Aah, February. What are we gonna do with you. Let's find out, shall we?

This is not the greatest picture ever taken, but it's the only one I could crop myself out of. Not 'cause my friends aren't pretty, but 'cause I'm not sure if they'd wanna be on here

Yeah we went out to celebrate carnival. Interestingly, Hamburg is like, the one place in Germany where they don't actually do carnival, but we tracked down a party, threw together some costumes from scratch and merrily went off (after changing in the fancy foyer bathroom of our workplace, scaring the concierge in the process). When we made it to the location, there were literally fifteen people there, so we refused to waste our hard-earned money and sat down outside, counting the arriving guests. We made minus. Two guys left, but not without coming by and telling us how much that place blew and that we should come with them to another spot, so naturally, we took up their advice and ended up having a lovely night at a very authentic bash right underneath city hall. The lesson here, lovelies: Don't talk to strangers, unless they look like they know where it's going on.

Currently listening to: Cry Baby, by Melanie Martinez, as well as Cry Baby, by Demi Lovato. Different approaches, same belt-out potential. Love me a good "mascara all over my face" aesthetic. You must think I'm such fun at parties, right? But don't you worry, because

I'm all moved back into my parent's house, to finish up my last year at fashion school! I have to say, looking at the still-not-unpacked boxes around me (and the fact that all my clothes are holed up in my suitcase and I am too lazy to hang them up and therefore have nothing to wear at all), there is a certain nostalgia for my spacious, generally orderly apartment with the great shoe rack. However, home does have lots of perks to it, such as fully cooked food at reasonable hours of the day, cough medicine (I'm not an addict, I actually am sick. I think my ribs are broken, but I might have just pulled a muscle while coughing out my lungs. Again, glamorous party trick) and loved ones around.

For instance, I met up with my bestest friend already! She is currently seeing someone new (or rather, new in the sense of him being "seeing" material), and we were wondering: When is the right time to ask to see the other person's health record? Do you just casually whip out your own and say "oh, I just happened to pick this up, why don't you show me yours, too, sometime?" To be honest, I'd probably totally forget about that. Even though it is an important matter and there's no shame in checking your health and ladida, you know I get queasy talking about my UTIs, so how do you expect me to be cool about this? Also, it just seems so unromantic and un-fun and un-spontaneous. But maybe there is some kind of secret code to use? I am a big fan of using secret codes for uncomfortable conversations (remember Sunday?).

Someone who's in a wholly different sphere of being right now is my loveliest friend. She's currently studying in Milan, and if you haven't been hiding from humanity you'll know that Milan fashion week is going on right now - so it's Fendi for lunch and Prada at night for her. Everyone's there, Anna, the other Anna, Olivia, Gigi; notice how I'm already using their first names like I'm a close personal friend? And I'm not even there. Got the pictures to prove it, though. I'm flying out next weekend, which I'm already overly excited about, not 'cause of the fashion (well, a bit, too), but because we'll be finally reunited (my loveliest friend and I, if that wasn't quite clear. It's hard not to get caught up there).

Love,

Rosy Smith

I'm pretty sure I have declared myself to have hit rock bottom before but it turns out, there are lots and lots of bottoms left to crash through. How nice.

This time, it was me googling the "normal" time span people usually feel like shit for after a break-up and if that isn't enough of a downfall, I ended up on a psychology site that listed different stages of awful feelings, which just made me feel some more of them right away.

I just hit my head on my bedframe. That's what you get for sitting on it in the middle of the day.

Anyways, I find that these supposedly helpful tips either make you sad all over again because they formulate the sickness you feel, or they make you feel bad because they keep on telling you that you'll get over it and that all the things you wish you'd gather the courage up to do, like writing a letter or just calling him up, would not change anything. I'm sorry, but do they know anything about anyone's relationship, at all? When you're desperate enough to rely on the internet to feel better, it is totally not helping to be chastised by may-or-may-not-have-a-degree psychologists on top of it all. Stuff like "Stop this", "don't do that", "that's not relevant" is so not what we tormented souls need to hear. What I want is to be pet on the back and told that my point of view is the only valid thing in the world, being:

It's okay to hold on to your pyjama's like they're a security blanket.

It's okay to not be hungry, just as it is okay to try and fill the emptiness with Chinese food and chocolate. Just, like, don't starve.

It's okay to spend days at a time on the couch watching hours of sitcoms from beginning to end.

It's okay to complain about not doing anything with your life besides watching hours of sitcoms from beginning to end.

It's okay to feel unable to do anything to distract yourself even though you want to.

It's okay to enjoy things that distract you.

