I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Heart

In commemoration of Firu's and my 2 1/2 anniversary, I'm going to talk about love...again. They say love is supposed to be an unconditional feeling. That, even though the object of your affections don't reciprocate the feelings, you wish them happiness. L-O-V-E is a subject I like to think about. I am in love with the idea of love. Most girls are like this too, I should think. Sad to say, they may be more in love with love than the actual person. This rises as a problem in a relationship when what they expect out of a relationship/person doesn't pan out. We're all just people, in the end. Romance is the method of making something more beautiful than it is to attract the beholders. Love, however, is taking something for what it is and continually wants to protect it both physically and mentally. Romance is where it starts, love is how it goes on. So, before you go on calling something love, really think about it and ask yourself, "Is this really love?" Or it might come back and bite you in the ass.

Primark coat // C&A kids cardigan // Threadless "Zombie Romance" tee // H&M waist-high shorts // Tights c/o MyHudson // Philips headphone (self-designed) // All Star by Converse sneakers

Against my better judgment to save this tee for Valentine's Day - that would one bloody Valentine, I'd say, this tee I bought off  Threadless during the holidays is like my mind put into a shirt. Zombie love is the best - since it's a no-brainer, get it? I love how bloody and real it is. Do you guys realise that I was wearing eyeliner? I barely ever put make up on and eyeliner is my archnemesis since my eyes can't keep still when anyone tries to put them on me. It isn't clearly visible under my glasses, though. Firu said my eyes would look bigger with eyeliners - since they are slanted and droopy. So on our Paris trip, I asked Iva to apply it on me. And I did look better. So I'm going to learn now. Have a lovely bloody Thursday! Cheerio!

P.S: I hate that Spotify changed this song title. It's supposed to be "Monroeville" instead of "Monrover"

桜子からのKIMONO姫さま

Yaay! My good friend, Sakurako, went home to Japan during the holidays. It was good news for her and for me. She knows I'm a total Japan-freak so she was kind enough to grant one of my wishes, which is to bring me back the kimono fashion magazine that she kept telling me about, KIMONO姫! She just came back last week and asked to meet with me the other day to give me this. I didn't know how psyched I would be upon seeing this magazine. And it's mine now! Oh, how I miss Japanese books and magazines. Despite the fact that I can't read most of their kanjis, flipping through the beautiful layouts and enjoying the highly aesthetic photographs and letters are enough for me.

On the content: Firstly, there is a number of fashionable photographs of various kinds of kimonos in various kinds of settings. In this issue, it was simple but just as attractive. Later on, all these kimonos will be piled into the same page along with their data - price, store, location, etc. Then there was an article about how kimono dates back to the ancient times. There were also several stores being featured online - even Yahoo! where you can, apparently, bid for a kimono or two - and offline (with the address) along with their selections of seasonal kimonos - can't you see I'm drooling? Don't forget the accessories, such as the sandals (geta, zori, etc.) and the pouch. Last but not least, there were also some illustrations about how to sew your own kimono plus how to wear them. It was all very insightful and killed the thirst of my soul. I'm going to enjoy this baby for now. You guys go and have an aesthetic Tuesday! Cheerio!

Houndstooth on a Bucktooth

EXPAND denim top // Houndstooth jumper via Someone Like You // H&M tights // C&A coat // Primark shoes // Shakespeare & co. tote bag // First and fourth pictures by Rezy

I don't know if you've ever noticed but I have an easy-to-spot bucktooth on the left side of my upper jaw. If I try to smile like a normal person, a tad of white can be seen peeking from beneath my upper lip. It'd look strange and absolutely out of place. Despite what people say, though, I adore my bucktooth. It makes me...well, me, I think. Mom promised to get me braces like she got my sister after my middle school finals. But here I am, six years later, still bucktoothed and braces-less. My sister was buckteethed - she had two! - and now her teeth are perfectly aligned. Sometimes I do wish to have my teeth fixed with braces - people can lose weight wearing those - but it's far too complicated now that I' live abroad. Oh, we'll see.

Before the holiday started, I raided Lauren's closet and purchased this lovely houndstooth dress. It is winter-appropriate because it's made out of wool and surprisingly cozy. Granted, it's only 7-8º here but, otherwise, I wouldn't advice you to walk around sans coats. Thanks, Lauren! I'm still on cloud nine after visiting my favourite english bookstore in the world, Shakespeare & co.! It was like a dream but I have a tote to prove it. This tote was clearly meant to carry books and not much else since there are barely space for anything else. My kind of tote. Tomorrow's the first day of school again. So not ready. Either way, have a relaxing Sunday! Cheerio! 

