Archive for Vienna
First of all, I don’t take myself that seriously. I take what I do seriously, and I try to do a good job. (Denzel Washington in GQ US Oct 2012)
At University I feel like being at a point of struggling lately. I don’t have a problem with my grades or my motivation or with the environment. I am actually quite comfortable there, though, there are a few things that really bug me, but hey, you can find things that bug you or make you mad or angry always somewhere, somehow. So, that’s no big deal for me.
As you already know from some earlier entries, I am getting my master’s degree in Journalism and New Media — if you haven’t known so far, you know now. These studies involve a lot of writing, heavy writing. Sometimes these written exposés try to take me out of my comfort zone and I’m going there, out of it. But early on, when signing the contract with the university, I kind of made a pact with myself. I swore to everything that’s worth the world to me, you know, Burberry; VOGUE; Jane Austen; that, no matter what I was about to say or write or do, it would always be consisting of three things: HONESTY, STYLE and AUTHENTICITY.
With everything I write and have people read I want them to not just get to know me and my point of view, I want to present them the perspective of someone finally having an opinion and putting it out there. Even if they do not agree with what I have to say or like the way I say things but at least, it makes them think about my words and actions and opinions and maybe even gets them to form their own opinions — either on me or the topics I write about. I don’t want people to always agree with me, I think most people don’t get that I live for making them speechless; wondering if I’m really being serious. I love to make people laugh or cry reading my words. I love people to be confused by my words; to later on think about what I said once. I want them to form an opinion about my words — either good or bad.
But, what I want the utmost is for them to always find ME in the words I write, the stories I tell!
That’s not because I think I am the most brilliant person in the world, or the most talented, or the most articulate, or the one everyone has to listen to. I know, compared to a lot of other more influential people I might am not influential at all but still — who I am reflects who I want to be. And one day I want to make a change. I want to show people that they can achieve anything they want if they truly stay themselves and go ahead with it. Pull it off relentlessly.
I just want people to know that they can rely on me having an opinion; having a character that I can put out there, a character that doesn’t give a fuck about the things other people say just because they do not like the fact that I’m straight forward and relentlessly sincere. That is the authenticity in my words. I know, I may put a lot of fashion words in writing because I love the visual language and emotional depth of clothing. I want to be a character, people trust because they know one hundred percent that I am honest with them, and straight forward, and that everything I say and write and do is authentically constituting myself. Giving them a part of something they might be able to relate to.
This is who I am and I can’t understand why people always try to force you to be more like the others or more formal or writing based on guidelines. I write what I think and feel and would say in every second I live and breathe, for everything I always wanted to do.
Don’t get me wrong — I do abide by a certain set of rules when it comes to writing, like grammar or spelling. But what I want people to understand and accept and respect and tolerate is the fact that out there one must be himself and unique in order to survive this crazy mixed up world. That is what I am — that is what I believe in — that is what makes me truly special and different. I know who I am and I always make sure people understand that no matter what I say and write and do — it’s done by myself. With outspoken HONESTY, sharp STYLE and one hundred percent AUTHENTICITY. All three in capital letters.
Take it, or leave it.
Currently when I am in public wandering round the streets or being on the way to a meeting or a dinner I find myself being observed by people crossing my way in a very strange manner. The minute people look at me the weird way they do I am wondering if there is something wrong with my face or my outfit and then the next second I find myself realizing I am still in Vienna and we all know – Vienna is in no way ‘Fashion Forward’ even though a lot of Austrian designers, some of which are bad, some of which are extraordinarily good, some of which are truly irrelevant; and fashion bloggers who find themselves being so incredibly important in this fucked up country, try to turn it around by saying ‘Vienna is on the way to becoming a fashion city.’
There I find myself saying, ‘NO. It definitely isn’t!’ Just because a city has stores like Prada, Louis Vuitton, Burberry and Giorgio Armani, it doesn’t become fashionably. Having shops like that is called economy. Just because a city all of a sudden has the idea of hosting its own fashion week, it doesn’t become a fashion metropolis. If you have ever visited the Vienna Fashion Week you’ll realize that it’s called embarrassing. Embarrassing because all of a sudden all bloggers become fashion bloggers just because they post pictures of their stupid outfits because they don’t have anything important to say.