It's okay to switch from enjoying those things to being sad again.

It's okay to crave company.

It's okay to bring up that same topic to your company again and again even though there's nothing new to add and you end up being sad.

It's okay to cry. In the middle of the day, in the middle of the night, right after you wake up, when your noodles fall of your spoon, when something reminds you of them, when you wash your hair, when you're alone, when you're with a friend.

It's okay to miss them.

It's okay to make up dramatic metaphors about how your whole body feels raw and bruised and every move hurts.

It's okay to take breaks from thinking about it.

It's okay to feel like you're never gonna be okay again. I'm not even gonna tell you that you will be, eventually, because personally, hearing that makes me wanna throw up, and I think that's okay as well.

The list goes on.

Love,

Rosy Smith

Pig parts people: Some construction workers outside were roasting a suckling outside our school grounds and while it was, indeed, quite a disturbing sight, most of my classmates were standing at the windows practically inhaling the scent of fresh meat and coal (refuting the rumors, us fashion girls are a hungry crowd). However, other girls weren't so happy about the free live-cooking action, seeing it more as a live-cruelity act. Rude gestures were spotted, is all I (being totally noncommitted, comme d'hab) am gonna say.

Easter rolls around: What are you gonna do? Egg hunts, fire hazards, or a little easter barbecue (please don't be mad at me)? I have not been eating any chocolate (well, my definition excludes Ben&Jerry's, obviously, but that's really not pure chocolate. Na-ah) for the last six weeks and I haven't gone full-on crazy yet; such victory! Can't wait for Sunday, though. There are some nougat eggs with my name on them.

Reoccuring question: Is my stomach rumbling because I'm hungry or because I've eaten too much raw avocado? Should I just eat some more and hope for the best? Isn't that the answer most of the time?

And while we're at it, what not to eat on dates: A quick reminder, in case you want to brush up on these life-savers. It is strongly advised to avoid anything that can't be eaten with a fork, par exemple salads (those greens get all over the place), soup (slurp) and burgers (lockjaw, or at least unattractively widely opened mouth, not appropriate in public). Holding back on strong flavors such as garlic and liverwurst (it makes me gag to write this) goes without saying. Oh, and don't underestimate the power of carbonic acid to make you feel like someone is pulling your corset strings so tight your rips shrink to the size of Scarlett O'Hara's waist. It's hard to be enticing/funny/able to speak feeling that way.


Love,

Rosy Smith

So, I'm not too informed on how other people handle this, but I feel like in a relationship, there have to be two kinds of occasions to meet the other person. On the one hand, it's the nights in with a movie or some board game (can't you just feel my youthful spirit) where you just talk and make out and stuff and eat pizza on the floor. Those nights are pretty great, don't get me wrong. In fact, I went out all day yesterday with my oldest friend and her crowd and by the end of the day I was really wishing I'd been having one of those pizza nights instead of standing around all day in flat shoes and still getting back pain from it.

However, the other kind of thing is as important as those: Real dates. As in "taking someone out for it".  Obviously, you have to think these ones through a bit more, and I find that especially hard (I like to be the one who gets taken out rather than the taker), but I've come up with some ideas to make it easier, so here we go:

Make sure that transportation is taken care of. There's nothing worse than having to figure out logistics for what's supposed to be a romantic adventure, so don't even suggest me taking the train to meet you somewhere. I'm a big defender of the old value of a man picking up a girl in his car. If you don't have one, or can only break out your family's old station wagon, don't give up: Just rent one! There's a peer-to-peer car rental company called Turo that allows you to choose from lots of different types of cars (even race cars, if you like it fast) without having to deal with a big rental company. I looked up available cars in New York just now, and even for little money you can get some pretty cool rides, no matter if you just want something to flash your date with when showing up at her doorstep or if you plan on making the car the attraction and head off to a week-long road trip. Check out their website!

Choose a place that feels like a date. I'm talking restaurants with dimmed lights and discreet waiters who appear by your side with a ghostly swoosh; jazz cafés with low chairs and a twenties-feel to them where it's not weird to start dancing tightly intertwined; old-school movie theatres with plushy seats, cocktail service and classic Hollywood flicks on the program. Not your local steak house with an all-you-can-eat salad buffet and screaming kids in the next booth. Give me something to dress up for, won't you?

Or choose a place that you feel your date would like. Obviously you can screw all of the above if you know that your special company would die for the Mac n Cheese at the Red Lobster (I've never been there, thinking about it, but who knows) but no one ever goes with her 'cause her friends hate seafood (whatever). Or if she is a Disney freak who'll gladly be joined by a mob of middle school girls on their class trip to the newest installment of Frozen (will there be installments? I should do my research more thoroughly). Anything that makes someone happy will make for a good date, so it doesn't need to be featured in the ten pm newsflash to go well.

