Archive for Burberry
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.
All packed with my favourite Burberry pieces and four killer outfits I am currently sitting in a café at the Vienna International Airport waiting for my boarding to begin. One more hour to go…
As I am sitting here I am observing the people in their partly hideous, partly glamorous, and partly weird outfits. I see green and red coloured hair. I see some Dior and I see some H&M. I see some people who care about what they are wearing and I see some who don’t – at all. I see MacBooks and iPads and HPs and Sonys. People with mobile phones in busy calls and people just typing or texting or playing with their iPhones and Samsungs and Nokias… I see people already drinking beer (am I the only one with a correctly working watch reading 10.57 am?) and I see some having coffee or tea or water. Wait… I need another coffee.
I sit here, observing all these people while listening to the new album of one of my favourite bands The Gaslight Anthem. ‘Handwritten’ was released in July by Mercury Records and is a masterpiece that stands for itself. Those who came across this band before will maybe know their major hit songs ‘The ’59 Sound’ or ‘Great Expectations,’ which is one of the few songs that nowadays really, really gets to me.
You know what? I love it here – I love the people uneasily looking at their watches every ten seconds just to make sure the plane doesn’t depart without them. I love the people busily occupied with themselves and the people wandering around to grab a bite, or a drink. I just love the busyness in the air – damn, I am addicted to that.
I will relax now to read my VOGUE – stay tuned because there is way more to come. Today is a very busy day.
P.S.: Here’s a little hint on where I am really going:
Nelly Furtado – Spirit Indestructible
[Album: The Spirit Indestructible]
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.
Some time ago I believed in love – irrationally, dreamily, vulnerably. I believed that out there was the one person who was able to make you as happy as you possibly can be. I have had this love. Or, I believed I had it. I don’t know. I can’t put it to words… but I will try.
I know that out there is no one I could love as much as I have loved this very special man. He was handsome (still is, as far as I know), polite, had the sense of humor I loved and was in every possible way absolutely right for me. I was happy. Sometimes. Sometimes I was just sad because he wasn’t there. And sometimes because I wasn’t there. It seems, timing was all wrong for the two of us. Or, I was just not the right for him.
Now you may wonder – why past tense? Why am I writing in a time that has passed quicker as I could say ‘Burberry?’ Well, simply because I have realized that sometimes ‘to love is not enough.’ It is not enough to say ‘I love you’ a million times without taking actions, without really showing you that one’s love is able to cross boarders and move mountains.
As time passed by I changed and my belief in love was shattered. This is not supposed to be a story where you all feel sorry for me because I neither want you nor myself to feel sorry for that because we all know that things like that have happened to other people too. So that is what matters. That you are not alone when it comes to things like losing someone you’ve sincerely, dearly and honestly loved.
You should cherish the possibility of having been loved (even if not the way you would have wished it, maybe) or having been able to feel love towards someone, to express it. Because it is only a lost thing if you have never even tried to express what you feel for someone. That is the only waste – Not having experienced love at all.
I may have lost the faith in the existence of love and may have grown to be very cynical and sarcastic about ‘love’ and the way people treat it sometimes but that is only because I have experienced my personal high in loving someone, knowing that there is nothing that can top what was there already. Maybe that is the reason why I do not think about giving it another shot – because, well, simply put, nothing… no one can compare. Nothing and no one ever will. Some feelings are Untouchable. Like a distant star. Like Taylor Swift once sang.
Forgive me, if this might sound all cheesy again but since my cynical self mostly takes the upper hand when it comes to writing it might be a welcoming change to let some emotions come through. It won’t happen that often, trust me. At least for now I have them under control again. Have a fabulous start into the new week. Enjoy your evenings with a glass of wine, like I do. Shiraz. The most brilliant wine of all.
Croatia in Pictures and Sounds [Bonus Features Season 2 of ‘The Diary of the Traveling Burberry’] (Part I)
Sometimes it doesn’t take a lot of words to transport certain emotions. Sometimes Pictures and Sounds are absolutely enough. Sometimes pictures can express every single emotion and mood of a certain beautiful, unique and special moment.
This is going to be one of these ‘Sometimes’ – times/moments where all that is needed are pictures and some tunes:
This is the end of part one but there is a lot more to come. Stay tuned because this Bonus Feature Edition of Season 2 of ‘The Diary of the Traveling Burberry’ is going to be continued…
‘And it’s hard to dance with the devil on your back so shake him off…’
P.S.: All pictures taken by Speedfreak.