Embarrassing because all these bloggers suddenly become journalists and demand accreditation because they are so important.
Embarrassing because Vienna’s elite of Z-list celebrities all of a sudden decide they are oh so A-list that they have to be photographed at the VFW just because they will then be in shiny magazines where everyone can see their fabulousness.
None of these people really have an understanding for fashion or a sense for style. Fashion and its history always vanishes at celebrations like these in Vienna – just to make space for people who are full of themselves showing off what they do not have — class, style and elegance. That is the main problem of Vienna’s society and the reason it will never turn to a fashion city, fashion metropolis or capital of fashion. Because people here just do not have class. They do not have an understanding for the changes fashion has been through and its history. Fashion is far more than going to a store being able to purchase a €3.400 Burberry trench coat. It is far more than going to Zara and getting yourself an outfit you can post about the next day. Fashion is knowledge. Knowledge of its dimensions — its reach, its history, its global impacts, its designers, its collaborations, its cultural impacts, its influences, its politics, its development.
To me it is rather ridiculous to post an outfit on one’s blog calling themselves journalists or fashion bloggers because there is nothing connected to the meaning and understanding of ‘fashion’ at all. All there really is, is lack of attention that needs to be compensated. And that is what Vienna’s Z-listers and ‘fashion’ bloggers who only post about their outfits really do for a living.
To be continued…
(…because I have a lot more to add!)
P.S.: I know the way I wrote this is very open and yes I do know that a lot of people may be personally attacked with this but that is what I intended to do. Since no one seems to be honest anymore it is about time someone is. And that one seems to be me. I very well know that I am not perfect and that I still have a lot to learn fashion wise but I honestly dare to say I know way more about fashion, its history, its impacts and influences than those wannabe fashionistas.
I know, I am guilty. I am sorry. And I could (maybe even should) apologize a thousand times for not writing quite recently but you must know, my real life was getting the best of me and I found myself in a zone where I had mixed feelings towards the person I was becoming in the last couple of months. I was at a crossroads drifting right into moments of doubt when I finally found myself all shiny and new again believing in myself like I have never before. So I will save you the apology shit and just try to make it up to you.
You know, life gives you moments to decide whether you take the self-pitying road down to nowhere or the doubt-forgetting road up to where you belong – The STARS! I’ve decided for myself to be a star! And so should you.
It is time to stop thinking about doing something but really doing it. Like writing this blog here. Or, more recently I thought about getting an MA degree. I thought about that for over a year and finally I said to myself, ‘fucking do it NOW!’ and so I applied for a Master’s degree in Journalism and New Media and I was invited to the first round of entry exams. I had to wait about two months to get the next invite to the second and third round of entrance examination and you know what? About a month ago I got the news. I am in. I got one of the rare 35 spots. And I had to fight against over 250 others. So, if I can do it – so do you!
My new flat finally feels like a place I can call home. I have all my VOGUE and ELLE and all my books and clothes here. The furniture looks exquisite and I just feel great every time I enter my apartment through the double door entrance. Thank GaGa the dream of my own apartment came true.
And, when we talk GaGa we should talk ‘LADY GAGA – The Born This Way Ball’ which I attended last night. One word: EPIC!
It was the perfect mixture of all the words I love – Fashion, Music, Magic, Extravaganza, Spectacularity, Divinity and Love. (Okay, the last one is a word I only use in combination with things I love to do and never connected to people. You know my issues about this topic and because of a recent, quite painful event I have decided to keep this box of topics hidden from my life now.)