Don't give anything away. I am so into being taken out, my vision of a perfect plan is a plain "Be ready at seven" eg. the fact that I don't have to plan a thing. Call me unfeminist, but I have no problem at all with not knowing how it's about to go down - I trust him with knowing enough about my idea of fun to not make me jump off a building or something else that will ruin my hair. Also, it's so much more like a sweep-me-off-my-feet movie scene where the hero just grabs the heroine's hand and shows her the beauty of the city/the fun of being a streetcat (AristoCats is the joy of my existence)/basically a good time.

Have fun, too. I am aware that I mostly talk about the took-outs part of the deal, but you see: A date is, essentially, simply something to do while you're spending time with someone you like, and who wants to spend time with a cranky human who doesn't like what you're doing at all? Right, so the point is that whatever you're doing, both of you should enjoy. Mood is everything, ain't it so?

Love,

Rosy Smith

Love,

Rosy Smith

Now I know that in this day and age, not everyone feels the need for an introduction like this. You yourself might be a defendant of the easy going, laissez-faire style of texting culture which implies that "it's not a big deal, you text whenever you want and answer whenever you see it. What rules?"

In that case, bless your innocent heart.

Obviously I don't know what your exact arrangment with your significant other is on that part of your relationship - it might not even be relevant. You might exchange romantic hand-written loveletters sprizzed with perfume, for all I know. However, for everyone who simply does not have a clue what their partner expects, this is how you definitely don't disappoint:

Emoticons: Do use them. It just looks more lively and lets me know you like me enough to make the effort to choose a smiley face that enhances your message for me and that's reassuring and I like to be reassured. But if you use them, do it continously. Nothing makes me more uncomfortable than a single emoticon-free message in a sea of blushy cheeks and winks. Even if it's a simple "Okay" it'll sound like "Okay! God, you're annoying/I'm not exactly okay with this but I don't want to deal with you headcase" to me, because only a "Okay :))" will give me the fuzzy feeling I need when conversing with you.

Still, you shouldn't solely and exessively use emoticons or I'll get the feeling you're either too lazy to actually phrase an answer or you don't have anything to say to me.

Timing: To be on the safe side, reply when you see it. Except when you're actually busy (driving, dying, in a million dollar conference count as "busy", for example) or need to check something in order to have an adequate answer (movie tickets, hotels, your mom's birthday). Consequently, be aware of the fact that I'm likely to re-reply again so you need to check your phone from time to time (daily would be a good minimum- so I know you're not dead/have not stopped liking me within the last 24 hours, whatever seems more likely).

Emotional Level: I get it, not everyone likes to express their undying adoration for somebody through 144 characters (need to google how many characters it really is but you get me). But a "Can't wait to see you" already makes so many of us happy and takes our mind off the fact that there were no empty seats on the train - it's not that hard. No one asks you to propose via text. No one wants you to do that, actually.

Golden Rule: Two or more days of not texting are considered rude since it's in some people's genes (mine) to start getting absolutely irrational deamings about the relationship and the meaning of life and listen to "Forever and Always" by Taylor Swift while solemny staring out of the train window and therefore your fault, not theirs. Don't be that guy.

If everyone did this the world would be a much less hysterical place.

Love,

Rosy Smith

....doesn't this sentence alone sound all gloomy to you? Like I'm going to say something that's going to hurt you? Like I'm going to break up with you? Then you remember that you don't know me and therefore I couldn't do that. But the thought came to your mind, didn't it?

Well, that's not where I'm going with this. Not exactly.

It's just this: When two people come together, there seem to be a few different categories my loveliest friend summed up today:
 
Friends

Friends with benefits

Affairs

People dating

People in a relationship

Strangers

Choose one of those and you're good. Or, at least, defined. However, I feel like I understand every category mentioned, except for "people in a relationship". What exactly do those people do that makes them different from those dating? Is it the ability to confide their love for each other? Does that change so much? Can't one be in a relationship with somebody one isn't in love with?

Or is it the reassurance of knowing the person you're with isn't going to bail on you as soon as they get bored? Not having to plan every single date, not having to fear they aren't gonna want to see you, or won't like what you suggest? It's stressful, this dating thing. If you care enough, that is.

But when does that turning point arrive? Is "I love you" the pass to relaxation? Shouldn't one make an effort even when you're officially in an relationship?