We are in the car on our way back to where we came from. The navigational system calculates about 45 minutes until we reach our first stop – Carinthia. Some of us decided to take a dip in the Woerthersee to end this trip which should have been all about swimming, bathing and getting shockingly tanned, with a couple of hours of Austrian water and sun.
I for one part have decided to not jump into the Woerthersee but occupying myself with my MacBook and the season finale of ‘The Diary of the Traveling Burberry.’ It’s the last episode everybody. The fifth and final one. The Parting of the Ways. Quite dramatic, isn’t it? Well – it is a bit. I sit here in the car leaving behind the fun and laughter I had in the last couple of days taking with me the memories of adventures and days in the sun as well as days with people I now would even more call friends than I have been able before. You know, in life certain things bring people closer together as well as certain things are often reason for drifting apart. We did not drift, we became closer for sharing thoughts, a lot of time and, of course, adventurous trips to haunted houses with histories deeper than our own and stories to tell that make us think about certain things we take for granted in our lives as well as our lives themselves. We live. And we take this life and think it is ours to waste though in fact it is ours to take care of, nurture, treat well.
In order of this thought – of the house with the seemingly sad history i have decided to take it a bit slow on writing about what I was wearing today and giving you the chance of imagining a calmer Mr.StrictlyIntimate. Someone who takes himself damn seriously but on the other hand is very open for a lot of adventures, laughter and honest discussions. The Traveling Burberry season two slowly comes to an end as we come closer to the rain station of Carinthia mile for mile. This is going to be the place where the parting of the ways will start. Soon the first good-bye’s will be told…
After a relatively long ride to Carinthia we’ve decided to have a little lunch. Well, a big one is actually more like it since the four of us found ourselves occupied with four big and heavy pizzas but we decided, since it was our last day of our trip and of the Diary of the Traveling Burberry, we do not care about the calories we are about to enjoy. And damn, we did enjoy. While the others where occupied with their food I found myself writing on this blog and thinking about the changes I went when being on vacation and when finding myself being back where I once was a couple of years ago on an emotional basis. There is something or someone in my life I can’t seem to get out of my head and on this trip I found myself even more engaged with this very person. It was then I realized I was storing the number of an apartment renting advertisement in Klagenfurt where this very person lives. And here I sit and wonder – will it ever take me there and will life have me there for good?
Anja arrives with the second car – the other four already took off by train and she decided to stay a few more days in the country where she once lived for a couple of years. I sit there and wait. Wait for someone to arrive. Two and a half hours. He doesn’t and the pressure of leaving is heavy on my heart for we have a train to catch from Leoben. So I try to squeeze a few more minutes out of the other’s patiences and then ten minutes after six and exactly two hours and forty minutes after desperate waiting we say good-bye to Anja and take off.
We are having drinks. Our last drinks on this trip. We have already bought our tickets so there is nothing to stress about. We sit there and enjoy the skyline of Leoben, which seems to be impressively soothing to the other’s nerves. The pain of leaving Klagenfurt still beats heavy in my brain and even heavier in my heart. I am constantly checking my iPhone and I feel like being back where I once was. A long time ago. Is this really me? Is this really where I belong? Do I have to go back to that place? Vienna. I can’t even bare to say it out loud not mentioning forming the word with my thoughts. Back to the old place where I come from and where I will always belong somehow. But I can’t. I do not want to stay there. I want to remove myself from that country like people remove stains from their most beloved pieces of clothing. I want to find myself somewhere else. I feel like I can’t move on with finding myself if I do not finally leave the environment I know so well but connect to so little. I do not have a home. I never had one. I never had something that felt like a home to me. The only person I was closest to calling home is the only person who is not in my life anymore. Is it always that hard to find a home? To find a place to call home? Where do we belong? Where do I belong? Time passes by and we go. Leave the bar.
I find myself in the train writing these lines watching my sister arguing with the guy who controls our tickets. What is there to fucking argue about? Damn OEBB.
Are we there yet? Vienna?
The trip ends here. Or there. It was a good one. One full of laughter – one full of people who connected over jokes and drinks and stories of life. It was a time I will never forget and it definitely was a trip we should do another time. Thank you for that time and stay true to yourself – everyone, you are great, just the way you are.