Let me tell you – Lady GaGa was amazing! I was so close to her that I almost cried because of a sudden rush of happiness to be this close to someone I would consider a) a real natural talent b) a style icon and c) someone the younger generation can look up to for inspiration, strength and love for something one does to get ahead in life! She truly is an inspiration to me. And her music a source of strength. When she played my two most favorite songs ‘Bad Kids’ and ‘Marry the Night’ I just lost it. My Monster claws have constantly been up in the air to support her and I knew she felt the support of all of us. It was simply divine. The best concert of my life and while I might still be talking in a rush of emotions here, I have to say that there have also been quite a few negative things about the organization of yesterday’s event. I just think you need to know both sides, the good and the bad. It is just the honest thing to write down. And you know me – I am all about honesty and straight forwardness. The 250 bucks for my VIP Ticket definitely weren’t worth it. And let me tell you – a lot of people were angry and have been crying. (The GaGa gift was a poster of the tour… could have guessed that. No one communicated that there would be just monster pit and no area for those in possession of a VIP ticket – what the hell where the 250 bucks for? Dinner and drinks? Sorry, but I could have had dinner before the event and bought my drinks at the main bar saving myself about 150 bucks. What a fail by the Organizers! I only got so close to her because I fought my way through all the gays and straights.).
But what was worth it was waiting for Lady GaGa – she just delivered an ecstatic, authentic, perfect show full of music, fashion and love! Thank you for that. It was divine. And she even performed a new song of her Album Project ‘ARTPOP’ – Princess Die.
“Highway Unicorn (Road to Love)”
Operation: Kill the Bitch (interlude)
“Born This Way”
“Black Jesus † Amen Fashion”
Mother G.O.A.T. Manifesto I (interlude)
G.O.A.T Briefing (interlude)
“Fashion of His Love”
Mother G.O.A.T. Manifesto II (interlude)
“Heavy Metal Lover”
“Yoü and I” (acoustic)
“Americano” / “Poker Face” (medley)
“The Edge of Glory” (acoustic + album)
“Marry the Night”
Conclusion: If you have the chance to see her because she is in your city or close to your city, or if you do not mind traveling to see her, just fucking do it! And do it now! SHE IS A GODDESS!
P.S.: For those of you who think by G.O.A.T. Lady GaGa refers to the animal I have to put the true meaning out there:
G.O.A.T. = Government Owned Alien Territory in Space which is also the whole theme of the ‘LADY GAGA – The Born This Way Ball’ Tour!
It’s Monday – the first day of a new week and the new chance of starting all over again. And since Sunday also marked the start of a new month I’d say we have a lot of chances to start something new and to finish with old stuff. Stuff we dragged behind us; stuff we know we should have finished ages ago and stuff we tried to keep off or minds but that kept appearing over and over again.
Right now my best friend K is sitting right beside me. She lives with me until Wednesday because that will be the day when she leaves Vienna to go back to her home country. For her, it is time to start a new chapter and so there will be three new chapters in both our lives – a new chapter for her, a new chapter for myself and a new chapter we share full of adventures we live through together even though we will live miles and miles apart from now on.
But I won’t be too sad about it or dramatic or heartbroken or will say good-bye for one time because we will see each other again as often as possible and our friendship will remain as intense and important as it has been before. Boarders should never stop people to be friends.
So – for us there will never be a final sentence, or a final page, or a final chapter. For us, there will always be a new day to meet life with an open mind and an adventurous attitude.
Friday, June 8th
I used to think that once I have an inspiring thought everything will just start from there like a bomb – bamm you’ve got the couch them bamm you’ve got the bookshelves and bamm the dining area finishes itself completely. Well, it is not like that. Not at all. But, to be honest – I kind of enjoy it. The whole process of visiting furniture stores checking for a great sofa and matching fauteuils; or a bed where you feel safe and sound; or an open wardrobe to complement your clothes and bags and shoes.
All the looking at stuff and matching of colors and flipping through decor magazines is a part of a process that helps me to get to know myself better and to work on the relationship with myself for I decorate the environment I am building for myself. The person I’ll have to be in a relationship in until the end. Well, sure, if one commits suicide this isn’t that much of a lifetime but since I am not planning on jumping out of a window or in front of a bus I am quite positive that I will live a long life. So you will not get rid of me and my intellectual outpourings.
