The first one never leaves

First loves... They distract you, they never go away, and they keep reappearing. Wether it's a memory, a street, a name, a piece of gum, a sock or a phrase in a piece of music, you'll find yourself related to that first love, even though you try so hard to just let it slip. You can fight it all you want, and keep telling yourself little lies, but lies never work, they get discovered, and all of a sudden you're faced with facts you cannot control, deny or escape from. It's like the darkness, you're not afraid when you're out, but when inside, all alone in the dark, it freaks you out.
Mark Twain once said: "In love, you pay, when you leave" --> cause either you regret you left, or you're so hurt by the other person, and then the hurt turns into hatred, and hatred never leaves.
What is it with first loves, wether it's a car, a man/woman, a pen, some food or artwork - why are they stuck? Why can't they just get the fuck out, so that, when the opportunity for a second, third or fourth or 25'th love can look you in the eyes, and you can return the look?
It seems that most human-beings only love what they do not have.... I might be one of them?!

Francois Nars

Nars, Nars, oh mr. Nars. how you do create dreamy looks!! And, for after 15 years, you still continue to do so! In that occasion, mr Francois has chosen to combine his two passions - photography and make-up, in a book called 15 x 15.

New Sneakers, a pendant and some Japanese Music - Ryuichi Sakamonto

TASCHEN TASCHEN TASCHEN, ÅHH DIE TASCHEN

Rasmus Krath

As a true magazine-nerd, I get almost every danish fashion magazine thru my door each month. And the magazines that seems to draw most of my attention are not the fashion-ones neither the ones for fashionable women, they're the ones for men. In my long journey looking for interesting reading material, I find that magazines for women are so humiliating for women, it's either, "how to drop ten pounds in one week", "do this, and he'll like you" or "look, the biker-chick look is back." Also, they only have female models on their front-page, whereas most magazines for men, have a personality, someone you know thru the media, or someone you can relate to in one way or the other, on the front-page. The journalism in these women-magazines is boring, there are never any interesting stories about how 'dangerous' a certain lifestyle can be, it feels as if the people behind these magazines are creating a cinderella-story behind their readers' eyes, instead of mixing reality with dreams. Maybe I'm completely wrong, maybe most women urge for an hour on the couch, dreaming about a pair of Choos that costs 10.000 DKR? I don't know... However, what I do know is that I was so extremely inspired about the article in newest version of EUROMAN (december 2009 issue), about a young man named Rasmus Krath, who has devoted his life to travelling. Not to bounty-islands, but to the places in the world that are so broken by actions made by human-beings.
I find myself sitting in front of my computer, wondering why I wonder about what pair of new boots I want, instead of saying FUCK that, that is most certainly NOT what life is about..! Rasmus Krath, I am a fan!!

In love

"I work in the dead of night
When the world's quiet, no one is around
Track my moves, racing the yellow lights
To find the gate is open, she's waiting in the room
I just step on through
You get in, you get done and then you get gone
You never leave a trace, or show your face, you get gone
Should've turned around and left before the sun came up again
But the sun came up again
Enter the morning light
To find the day is burning the curtains and the wine
In a little white room
Though I'm not alone, her head is heavy on me
She's sleeping like a child
What could I do
You get in, you get done and then you get gone
You never leave a trace, or show your face, you get gone
Should've turned around and left before the sun came up again
But the sun came up again
I was a killer, was the best they'd ever seen
I'd steal your heart before you ever heard a thing
I'm an assassin and I had a job to do
Little did I know that girl was an assassin too
Suddenly I'm in over my head and I can hardly breathe
Suddenly I'm floating over her bed and I feel everything
Suddenly I know exactly what I did, but I can not move a thing
And suddenly I know exactly what I've done
And what it's gonna mean to me, mean to me
I'm gone
I was a killer, was the best they'd ever seen
I'd steal your heart before you ever heard a thing
I'm an assassin and I had a job to do
Little did I know that girl was an assassin too"

Cravings!

Carhart, Won Hundred, Stine Goya, Wood Wood, Solea, MJ, Sonia Rykiel, Tinto Tearra and stuff, I want/need to own!

Going In For The KIll // La Roux

The least initial deviation from the truth is multiplied later a thousandfold

A cat, is a cat, is a cat, as well, as a dog is a dog, is a dog! However, is there a surface underneath the cat that's a cat, that's a cat or the dog who is a dog, who is a dog? Complex situations often shows if one is really telling the truth or not, which leaves me to wonder, when are we ever really honest? And what defines honesty? When looking at this cat, what you see is an animal, a furry one, with a tail, who looks at you, who wants to play with you, but deep down, you know it will, and can switch to the direct opposite in a heartbeat. So, yes, the cat has a hidden agenda, no matter its intentions when it looks at you..!
I can't help but stumble across why the catwalk, is called a catwalk... - so much beauty, so much talent, so much creativity, yet, what are they hiding? What are we so afraid to see? "Sex is full of lies. The body tries to tell the truth. But, it's usually too battered with rules to be heard, and bound with pretenses so it can hardly move. We cripple ourselves with lies."

Hedi - the Jedi!

ICH BIN EIN BERLINER