Lauren of Someone Like You

There's No Place Like Home

Have you ever gone back to a place that you once called home and found that it no longer belonged to you? A place that you think of in the wee hours when everyone's gone home and you can't fall asleep. For the better part of my life, this place was Durlach, a small part of Karlsruhe - the old town. I remembered it being sunny, full of laughter and like a small town of our own. It was this corner of town no one would come to unless they had business there. I thought Durlach belonged to us and us alone. How arrogant. Now it belongs to neither of us.

Before our Paris trip, Firu and I explored Karlsruhe a little bit. He lived here for a year while I did for 8 good months. This town held memories and our loved ones. I thought I would feel like coming home being back here. I didn't. We went to Durlach. It hasn't changed. But we couldn't 'go home' there anymore. We visited our old home but didn't come in - it belongs to someone else now. We climbed the foot of the Turmberg mountain and discovered a place we'd never known before. Funny, how I thought it belonged to me.

Threadless Illustrated Tee // H&M blazer (a friend's) // C&A plaid skirt // Rilakkuma bag // Falke tights // Deichmann boots // Photos of me by Firu

On this trip to Karlsruhe and Paris, I packed a sufficient amount of clothes. Sufficient, not a lot. Firu frowned upon this but I don't feel bothered by it. I'm all about being efficient, baby. I brought a batik dress, this tee, this skirt, a pair of pants, a blouse and this blazer. Those were enough and highly remixable. All the items in this post are all stuff I've owned before December came. It's so nice to be wearing old stuff. The only person to give me thumbs up for my limited clothing choice is probably my good friend, Wilson - who came with us on this little trip to Durlach. He's the only person I know who wears khaki pants and crocs in winter. Then again, it's winter in Karlsruhe, which wasn't anything at all. Hence, my absence of a coat. Have a homecoming Friday, all! Cheerio!

Les Jours à Paris: Les Non-Événements

Last day of the journey! Oh damn, I'm going to miss this trip. By the end of it, we were too tired to think of anywhere else to go to and of standing in a long line to get somewhere. We didn't plan it all the way through the night before what we were going to do this day. But we went to the first place Iva wanted to go to: The Catacombes. But, in contrary to what we believed, there was a long line snaking its way around the small park next to the entrance. After hard but short deliberation, we decided to ditch the place and go to the second destination, mine, Musée d'Orsay. I wasn't sure what was in it, but I admired the exterior when we discussed it in my Paris class.

Needless to say, this famous site was surrounded with twice as many people, standing in line. In desperation and defeat, we walked away once again, this time catering to our growling tummy. At first, as our last attempt to find the Japanese restaurant Edwin had told us from the beginning of the trip, we got off the métro at Saint Michel, where we thought it would be. Instead, Edwin and Iva took a look around for more souvenirs. On this same spot, we saw an african man perform some soccer tricks/dance moves. He even climbed the nearby lamp post. Wilson was so amazed he gave him the well-deserved penny.

We roamed the small alleyways a little bit to look for the best site for lunch. We found that place in a small corner of a narrow street, where we could order a menu set of appetizer, main course and dessert. From the top is Wilson's appetizer, Herring fillet salad; Edwin's appetizer, Onion cake; my appetizer, Mussels with butter and garlic; Firu's main course, Roasted lamb leg and Wilson's main course, Sirloin steak. I can't, for the life of me, remember the name of this small bistro but the food was all to our liking and the service was superb. The waiter who ushered us in was extra nice - turned out he came from Algeria and was also a Muslim. For dessert I ordered Tarte aux Pommes (my favourite), Firu ordered Raspberry Sorbet while the others ordered Cheese with Honey - which was, to my surprise, actually delicious. Too bad we found such a place only shortly before our departure.

As our last destination, we finally visited the Sacré Coeur. This was located in a poor district, filled with a huge number of people, crowding into one another. I would suggest you keep your belongings close to you for fear of clever pickpockets. I read that the view from this place should be quite romantic. With these many people, it wasn't. I hated the street vendors here, who almost forcefully pulled us aside upon climbing the stairs. How rude! Funny thing happened, though. The police suddenly came to raid the place and everyone packed up their merchandise and hid away. Too bad the police left too soon. Afterwards, we rushed to the station, waited for our train and boarded it when it arrived. We spent the trip back playing cards and sleeping. That was one hell of an adventure. I kind of wish to write more. But you're probably sick of it right now. So I'll stop. Enjoy your day! Cheerio!