Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas..... and a Whole Bunch Of Other Things.

So. Hi.

I know it's a bit early, but I have got to be a little ahead of the curve of course:

C H R I S T M A S

It's all over. Already. In inner Copenhagen, the Christmas lights are out on the streets. Hanging between the buildings are big red heart and glowing yellow stars, illuminating the paths of the freeeeeezing Danes and tourists. In the windows of the shops, there are decorations galore: teddybears in Christmas hats, variations of Santa and his elves all around, "Winter Wonderland" displays with snow, glitter and (my favorite) Christmas merchandise. It's the time of the Christmas Wish List.

Here is mine! Just a note: these are the things I would wish for if I could have any of the (material) things that I wanted! Don't worry -- I will never get all of this, haha.

I want him! I wonder if he would consider being my personal sex-slave? ;)

Doesn't this soft khaki jacket from Abercrombie look absolutely fabulous?

 

I can't decide between these two shirts from A&F! They're both pretty awesome, I think.

A gift certificate from amazon.co.uk is a standard wish from me, I'm afraid. I can never seem to get enough music! It's perfect for me with a discreet certificate for 100£ ........ hehehe.

From American Apparel, I would love to own this cosy hoody in the color "Forest".

This sheer black shirt from Cheap Monday can be bought in  both Cheap Monday, Urban Outfitters, and Weekday. And I love it.

OMG. I touched these awesomely cute slippers in Topshop today, and died from softness. Why hasn't it occured to me before, that I simply must own a pair of poofy, soft white slippers???

The Book "Fragments" is a collections of "poems, intimate notes and letters", all written by Marilyn Monroe. I read a long article and a preview about it -- I think it sound really good. I have always respected her as a woman.

While surfing on Urban Outfitters' internet page for cute winter stuff, I found these -- adorable, right?

Henrik Vibskov weekend bag. Need I say more?

Boxset of "How I Met Your Mother" seasons 1-5. Its awesomeness speaks for itself. But where is season 6?

Apple dock for my iPod classic -- I have been desperately wanting for it to be hooked up to my stereo for some time now. This is the solution. Bless you, Apple!

Classic Apple headset for said iPod classic. I annihilated my first pair recently (the whole thing split apart in three ways at the bottom) so I'm lusting for a new pair. Can you believe that they cost 300 kr. a piece? 

Extremely fabulous rock-and-roll khaki jeans from Topshop.

Beautiful cuff bracelet from Urban Outfitters. Found it on their website. I think it belong perfectly in my wardrobe, thank you!

Extern blitz for my camera. Two reasons: a) I can take better pictures with a flash, and b) I can make my camera look like a Transformer!

A- to the -mazing cape-type-thingy from Topshop. Also found this on their webshop, and scouted it out in their real-life store today. Unfortunately, it is the "Tall" department, so I will be able to wear this particualr garment when hell freezes over. Did I mention that I am short, by the way?

Uuuuuuh. Aaaaah. So prettyyyyyy. Boots from Urban Outfitters.

Is a faux fur in a leopard pattern from UO too much for me? I don't know. But I love it, for some reason!

Hm. My friend has this cardigan in a cream-color...... Oh well! I like it anyway.

Absolutely adorable cream-colored sweater from Urban Outfitters.

Drool. You belong to meeeeeeeeeee! Awesome rock-and-roll style bag from UO.

Aren't these tights awesomely Christmas'ly cute??? Also from UO.

Mmmmh. This looks like a nice bathrobe to curl up in on a cold winter morning. And it's even in that fabric, which they always use to make those ludicrously soft socks! From H&M.

Aaaaah. The Jeffrey Campbell Lolita boot. Aaaaaaah. Just think how tall I would look in these babies!

 

It doesn't have to be from this specific brand -- but a baseball jacket, preferrably in this lucious burgundy, I shall have!

That's all for just now. I hoped you enjoyed watching me splurge in my mind!

Thanks for listening,

I Am Roseberry.

Where Is He - Where??

So. Hi.

I have made about a million attempts of finding a soulmate. Yuk - another word, please? Lover. Boyfriend. Friend. Accuaintance. I don't know - someone to make me happy. I have a firm belief, that there exists someone for me. For all of us - there has got to be at least one person out there, that will make you truly happy and fuzzy and warm and all those stupid emotions described in chick-flicks. It's the least we could ask, for there to be just one person out there, for us, that fits us perfectly, and will love us, and make us one half of a whole.