Saturday, June 9th
I am sitting in my new Apartment. On the floor waiting for a part of my furniture to arrive. I am tired as fuck and I should mention that it is 6.00 am and that I am awake since 5.20 am. My MacBook is on and I am watching Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows [Part I]. Eventually I must have been fallen asleep during the first half an hour being woken up by a heavy doorbell ringing. I gasp and know – it is here. Thank God, it is here and I can start building it up (by myself).
At 10.30 am I am getting thirsty (but I already built up one and a half IKEA armchairs. All by myself. Fantastic isn’t it?) so I go down to the bakery picking up a sandwich and some water.
10.45 am what the fuck?! I can’t get inside my apartment because the door lock broke. So I call the locksmith. 140 fucking Euros for 5 minutes of his time. Well what a great start into the day. Nonetheless, I am still cheered up by the fact that the walls I am standing in are really mine. My own four walls of blissful fashionability. This will be there place where people come to feel great about themselves. This is going to be the place where I can feel great about myself.
At 11.05 am and 12.15 pm Tomasz and B show up to help me build up the other stuff. So after T and I have finished the Sofa B arrives to help us with the rest of the stuff. Being occupied with the open closet I am building for myself. Like I am my own Mr. Big. After some time thinking I have decided that this Carrie Bradshaw addicted guy better get himself a great closet without waiting for the perfect man to show up building him one. And in the end, I stand in front of the amazing closet knowing that there are no perfect men out there (and I am definitely one of them) but there most certainly is THE perfect wardrobe. And I have it now.
Sunday, June 10th
This is kind of a relaxing Sunday. I haven’t had a day like this in a long time. Full of writing; flipping through the pages of ELLE, ELLE Decoration and VOGUE; watching ‘Sex and the City’ and packing my books, magazines and fashion Look Books into hundreds of boxes. Right now I have 8 boxes so far. In there? All my issues of VOGUE. Well, not all of them to be honest. There are still a lot more to pack. And then there comes the issues of ELLE and Harpers Bazaar and so on. I am afraid I will never get finished with it.
Right now here I sit in front of my MacBook with the windows open, drinking tea and watching the second season of ‘Sex and the City’ (right now: Season 2; Episode 9: Old Dogs, New Dicks) while thinking about the myths of love and relationships and about the fact that there is something true to what Miranda Hobbes said in an episode of that season earlier on, ‘All we talk about anymore is Big or balls or small dicks. How does it happen that four smart women have nothing to talk about but boyfriends? It’s like seventh grade but with bank accounts. What about us? What we think, we feel, we know, Christ!’
I have to agree. (Well, except for the ‘Christ!’ thing – I would have changed that with ‘Gucci!’ or ‘Burberry!’) At some days I really wonder how every relevant topic of discussion always seems to end up with talking about guys. I am fed up with this topic. Maybe it is because I feel like being at a change now that I am moving on with my life by moving out and by being independent and all by myself for the very first time in my life. This is a change I do not want to share with a boyfriend because it is the first thing I have to myself in years.
And I most certainly will cherish that and enjoy it. The whole ride – with all its ups and downs. It doesn’t mean I am lonely just because I am alone. And, to be honest, I am not alone. I am single. Single and Fabulous! (- Exclamation Point!)
If you are one of the few 25 people who got an invitation to this very elitist event you can firstly, congratulate yourself because you are officially declared as being fashionable, cool and absolute IN. (Okay – some of those special 25 aren’t as fashionable, cool and absolute IN as they and I wish they were but hey, I write LOYALTY to my friends in capital letters. Always!)
This Party is going to be more exclusive than the fake waiting list at Hermès for a Birkin Bag. It is like walking into the fucking Hermès store directly up to the stuck up sale’s woman and telling her to get the fucking Birkin from the back. The Alligator one and not the cheap calf leather version. This is how getting an invitation to that Party feels like. AND this Party is strictly A-List! This is ‘a Very BURBERRY Birthday’ and it will be Burberry from front to back and head to toe!
Are you excited? Uh – 6.00 PM. Let the fashionable games begin!
Time to put on your party dress. Time to put on some make up. Time to put on your Manolo Blahnik heels or shiny Burberry shoes and hit the catwalk I call life to get to my party. See you there Bitches!