Also, it's not like you'd suddenly be married and separating is not in option, as it might have been in the 1940s. People do break up.

So I'm asking again, what is the big difference?

Love,

Rosy Smith

....Remember how people were talking about the January Blues, and how SAD everything seems after New Year's has passed and one doesn't have an excuse to eat all day and watch movies anymore, and how nobody needs snow after Christmas?

Well, turns out things don't necessarily get better in February. This isn't a personal concern, 'cause I'm actually quite cozy at home right now, but rationally thinking about it, these misfortunes come up:

Falling in love isn't fun in February. Nobody wants to do that at this point. All people want is get warmer, get a different job and go to a different place, and all of that is possible and probably better if you do it all by yourself, 'cause one is usually a bit cranky during this month and not in the mood to put up with a different opinion on top of it all. One should always try and fall in love in May. Or, even better, in August.

I mentioned it: It's still as cold as it can be. There's still snow, which is an unsolicited attempt of compensation for its absence at Christmas.  The past is the past, my friend, and all our thoughts go towards Spring, where we've heard it gets better.

It's one of those funeral months. That's probably not a statistically proven fact. However, I feel like February is especially suited for a crying sky.

Valentine's Day. Oh, please. Who thought it'd be a good idea to celebrate those butterflies at a time when all you want is be left alone with your blanket and a nicely unrealistic novel? See above: I'd suggest May or August instead.
And all this talk about how you don't need to be in a relationship to have Valentine's Day. I'm suspecting people made that up because of all the After-Christmas-Breakups in January, there weren't enough consumers who'd buy the cheesy cards and freshly cut flowers. Candy had no sales problems, though, 'cause no one cares for the heart shape as long as there's chocolate.

Times are a'changing in February. In January, while things might be dull, at least everyone and everything is still numb and unable to move (food coma and all). Now, however, life starts to roll again, and that means things happen. Some good, some bad, some sad. Still, people aren't in the position to deal with them yet. I know I'm not. In April, maybe. April seems like a good month to get your life together.

For now, I suggest we all take a break from the exhaustion February is confronting us with. Mine is to go skiing and pretend it's Christmas all over again. What's yours?

Love,

Rosy Smith

....another one of my totally irrational yet totally impacting pet-peeves? Great, here we go....

Frankly spoken, I hate scarves.
I don't like to wear them; I own about three and they rarely see the light of day. If I uncommonly decide to put one on, in case of a deathly hypothermia or something, I'll rip it off within the first ten minutes of sitting down and scrunch it into a little ball on my lap. Scarves, same as turtlenecks, suffocate and annoy me. I feel like I'm carrying way too much unnecessary fabric. Also, I can't adapt to the thought that I should cover my neck for some reason; isn't that one of the most elegant body parts you're supposed to accentuate rather than hide? Why would one want to look as if one doesn't even have a neck?

Now, you'd think that it's okay if I feel that way, since nobody is forcing me to ever bother wearing a scarf, and that it's all good, right?
I'm afraid it's not.

In fact, my dislike towards these innocent pieces of clothing goes so far as that I physically struggle not to hassle strangers and pull the darn thing off them (not at all sounding like a lunatic ). I don't care for girl's wearing them. But a boy, I'm sad to say, becomes about 99 percent less attractive to me the moment they choose to put on a scarf.

Let me explain it to you with a Katy Perry song: "I hope you hang yourself with your H&M scarf....you're so gay and you don't even like boys".....or, this one's good too: "You're not a man/you're just a mannequin". Not that I'd want anyone to hang themselves (my points aren't that obvious), or that I wanna degrade gay people to being scarf-wearing people - it's just that I can't take a guy seriously, romance-wise, if he needs to throw on something silky. Sue me for that.

The worst thing is when they're doing it inside. It makes me all itchy to watch that shame go down. Who, I ask you, who on earth told the world that it's a thing now to wear your snow equipment inside a house with central heating? It objectively doesn't compliment any body part or outfit at all, so that couldn't have been the motivation. Does anyone even know why people do this or is the whole disaster resembling a cult based on words so ancient, no one remembers what the hell they actually said?

I shouldn't get so worked up over this - you never want to scare people - especially since, if I should set my mind on a guy who's picked up this outrageous habit, I reckon it wouldn't be that hard to talk him out of it. He obviously doesn't care much for his appearance, anyways.

Nothing to worry about then, is there, lovelies?