There simply must be that man, that can make the hardcore feminist boss-lady in the big firm want to kiss and cuddle and forget all her ideals.

There must be a little lady for the constructionworker on the side of the road, a girl he longs to come home to and share a dinner of steak and potatoes with.

Surely there must be a special guy for the sweet, clearly gay little teacher at my school -- someone who can make him just as frantic with excitement as he becomes, when he talks about physics.

Are we crazy to think that true love really exists for all of us? Have we gone nuts from listening to all the great love stories in the world, romantisizing how love really occurs?

For me, I don't know. In all the books and movies, it's obvious to the person observing the two characters, that they are completely right for each other, or that the girl should just dump that dumb guy who doesn't love her, and take her sweet best friend instead. I can't count how many million times I have read a book and have thought: "No, bitch! Not him, don't kiss him, it's all wrong, don't you dare choose him over him!"... Of course, in stories we all know, that we can't have our happily ever after until the very end. At the start of the book/movie, we can almost guess which character will end up with who, what mistakes they'll make, that they will indeed make up and marrie each other at the end.

But how do we know? In real life, that is? How do we know, when the happily ever after has come? When we've finally hooked up with the right person? If happily ever after's work according to manuscript, you can't meet this guy until the very end - but how long do you have to wait? Does this mean, that you can't find true love at 18? 15? 11? 6? And, if we don't notice our Prince Charming while we're with him, are there more than one possible happily ever after for each person?

I hope he's out there somewhere. At some point, I might have the luck to meet him. I have to believe that I will. On the other hand, If I never do meet him, I can always tell myself, that he simply must be out there. The next date, the next boyfriend - he'll be the one. What is there to believe in, otherwise? Single guys with bad breath, bad jokes, bad clothes, bad hair-cuts and bad attitude? There must at least excist one nice, cool, handsome, well-dressed, friendly, funny, straight guy in the universe. There must be such a man for each woman. That's what I think. He's got to be out there.

But where is he - where??

Why love if losing hurts so much? We love to know that we are not alone.

- C. S. Lewis

Thanks for listening,

I Am Roseberry

Reminiscing

So. Hi. 

 

Am I the only person that sometimes wishes that I could go back to the old days, and see what they were like? I'm talking about the 50's and 60's mainly, not the stone-age. Just for a day -- to see if everything was as great as I imagine it was.

It would probably go a little something like this:

It's the year 1959. Just thought I'd pop into this time for a visit. The late 50's remind me of that little souvenir-town, you don't quite believe exists, until you actually see it.

Currently, I am sitting at a little milkshake café. And it's completely, ridiculously, like the one in "Grease"! I'm sporting a pink, icnognito-in-the-50's dress, and a pink strawberry milkshake to match it – but people are looking at me funny anyway. I don't feel like I fit in here. Of course, I asked for a pen and a pad of paper – the internet reception is horrible back here. Every now and then, I have to stifle a giggle, when I see any of the young men approaching me. They have their hair slicked back, are wearing jeans, white T-shirts, and the typical black leather Jacket, à la Danny Zuko! I love it here. Also, these Zuko look-alikes have been chatting me up all afternoon – I guess boys are uncontrollable even in the late 50's.

The milkshake café grows silent, as the radio comes with an indistinct message from Vietnam.  I had actually forgotten about it – I feel almost ashamed. I mean, everybody's here, everybody's at home, happy, old-fashioned... Well, I guess, not everybody's home. Some people lower their heads in respect. The radio doesn't bring good news, and it is a while before the cherry atmosphere returns to the café. I feel like I'm imposing on some great sorrow.

After paying for my milkshake – which cost me exactly 15 cents! – I ducked out into the cool, summer air.

On the street, I spot a lot of people. The ladies here are dressed just like, well, ladies. It's amazing to watch. They have the funniest hair back here. Though it looks like something out of an old commercial, I kind of like it. Maybe our women of 2010 could learn a thing or two?

The men are wearing hats, suits, and a smoking cigar is a common accessory. I wish I knew someone back here. I could visit a family... see if they really look like something out of a postcard, sitting around the fire place, the father reading the paper, the mother strutting around in her poofy dress and elegant little shoes. Do they really do that here? I get to think about Vietnam again, about the soldiers: the fathers and brothers and sons sent out to battle. There are definitely things from the 50's and 60's that I would like not to see.

