Monthly Archives: February 2016


You know what’s even more annoying than disgusting couple pictures all over social media? Couple profiles on social media.

It’s always good to keep things in perspective, especially your own behavior, which is why I’ll start this off by saying that I know that I myself am rather annoying when it comes to my boyfriend – I have a private profile on Instagram which I keep to follow my close friends and for them to follow a profile where I don’t post outfits or whatever girly stuff that I post on @girlcasm. But if I was to be honest with myself…it’s just filled with disgusting selfies of me and the boy. Sunday selfie, first tulips of the year, New Year’s Eve, etc, you name it, I have it all and sometimes I try to mix it up with pictures of my family or the boy’s dog or whatever I can find that doesn’t scream drunk in love. I’m not sure if this makes it any better, though, so I’d like to take the opportunity to apologize to all of my friends for posting one too many pictures of the boy on Instagram – I will not take it personal if you unfollow, I understand.

But wow, just imagine what an annoying person you have to be to even consider keeping a joint profile on social media, no matter what channel. That’s too much, even for me – nauseating. But these people exist.

I have only once had the pleasure of stumbling across a couple’s profile on Facebook so I really hope that this is something you don’t see too often but let’s have a moment of silence for a guy that says yes to something like that – either out of respect for being a total savage that truly doesn’t give a f*ck about nothing but his obnoxious girlfriend or out of deep compassion for a soldier that has lost his balls in a whipping somewhere along the way. It’s particularly sad that this has to come from a girl, but: Wake up bro, you’re trippin – f*cking run and never look back.

What you see more often are couples that share an Instagram account – full of couplefies and adventures that they are living together, hashtag couplegoals and all that. Just today I saw a profile of a couple from Berlin who are sharing their mutual passion for food on Instagram… If that doesn’t make you gag, what will?

Again, I’m afraid I’ll have to give those of you who are keeping one a reality check here: STAHP. Please. F*cking don’t. If you’re not blessed with a travel budget the level of Murad Osmann or the looks of Alexis Ren and Jay Alvarez, nobody will care about your mutual passion. Nobody. I adore Chrissy Teigen and John Legend and religiously like all of their couplefies and foodgrams a minimum of three times mentally and even they don’t have a joint account. And you know why?

Because space is important, just as is an own identity, a personality. Let’s be honest: no man on earth will take the initiative and suggest a joint profile. If you want to post disgusting couplefies and adventures on social media, go ahead, do it – but do it in your own name, via your own account. Let people know that you’re the disgusting one here, not your partner. If you need to be that person, be that person – but don’t force it on your innocent plus one. Have mercy. Let a man be a man. No male, no matter how much he loves you, should be forced to do this. Really.

Space is good for you, trust me.



P.s.: My disclaimer for you if you’re the owner of a couple profile – and my Facebook page if you don’t.

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You know how people who finish some sort of challenge or whatever and then want to describe what they have learned from their experience, always manage to come up with something really deep like lalala, I don’t know, you get to know your body, your soul, you get to appreciate the little things in life and all that? Today I would like to share my experience with this little detox that I did for five days, starting Monday – but don’t expect this to be as deep as a hardcore vegan’s deep bullshit philosophy on food…

Remember? Me, a passionate carnivore, I ate vegetables and fruit only for five days straight. So I didn’t sip it from a bottle, it wasn’t a corporation with some brand – I did it with my bare hands and worked for my pain: I ate it raw, I cooked it, I made smoothies…And I moaned. A lot, actually. I’m not ashamed to admit that it really wasn’t easy for me – not one day, not one moment. I f*cking hated it. I know, I’m a huge pussy.

Am I a skinny bitch now? Nah, don’t worry – I’m still your friend. I ate so much fruit and vegetables, I spooned avocados during class at uni in order to stay sane and I also rewarded myself with raw cocoa powder. I probably managed to be over that 2000 kcal mark that people always talk about every day of my ‘detox’. I was eating nonstop. I tried to keep my physical activity to a minimum because I felt so weak. I felt like I had to eat to stay alive, it was horrible, really. It wasn’t fun at all. Lesson learned: eating isn’t fun if it’s merely to stay alive.

