Pictures

Let me begin by telling you a little story. My grandfather passed away when I was five - obviously, that came as a huge surprise to me, having had no concept or consideration of death at that point. All I knew was that he was sick and had to sit in the garden stool while I pranced around in the garden and climbed onto his knees one summer day, and that's when he gave me a camera. A small Canon MP, a non-digital one, of course, since I'm old and in the early 2000s, we still took real photographs. I remember playing photo shoot with my dolls (before I knew how much postal work goes into the real ones). As it goes, I misplaced it in the house somewhere, my parents got a digital one and did not buy any more film and I got a camera phone. But today I found an adorable little packet of Kodak in my Christmas candy bag, and now I relish in fantasies of artsy analog shots of me and my friends that have the same fascinating air of "Being in the sun-squinting, drink-spilling, glitter-powder moment memories" to them.


Ghosts

Currently, I'm sitting on the plane (typing into my phone in astonishingly bad spelling) to Hamburg - For the first time since February! I'm doing something university related with some of the girls and we feel like we're thirteen and on a field trip again, but I'm flying out there on my own and I'm seeing ghosts. That happens to me more frequently recently. No, not dead people or anything like that (please, I can't even watch those movies). But two rows up front across from me, there's a guy who looks a lot like my certain someone. At least from behind. I've been staring at his neck intently and missing the security demonstration, desperately trying to make out some big difference. I know it's not him - I know he is not even in the country right now, much less should he be on his way to Hamburg, and despite all of my darkness he would definitely say hi to me. Oh, this is stupid, because of course I would recognize my certain someone with total certainty. I'm just freaked out by some clean cut dark hair on the back of a slender neck. This guy has a much longer nose, anyways. Maybe I can ask him to show me his profile all through the flight, so I don't have to be so freaked out. Now I'm peering at him with a disgusted expression (not because I'm actually disgusted but because I'm highly irritated and it's too early for composure) from behind the drinks wagon like a crazy, lovesick hawk.

Oh my. See you on the ground.

Hamburg, my love

I'm back! Not in my beloved apartment (I need to check again if the guy who usually lives there is planning to move. But I think he's getting scared of me randomly texting him), but in a very bohemian place in the Schanzenviertel, which is a bit like the trendy bit of Brooklyn of Hamburg, with three of my fashion college girls. We're a perfect set of roomies, cozying up in the living room around a jar of sweets and having supermarket-dinner around the sturdy dark-wood kitchen table, sitting on the creaked floor boards. We have a Bachelor's seminar during the day (sooo many numbers this time - business planning sounded more glamorous than "spreadsheets" in my head, but that was the primarily used term allover) but spent the evenings having pasta at an Italian restaurant where they played opera (always a quality criteria), having strong red and really bad white wine in our neighborhood and finally, wandering around the Christmas market next to the Alster - I'm sure this city is beautiful in summer, but I absolutely adore it all dolled up for Christmas. Take a little look....

 The shrill ringing of the alarm clock at an unholy hour wasn't exactly the most charming start of the day, but I got up eventually and tried to ignore the fact that it was still dark outside (isn't that the worst about early mornings?) and I definitely shouldn't be up already.

Those were the first lines I wrote about my first day at fashion school many, many moons ago (okay so three years and three months, if you gotta know the cold numbers). Those are also very versatile phrases describing pretty much every other morning of my time as a student there. Yesterday night, I met up with my classmates and my journalism professor to eat Christmass-y food and drink wine (not me though, living the car commute life) and to celebrate the fact that we made it - seven semesters of early mornings, close-cut deadlines, hidden online shopping, creative differences and most importantly, so much progress. I am the definition of mixed feelings at the moment. I mean, I've anticipated this for so long - I struggled with doubts for about a year and a half that included lots of crying and craving soup, then stopped crying so much and ate a stupid amount of avocado - went to Hamburg, which was lovely in most ways, and after that it was what felt like two weeks of school, late night texting and boom I can delete InDesign. And oh my goodness, that's awesome. But there's also something mellow (and believe me, no one is more surprised than me), and I think that has mostly to do with a) having been in a comfort zone of moodily stomping the lofty hallways and talking back at the professors for so long and b) being very used to seeing that crazy chaotic bunch of people every single morning. See, we might not always get each others' vision, but at the end of the day, everyone appreciated the others' work and despite all the crisis talks and group therapy (you know), I get teary eyed hugging everyone goodbye. And now.

Enough with the emotionalness and onto my favorite topic to moan about - yes, of course, the ride back home! Hello darkness, my old friend, ain't it so. After a series of unfortunate delays that left some of us stranded at various stations, some en route to their beds after three hours and me kicking my heels on a lonely platform at one am, estimating the cost of a cab all the way out of the city and staring at the other side of the tracks, where two mice hid behind trash bags. Suddenly, they started running at each other until they met at their tiny mice noses and one of them flew straight up into the air, came back down and started chasing the other around the trash. I think my jaw hung open. I was close to throwing dollar bills and making a bet with the guy waiting next to me (we were having a bit of small talk since we were both hella annoyed with the delay of the last train, but small talk with guys I don't find attractive always makes me uncomfortable because I am astonishingly shallow). Right before my phone died, I saw the reassuring headlights coming at me in slow motion, which explained the delay but also seemed like pure cruel mockery at this point, and at around quarter past two (and after coughing my lungs out in the car because I ran to the car park like a haunted animal 'cause every bad crime series I've ever seen jumped into my head at once) I finally fell into bed. Only to set a painfully early alarm for a dentist visit at eight.