Love,

Rosy Smith

Believe me, I've tried. I checked my class schedule and figured out the day I have most classes together with the special someone of that time and planned my outfit according to this, meaning that I usually wore all of my favorite things on these particular occasions. When he didn't show up at school then, it was a very frustrating waste of a perfectly good outfit. When he did show up, he didn't even notice, so it was also a very frustrating waste of a perfectly good outfit. What I'm trying to say is, it does no good to get all dolled up and sparkling just for a particular person who might not even care  - and then feel like a trashbag on all other days because you're thinking "what for?". That's so wrong, it makes me cringe.

Let's play a little imagination game here, shall we? What if, hypothetically, you run into the guy of your dreams on a badly dressed day? Your answer now is probably, well, crap. Now you'll be all alone forever and ever. But that isn't the right conclusion, lovelies! The right conclusion here would be, well, crap, now I missed out on the chance on a love life because I didn't have the guts to talk to him because I'm not wearing my confidence-clothes because I thought I only need them on the days with A-period lunch, and that, everyone, is the fatal mistake.

The first thing we need to get straight here is that you should never, ever, choose your clothes with a view of what your crush, or your boyfriend, or the stranger on the L-train seems to like. The key is to wear something you yourself absolutely adore. If that's jeans and t-shirt, good for you. If that's low-cut and high rising everything, you do you. Because if you are aware of the fact that these clothes look damn fine on you, everybody is going to notice you differently - they will have to think you're fabulous since you leave no doubt to that fact.

So don't ever decide to wear the old shirt you don't really like because its sleeves are kinda too short and you always have to pull at them again, simply because you're not "seeing anyone important today" or to not wear the tight dress which enhances your figure because your boyfriend "doesn't like when you dress provocatively". Your wardrobe is your business and it's also your key to feeling great about the way you look and therefore a whole new attitude! Pick your favorite things every day. If you don't have enough of these, go shopping (Gosh I'm getting too materialistic again).

Everything goes, lovelies.

Love,

Rosy Smith

....100 tips to get the guy you want. 35 irresistible flirt lines. 12 hairstyles that get them going. Whatever, you name it. Long lists of two-liners explaining that it's a safe thing to make somebody fall in love with you by spritzing some perfume into your hair. I'd say the only thing safe here is that you'll need more shampoo next time you shower.

Because seriously, lovelies, have any of these tips ever stood up to your expectations when it came to reality? Not for me, I have to say. And I do understand, seeing as I, too, wouldn't exactly crush on somebody who ran into me on purpose to show how adorably awkward he is. Or somebody who happened to wear the same color as me. I mean, if I hit on every black-clothed person around me, I'd have a problem with nymphomania.

Moving on to the actual flirting techniques suggested, a spontanous text saying "I'm getting a milk shake, wanna come join me?" may sound like a nice thing to do, but every real girl who has ever texted somebody they liked knows the serious struggle that already comes with simply waiting for a reply, let alone the psychic horror of contemplating whether or not he'd come to meet you in color and 3D! Would anybody dare to take the risk of sitting in a diner all by yourself and crying into your milkshake while you read his answer: "Sorry, busy 2day"? If so, then you're braver than all of us.

What else? Oh, yeah, I'm dying to know how exactly one should manage to play with a strand of hair while keeping your hands still and trying to "accidentally" touch his arm (right, 'cause I slightly brush along my speaking partners elbow all the time, it just happens), gazing at him from below but looking away often to appear mysterious and aloof. I bet it's going to be an especially mysterious sight when my fingers get tangled in a big knot in my hair and I can't fix it because I've gotten some mascara in my eye ("for a seducing look") from all the upward glancing.

But the worst thing, which sadly comes up in EVERY SINGLE ONE of these kind of articles is the completely pointless and contradictory sentence: "Just be yourself".
How, pop culture, fashion and teen magazines, how can you think that a girl who reads this particular piece of advice, who is desperately searching for a step-by-step manual on how to finally get this stupid guy who never does to notice her, would ask for you to tell them there is nothing else to do but simply "being"? This is not about finding inner peace and confidence! Why on earth should we read your tips if we could handle it all by ourselves?

Sure, I'm not saying you shouldn't be yourself. In fact, real love is probably never ever going to be something we can force on us or anybody else by wearing dangly earrings. My point today, however, is that while those "48 dating rules" etc. are fun to read and try, they sometimes really lack the originality needed to at least appear serious.

But hey, since I currently can't give you any sensible optional guidance either (I'm a writer, not a wizard), I'd suggest you smile a lot, but not always at him, and let the rest come naturally....It might actually happen.

Love,

Rosy Smith

Ps: Disclaimer: I'm definitely not pleading innocent when it comes to putting my hope into these things. That's why I'm allowed to make fun of them.