I am ripped from my sad thoughts by a typical group of young girls screaming: "Elvis! Elvis!! I love this song! He is just so handsome!"

I think instantly of the scene in "Grease", where Rizzo moans: “Elvis! Elvis! Let me be! Keep that pelvis far from me!”

A car rolls near the sidewalk. It is a gang of young men sitting in their convertible car, again à la Danny Zuko and his gang in their Greased Lightning. I love this time.

The 50’s were pretty cool, or at least, that’s what I will allow myself to think, after fantasizing about this trip to the past. Moving on to the 60’s now, after having seen enough of those good old 50’s.

I’m in some random teenager’s bedroom. Posters are scattered aimlessly on the wall – The Doors, The Rolling Stones, The Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, and Bob Dylan. I’m in the 60's, and The Rolling Stones are just becoming a hit. A record player is on the floor next to us, where we are flipping listlessly through magazines, which we have nicked from our mothers. My magazine has Twiggy on the cover, we “uuh!” and “aah!” at her figure. The record spits out a scratchy tune, “Honky Tonk Woman” by The Rolling Stones. The young girls squeal and swoon over the dirty, dirty lyrics, and Mick Jagger's, filthy big mouth. Finally free from their mothers’ protective shield, they let loose, and start doing the Twist on the floor. Smoke billowing from the cigarette of one of the more rebellious girls’ hands, we twist and shout and do the Pony, the Swim.

 

Out on the street, the ladies are still ladies, and the ladies still men. The women resemble Twiggy, or at least they try to – elegance is still the code word here. Well, it is if you ask the grown-ups. It’s a completely different matter, if you ask the young people. Gone are the Danny Zuko’s. They have been replaced with dudes with long hair and a goofy look on their faces. A young couple walk next to each other in front of me, and, viewed from the back, I can’t really see who’s the man and who’s the woman. Go unisex!

We follow the crowd to a hippie, anti-Vietnam-war rally – yeah, my friends are hippies. Or maybe we even go to Woodstock! The possibilities are endless – fight the power, dude! Sit on a patchwork blanket in the sun, humming aimlessly along to the songs of Hendrix, Dylan, the Beatles, passing a joint to a waiting hand. Yeah, I would go all out as a hippy! I’m wearing awesome clothing by the way. I have long, straight hair, and I’m wearing some sort of scarf around my head. Moccasins. A flowery shirt. I look groovy – like some of those surreal photos you see of your parents sometimes, where you find yourself thinking “Geez, she really was young once!”

Peace out, man. Chill.

I know I have no right to say this, but I think that the 60's was my favorite time. And I know that I OF COURSE wasn't alive to see those times. But I think they sound amazing anyway.

Even though those times sound cool – and YES, they really do – I kind of like where I am right now. 2010 baby, it’s a whole new era to my mind! It’s the only one I’ve known, it’s fresh, it’s new and yet so familiar. Yes, I bet that the 50’s were great. I bet that sitting at a milkshake café looking at boys resembling Danny Zuko was awesome. And I doing the twist in your room to a scratched Rolling Stones record with your hippie friends would have been possibly even more awesome. I like having these little daydreams, and putting myself in another situation than I am now – another time. But my time, 2010, where “Sex and the City” is my bible, and where fashion, style, music and life in general is a free-for-all frenzy… I think it’s pretty damn cool to be here, too.

Thanks for listening,

I Am Roseberry.

Beach House

So. Hi.

I'm guessing that you might be a bit bemused by the title, if you haven't yet heard of the band Beach House. Yesterday, I went to their awesome concert. It was great, really.

Beach House is an American indie rock duo formed in 2004 in Baltimore, Maryland, consisting of French-born Victoria Legrand on vocals and organ, and Baltimore native Alex Scally on guitar and keyboards. The band is often labeled a "dream pop" band due to their slow, atmospheric rhythms and haunting lyrics.

Wikipedia.

In my own words, Beach House is indeed a very dreamy band, especially the lead singer, Victoria. She has a beautiful and indeed haunting voice, mostly because her voice has a great range. At yesterdays concert, I also had the pleasure of hearing Alex Scally sing, which was, of course, wonderful. He's a bit more down-to-earth when singing than Victoria is, but I think that they both are great musicians in their own way - and they fit each other perfectly.