What else did I learn? I can live without a lot of things, but not without salt, coffee and fat. A day spent without these three things is a lost day. Never again, really. I can’t tell you how many times I thought to myself I should just stop and eat like a sane person again. But I didn’t, because I’m a stubborn brat and I didn’t want to write a post about how I didn’t even manage to stay away from fat for five days…

What was I hoping to achieve with this short intermezzo? As I have said before, it had nothing to do with weight loss – I’m team fit, not skinny. I didn’t really do it for health reasons either – I am actually already rather disciplined about leading a healthy, balanced lifestyle, so I didn’t really need an intervention. But I do have three weaknesses that I would love to get rid of: eating 200g of cashew nuts seven days a week, drinking a liter of coffee every day, whether I ‘need’ it or not and cheese – eating cheese in blocks daily is super not sexy, I think we can agree. And I think that’s about it. That’s what I wanted to achieve – just a little kickstart to a life without three more or less unhealthy cravings. World-shaking.

And now? I’m happy to report that I didn’t eat nuts yet. I’m still a little afraid to eat ‘a handful of nuts’ though because chances are that I’ll just end up eating all 200g of them… I managed to cut my coffee intake for one third and it’s not easy but I’m positive that this could work. But I’m not doing good with the cheese just yet, though – I had a fair share of cheese for breakfast on my first day back to normal food and then raclette noodles for lunch…And then guess what I had for breakfast today? What can I say – fat is my kryptonite.

And that’s it. Super deep, super exciting. That’s what I have learned about myself during those five days. I feel closer to fatty food more than ever. I never want to be without it ever again. And I don’t recommend it to any of you – not my little experiment here, not any of those fancy juice cleanses and not any other gluten free/fat free/joy free lifestyle. Just eat like a normal, healthy person, for God’s sake. Keep to 80/20 – be a healthy, reasonable person 80% of the time and pig out the rest of it. That’s it. And now go and treat yourself to something tasty.

Fat is good for you, trust me.



P.s.: Did this offend you? You must have missed my disclaimer. Or do you agree? Then why don’t you go and pay me a visit on Facebook?

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It all comes down to trashy

Girls, I hate to break it to you – you know I don’t, but seriously, some of you might have to sit down for this one: natural will always beat fake. Always. Like really. Positive. Yes. Always. Just always.

I kinda hesitated talking about this topic because of course I have a lot of friends and acquaintances and thus readers who will be concerned but then, you know, I always have to remind myself that I choose not to have a so called lifestyle blog for a reason so I will go there anyway and hope they will not leave me, just the way they didn’t leave me after my little Speedy bag rant

So… natural – what do you mean? Oh you know, just plain old, natural beauty. Remember? Like no plastic, not fake, just you and what your mama gave ya – not more, not less, fair game.

Sure, me too, I feel naked without my mascara and I feel uncomfortable AF if a pimple decides to position itself right in the center of my face – but where is the limit? For me it is just there, I really don’t use more than mascara, a hint of bronzer and a little lipstick now and then. Eyeliner if I try to look special. Oh, and my brow shaper because I like thick eyebrows. You know, the way they were before people started plucking them until they were just a sad line of fluff above the eyes. I don’t mind contouring and highlighting either, as long as you know what you’re doing and not just painting your face. A memo to a lot of girls out there: an orange face never looks good and your pimples don’t look more appetizing accentuated by a thick layer of makeup. You’re welcome.

What don’t I have, what don’t I use, what wouldn’t I do? The list is long and I’m afraid it’s not final, but it encompasses dying my hair or getting extensions, permanent makeup, fake lashes, botox or any kind of permanent facial intervention like a face lift, fake nails, fake boobs, lipos, piercings, tattoos, …

Now I know that dyed hair is common and really not a biggy anymore but I still would never do it. First, because I believe that what we were born with what suits our face most, second because I’m a lazy person – I don’t want to become a slave to an outgrowing hairline, it always looks so trashy. So do poor highlights. Extensions are the mother of trashy. If you’re not rich AF and can afford having them treated regularly, you quickly end up looking wretched with that huge f*cking nest of fake hair sticking out of the back of your head.