You know what, I'll think I'll take a nap.

Love,

Rosy Smith

You should know, that since I've been very stressed with finishing school these last few weeks (through my own fault for starting late, but still), I haven't exactly kept my room in presentable condition, and I am not one of those people who say that and mean that they did not pick up a book from their dresser. I mean that you are going to trip over a pile of books instead, hit your knee on an unpacked suitcase and land face down in a heap of clothes. I heard myself promise that I'd deal with that in December, but so far I've only sorted out the laundry and patted myself on the back for that.

However, apart from that unfaced quest, I've been a very good girl today, preparing a presentation in my soft office (I learned that expression from Louise Pentland on YouTube; it is so important to my daily life) writing note cards and everything. I even used one of those graphics that Power Point gives you. I am so pulling through to a path of success.


Then, on my way to an actual university lecture (not the one I studied at, but still, aren't I academic today), I sat down to wait for my transportation and a little girl with short curls and big brown eyes randomly approached me and apparently decided to become my friend. Don't get me wrong, I think it's cute and I'm glad my resting facial expression is nice enough for a kid to not get scared, but she just got so close- prepping herself up on my knees like I was Santa's wife and stroking my jewellry and laughing really explosively in between telling me to hold her dolly so she could take an imagined photograph. It does sound quite cute, but I'm not exactly used to kids, so I probably had a fearful look in my eyes while I thought about all the germs on those little fingers (to be fair, I caught hand foot and mouth disease last year in Hamburg and it was SO ITCHY)

Oh and the lecture was really good! I always feel a bit out of place at the "real" university because I'm used to the same ten people wearing artistic black and talking about online shopping finds to me (not that they're all not intelligent, but that's the kind of thing we talk about. In an intelligent way), but it's actually quite fun to roam the dusty hallways and feel like an bohème art student in the sixties, or a first wave feminist studying sociology and history. I bet the people who really go there do not get that giddy vibe every day, though. Anyways, I dressed in half-vintage for the occasion, wearing a soft black wool sweater and a soft grey skirt with a bold pink belt for a bookish-but-fashion-forward look. The prof holding the lecture was a pretty black woman with only one amethyst colored earring and a matching wool sweater (ha) and she used lovely terms such as "epistemic" and talked about fugitive archives in the context of remembering colonialisation and I feel like I did a work-out for my mind, which is very refreshing and should be done more often.

Shameful lecture hall outfit picture

Then I went home and had more of the devilish birthday cake.

Love,

Rosy Smith

(everybody now!) BUT I'M FEELING 22!

Well, lovelies, every age has its advantages, and one of this' is certainly the opportunity to shout out that Taylor Swift bop all. year. long! It has a line for every occasion, doesn't it?

I've spent last night ringing in my birthday with some of my bestest friends (those who aren't in Europe right now - which is, by the way, a fun thing I have planned to be doing soon!), eating pizza and drinking cosmos ( I know someone who didn't know what those were and I am still recovering from my sheer bafflement. Satc wasn't a thing for them, either. Like, you gotta know that to understand half of what I'm saying) and serving a mud cake that, if I do say so myself, is chocolate heaven (but you should refrain from eating anything else for two hours to let your body rest). I got the recipe from a blog called  Sweetest Menu if you wanna experience the rush!

Oh my, I just had a coughing fit from eating a chocolate foam thingie.

Anyways, I got a few more hours of being a birthday gal and having the prerogative to be surrounded by balloons and presents so I'm gonna proceed to shake my flapper dress now!

Love,

Rosy Smith

It's been a while, my lovelies! But here I am, and so much has happened, and so much WILL happen that I am very very excited to totally blow out of proportion and share with you in my usual biased way....

I kinda sorta somehow graduated fashion college! Have not gotten my diploma yet because honestly, the administration is not exactly known for speed, but it's done, it's over and I will never ever have to worry about my pictures not being 300 dpi or a font I like seeming not modern enough to my professor's sacred taste. I am ecstatic. Even though it means that....

I kinda sorta somehow have to get a job this coming year. I'm still studying for my bachelor's degree until June for my own academic satisfaction but meanwhile, I'd like to change out of my sweats and get off my study sofa, put on some pretty shoes and earn some money writing (oh, I sound so goshdarn optimistic about that, it's lovely). Let's hope this time the magazine doesn't shut down as soon as I get there like the last one did (better not mention that coincidence on my resume, I guess)!

I kinda sorta somehow make up texting games that only I know the rules to, so I'm not sure if it's working or if I should lay out the rules more openly. Don't get it? See, me neither!

I kinda sorta somehow turn another year older tomorrow! I'm having my 22nd birthday party tonight and it'll be a blur of silver, Cosmos and cake. I got myself a flippin' flapper dress and I intend to shake it all night long. I gotta run and do my make-up, so this is a short one, but it feels good to be back!

See you tomorrow,

Love,

Rosy Smith