illness social anxiety. But countless bottles of wine I drink with my girl friends reassuring ourselves that we  don’t need ANY man’s or woman’s approval and that we are BEAUTIFUL no matter what, and we DON’T CAAARE what other people think!,

it doesn’t change the fact that I can’t meet anyone without my body reacting as if death was around the corner. And that death will see how ugly I am.

My looks never concerned me before it was the first thing people defined me for. All I can do now is, and I encourage you to do the same, build up those treasures left behind. Like my creativity. My leadership skills. My physical strength. This special skill set I’ve developed during these years working on myself! They’re amazing, some of the truths I’ve discovered!! Sharing those. Shedding some light on the truth that your physical appearance is such a small part of who you are. It feels, in today’s society, a lot bigger. It really isn’t. You will be much happier if you put your time and effort into the other parts that make you you. Your mind has so much to discover about you. And slowly, you won’t even know the ship is moving, your focus will shift. A little bit.

I for one can only hope that I one day will worry about how the people around the table judge my actual work when I’m presenting it for them. Not my ability to convince them I’m beautiful.

When left with no choice, just survive.

by  on  in Philosophy, The life • 4 Comments

I forgot to post the other day about how I experienced the Launch-day. I’m now quite over it and don’t remember nor feel the need to dwell over it. That’s something I love about myself,  my psychologist not so much. My ability to ignore, suppress and forget my emotions <3

But why linger? The launch-day was excruciating. Now it’s over and I survived. I’m so used to days like that I no longer even fear them. And what’s anxiety without fear? Just painful. Like my wedding-day! You face the fact that you can A) die. Or B) plow through. Dying seems like such a final decision, so you plow through. And most times, you’ll get through. The others you walk away from midst. That’s also fine, you’re likely to survive that too. Nothing is that important you’ll end up ruining your life because of it. Your makeup might have migrated towards your chest leaving your face all blotchy looking like a map post global warming, eyes like a chihuahua on speed, screaming like a crazy person bumping into EVERYTHING possible bumping into.. My hip is still bruised and that bump in my head I got from closing the car-door on myself just now evened out. It’s a shitty shitty thing inside you to be feeling, panic anxiety, but it will pass.

Then you sleep for many days. Stop tequilaing. Turn off your phone. Switching from lying in bed by yourself, and socializing with the people you trust from your favourite spot in the sofa in front of the tv. Treating yourself. Wearing only your softest of garments. It’s nice. Never ever feel guilty about prioritizing yourself.

I hug and forgive myself whenever I can.

I am now over that stage. And have entered the Getting back in the world again! Which I have. Twice actually. One celebratory dinner at Colonialen with the first one, then last night at Lysverket with the other one.

Not as high stamina as Pre-Fårikål, wine hitting me like it did when I was 19 (obviously didn’t have class enough to drink wine earlier than that)

,but happy.

Today I’m also doing nothing. Moving back to my parents for a couple of days. Watching a movie.

Have a peaceful Sunday. And if you can’t, you’ll survive that too. Maybe next Sunday.

FÅRIKÅL -CLOSER- LAUNCH pt. 1

by  on  in Beauty, The fashion • 10 Comments

The feeling of anticipation. The anticipation in others to see something you’ve created.

It’s really a privileged feeling.

Obviously one is backstage and don’t see any of it. But you feel it. The laughs outside. The champagne being popped. That hint of crisp air you’ve been craving all day forced under the crack of your backstage door as a result of people pouring in on the other side. The door that, for now, hides the secrets of your inner universe that has been your life for months. Occupying your thoughts and dreams for months.

The involuntary stress that causes you to order your models around like an aggressive male in charge of the navy seals recruitment. Lining them up.. -Go, go, GO!!!

The adrenaline you feel.

Those shoes you want. Aurlandskoen

Followed by the humble, highly awkward moment of a thank you afterwards. I really thought my new Isabel Marant top would elevate my confidence a little bit. At least combined with all the champagne of my prior consumption backstage.

They totally failed me. And left me dying.

With my team Stine Malene Foss Berge and Iben Bergstrøm, despitecolor.blogspot.no <3

Photo: Stian Servoss

I am currently still recovering and don’t expect anything of myself till at least the end of the week.

TODAY WE ROCKETTOTHESKYYY

by  on  in Beauty, The fashion, The life, Uncategorized • 8 Comments

Got up at six today, not that that’s alarmingly early these days, but I actually got a really good nights sleep.

Probably mostly from exhaustion. But there’s not much I wouldn’t do for a good nights sleep nowadays.. Plus I’m also reading in bed now before dozing off. A great way to go. To sleep.

Reading Victoria.

Obviously.

I am a queen.

Last night I put the last buttons in all ma holes and packed my suitcases for today.

Followed by a rare moment my husband caught on camera.

This face.

It’s unbelievable how much help I’ve gotten from the people in my life. I feel so very lucky. I am lucky. But I feel especially humble today. I’ll either cry or put a wall up.. Either one is fine, equally tiring. The one only postponing the other.

Wish me luck, meet you on the other side! So much love for the uplifting words here and on IG, know that it means so very much to me <3

drop mic, I’m out.

no? too far?

CLOSER

by  on  in Beauty, The fashion, The life • 13 Comments

OMG I’M GETTING SO EXCITED !!!

Friday, in two days, TWO SLEEPS: we’re shooting the collection. Then another SEVEN SLEEPS till

FÅRIKÅL Launch Party -AW17 Collection; CLOSER

It’s basically there^^

Lurking in the background

It’s, as anybody who ever created something (be that a masterpiece carefully composed in kindergarten it took forever to dry in the drying-room, or a  beat that’ll kill on the dance floor), terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.

I’M IN LABOUR AND ABOUT TO PRESENT MY BABY TO THE WORLD !!

Everyone knows that feeling.

It’s awesome.

And when you reveal that shit; you don’t be afraid..! You stand tall and know that it is Great! Because it’s the only sample in the world there is. And it is you. And you know something and have felt something that no-bo-dy else has.

It is unique.

I seldom regret anything. My body may own a feeling or memory of regret, but in my mind I never allow myself to regret. Something I said about another person when they weren’t listening, a bad outfit, my reckless behavior those nights I drink like a sponge ( I’ve definitely seen a pattern of flashing whilst drunk..), how I used to do my makeup (Wow, that changes quickly -wtf was I thinking?!), some embarrassing post I posted when I started blogging (or, you know, last week..), a bad picture. -Like it or not, It’s all you! Don’t resist it.

And especially about the things we say.. You can’t regret any of that.. Because you wanna be prepared if people decide to confront you. I gather I’m allowed to every opinion I have! Because it’s all based on my emotions and knowledge at the time. You cannot expect people not to be honest and having made an opinion based on the information they’ve gathered? And the people who don’t get that.. maybe they’re not worthy of staying. Fuck ’em.

Like just now, I don’t know if I could use the term gather there. But who cares? I think it sounds great. Fabulous actually. Royal, even.

(That said, never talk in a negative way about the things people didn’t choose. If they were born with it – leave it.)

One thing I wasn’t born with ( smooth transition? ) ; this Fish-leather Choker. I absolutely love it.

Order on demand after launch.

Oh, and last weekend was probably the last party before the launch. So I went all out. In my bra.

The hibernation continues! Backstage photos from the shoot some time in the course of the weekend !