Permanent makeup is just wow. The greenish lines you call eyebrows or lip contour remind me of Russian convicts… is this what you are going for? And other permanent treatments, fillers, liftings, botox – even if they don’t go terribly wrong like in some cases, little after little you’ll end up looking like everybody else who does it. No facial expressions, just a puffy, abused face – not younger, not pretty, just sad. You can spot those people from afar, I don’t know what they are thinking. I’m special, they won’t f*ck my face up like they did with others?

Not much to say about fake lashes except for that it’s sad that you can’t appreciate a clean, pure and natural face anymore Fake nails, though…no understanding at all. I’ve never seen fake nails that looked good, always like thick chunks of plastic glued to fingertips. Is that pretty? Again, you’re making yourself a slave, because as soon as they grow out or one breaks your hands look disgusting until you fix it. That never happens with natural nails. If you’re bad at keeping them tidy, the best is to keep them completely short and natural, with just a little nail polish if you have the time. It always looks neat and it’s also hygienic – I don’t want to imagine what is breeding under those long claws of yours. Ever seen people who really work with their hands, do something useful? Not construction workers, I mean doctors or mothers – they don’t have neither time nor use for such ideas. So go get a real job or something.

Boob jobs… as a girl with two humble friends up there, trust me, I get it. Me too I sometimes wish I had those arguments working for me, me too I sometimes can’t believe I wasn’t born looking like Emily Ratajkowski, but honestly: fake boobs just look terrible. They look like two plastic lumps sticking out of our body. People will never see you as the girl with big boobs, they’ll see you as the girl with fake boobs. And that’s not a good thing. Ask a man what he prefers – small ones that feel natural or fake ones that feel super weird and hard? If he’s not braindead, trust me, he will tell you to just chill and find other problems. And lipos? Trust me, that I get, totally. Me too I am thinking about it regularly and I wish it was as easy as it sounded. But besides the fact that I want to keep the risk of other people f*cking me up at a minimum and thus avoid any kind of surgical intervention, I have also heard that it never works out the way you wanted it to work out – because those nasty fat cells then start to grow in places you never had them before, shortly after the operation? If you don’t stop binging like a pig – why would you? – you’ll grow everything back anyway. I know it hurts to realize, but the best way to lose those pounds might be hard work and dedication after all… but at least you’ll have something to be proud of as soon as you finish. Or so they say.

Finally, piercings and tattoos. I used to have a navel piercing. Yes, I was that kind of girl and I would have gotten myself snakebites as well – shoutout to all you emos out there – if my parents hadn’t threatened to never ever buy me clothes again if I did. Yes, I have a prize. And I’m so incredibly happy about that now. I took out my belly deco when I was 18 years old because I realized I looked trashy. And so does any other piercing as well. My parents always told me that only ugly people have piercings and tattoos to draw attention to them, and I guess they have a point. I’m sorry. It just doesn’t look good. Not now and certainly not 40 years from now. Not your cute tiny symbol for infinity on your wrist and certainly not your tribal or Chinese nonsense, not your super deep line with your bestie and definitely not a huge colorful fleur-de-lis all over your f*cking back.

So I guess it all comes down to trashy. If you don’t believe me, go out and ask a man, just a random, decent man – what does he prefer? Sure, lalala, you’re doing it for yourself lalala and whatever. But just like kids, men are simple and blunt in their opinion when it comes to this. And sometimes simple is just way better than anything. Don’t be trashy, be natural. Don’t overdo it, save the fuzz for a special occasion.

Natural is good for you, trust me.



P.s.: I know for a fact that many people will be offended so here’s my disclaimer :* But if you agree, why don’t you give me a casual like on Facebook? Happy to hear your opinion.

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Happy Monday!

You might have noticed that this blogging thing has been going rather slowly. I have come to realize that – surprise, surprise – I’m not as creative and super funny as I thought I was. I mean, of course I am, just not by command. I don’t enjoy picking topic after topic and trying to text a minimum of 600 words about it whether there is enough to say about it or not, or limiting myself to a max of 900 words in order to not bore you to death. I have realized that I don’t like my posts when I have forced myself to write something because it’s been too long without a post. I also don’t want to blog about the latest trends, I don’t want to have a regular fashion post, I don’t want to give you recipes you can find all over the net anyway… you get the point.