Anyways, I thought the concert was great. My friend Ida and I came really early, so we were one of the first people there. That I hadn't tried before, and it was nice not having to push and shove or wait in line to get in. Because we were like some of the first 10 people, we got to stand right in front of the stage - as in, we could lean on the stage and sit on it and almost touch the drum set. So we were good to go!

I had actually feared, that it would be slightly dull, since their style is so dreamy and mellow. But no, there was a great atmosphere in Vega, where they performed. The warm-up band, Our Broken Garden, was very psychedelic in feel, and served as a good, if only a bit boring, intro to the group. I hadn't expected Victoria, the lead singer of Beach House, to sing so well in real life, so I was very surprised - she really has a beautiful voice. Besides, the band set a great mood with three light-pillars placed behind them, creating a smooth light show, and smoke billowing around them on the stage.

I sort of got the feeling that I had stepped into the mind of a romantic smoking pot. In a good way.

I recommend Beach House as a band, and as a concert experience.



Thanks for listening.

I Am Roseberry

The Abercrombie Craze

So. Hi.

Now tell me -- who wouldn't want a piece of that?

Let me explain: the Abercrombie Craze has hit Copenhagen.

No matter what I do, no matter where I turn, it's there. It's all over. E-VER-Y-WHERE!

The new Abercrombie & Fitch flagship store has opened in Copenhagen, and I was there on the day of the opening. I have already been to the Abercrombie store in London, and I knew that I was in for a treat -- I just didn't know how much of a treat.

Normallly, in Copenhagen, they downplay their grand openings a bit. The stores are never quite as big as in, perhaps, London, New York or several cities in France. Therefore, when our very own Abercrombie had set the date of the opening, I was curious -- were they going to go all out? Was it going to be anything like the Abercrombie store in London, which I had already visited?

The store in London was, well, to put it mildly: a bit overwhelming. About 3 blocks away, you could smell the perfume from the store, when you where on the corner of the street, the music was already thumping hard in your body, when you came to the front of the store, you were welcomed by half-naked male models, parading around in their gorgeous abs, and while in the store, it was so dark and loud, that it was hard to determine if you were holding a shirt or a pair of jeans.

So, when I set off on the day of the opening, I didn't really know what to expect. I had heard a rumour that a line had been forming in front of the stoor since that same morning, but I wasn't worried -- after all, a long wait wasn't a high price to pay for checking out hot new clothes and hot shirtless models.

When I arrived at the store, I was, indeed, greeted by a long line. In the front of the stoor, it was already dark, so you couldn't distinguish any of the clothes. In the window they had some kind of hunting-theme, showing big rifles and hunting equipment, but no clothes. Two or three cute doormen were garding the entry, and allowed only a small group at a time into the already overflowing store. The Abercrombie flagship store was bathed in an air of quality, exclusiveness and, when you stepped in the door: sex.

As I had hoped, a hot hot hot shirtless model  was what I first saw, when I took my first steps into the store. Oh me, oh my was he cute. To quote Carrie Bradshaw, he was "Delicious, everything I wanted, couldn't get enough."

All I can say is this: the Abercrombie store was like the one in London -- the same style and feeling, but simply smaller. They had hired about 120 salespeople for each floor, or at least, that's what it felt like. The salespeople were actually casted models, who had been hired to specifically create a very sheek and exclusive atmosphere.  Every corner I turned, I was met by a new, exceedingly pretty face saying: "Hey guys, how's it going?" in a nasal voice, while dancing to the music. It felt kind of cool in the start, but as I left the store, and a blond girl swooped in and said "Heeeey guys," I just wanted to rip her pretty hair off her head.

I left the store feeling, if not a little annoyed, elated and bamboozled by abs and expensive clothes. Now I can't stop thinking about abs abs AAAAAABS and models models MOOOODELS.

Thanks for listening,

I Am Roseberry.

Autumn - A Photo Blog

So. Hi.

Here's some mood-music for you - it's very fitting for sitting at home with a cup of hot chocolate, watching the rain falling on the colorful leaves. I'm in an autumn state of mind, I guess. I used to really hate autumn - but this year, it seems that I have made my peace with it. I sort of find it beautiful.

Thanks for looking,

I Am Roseberry