Anyway. It’s a new week, uni has started for me again, which I feel should be accompanied with a BANG of motivation and positivity for it be good, spring is just around the corner, lalala, one thing leads to another and here I am, letting you know about this week’s new week new me project: a cleanse. Yeah, F me, I know. Not again. Not you. Yawn. Just no, right?

I don’t know, honestly, I do not know how I got here, to this point, but it just feels like the right thing to do, even if I don’t believe I will make it past 10 am of day one of five. I love my yoghurt and cheese and eggs and coffee in the morning. And don’t get me started on my meat. I lurrrrve steak. I’m a real diehard carnivore. I do care about where my meat comes from and I come from a family that pays a lot for good meat but I would never give it up. Not in order to be ‘more skinny’, not for the love of animals, just not. Call me a cold-hearted bitch all you want. And all the rest of the fun foods doesn’t come in a cleanse friendly shape either. So what the hell am I doing here, or attempting to do?

I can’t live on juice only for even just a day. I can’t. I just can’t. I love food. I love chewing. Chewing gives me a satisfaction I can’t describe and I don’t want to go sipping on some sad fluid for days. Even if it’s tasty, it’s still missing a real meal on the side. I don’t want that. I don’t want to do this to my body. Yolo and all that. Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels my ass. Chew your food as long as you still can.

So you see, I’m still the old me, so I guess it’s not a real cleanse the way you other hardcore bitches do it. I wanted to call this post ‘pussy cleanse’ but you’ll agree that this wouldn’t have been a good idea either… But what my plan for the next five days is: eat fruit and vegetables only, nothing more. No salt, no coffee, no sugar, no meat, no alcohol – but as much fruit and vegetables as I want to. As a juice, as a smoothie, cooked, raw, whatever. And flax and chia seed and cocoa powder, because I believe that won’t hurt my body either. And that’s it. Does that sound reasonable to you or not?

Why? Not because I want to lose weight, obviously – a) because I’m not a huge fan of the idea of being a skinny bitch b) because we all know that whatever you lose in that time, you’ll gain back just shortly after – even though, let’s be honest, I wouldn’t mind ending up looking like heavenly creature after those five days. I have also yet again missed the train for joining the religious fasting period for 40 days, which I’ve been wanting to try for years. I think the real reason for this step is my weird hormonal condition which I only mention to give this a sad, mysterious hint but don’t want to further elaborate on, details can be ugly. But let’s just take this as an attempt to feel fresher, energized – spring-cleaning for my body. And I hope this will work without a miserable juice cleanse…

Wish me luck – and join me, maybe?

Chewing is good for you, trust me.



P.S.: If this post has offended you, please read my disclaimer as well – and if it hasn’t, why don’t you say hi on Facebook?







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Crazy healthy #5: keep your feet warm

You haven’t heard from me in a while, not particularly because I’m lazy – maybe, yes, my brain is too lazy to think of topics to write about so I rather let it be – but mostly because I have noticed, or so I think, that my posts are always best and get the most feedback, here or privately, when I’m mad. I don’t know, it just flows better I guess or maybe it’s that you secretly like mean girls, after all.

The topic I want to talk about today is just a quick one, it didn’t exactly get me mad, but it made me think about my mother once again, who I know would totally agree with me on this. Of course – she’s the one who told me over and over again: keep your f*cking feet warm, girls.

Why am I talking about warm feet? Well you might know that it’s FW season atm and I have already watched the girls in Berlin wear heels in these temperatures with disbelief and snideness and now, of course, people are continuing to do so in NYC – with minus 17 degrees. What’s wrong with you, snitches?

I know I know I know, I’m not a fashion expert, I don’t understand, a shoe can make or break an outfit, lalala. But honestly? Apart from the pain I imagine freezing your toes off at these temperatures brings you, which already would totally make me give no f*cks at all about fashion and what a street style photographer thinks of me, it is so so bad for your health as well, you dumb-asses.

#barfuss in #heels bei #minustemperaturen – wirklich??? #fashionweek #newyork #nyfw #silviabinggeli

A photo posted by annabelle Magazin (@annabelle_mag) on

I don’t know, is this a Russian slash Eastern thing? My mother would f*cking kill me if she saw me walking around like this and I wouldn’t blame her. Especially young girls or women should be smarter than that, I’m not even looking at old, dried up fashion victims here, they don’t have their whole lives before them.

Because you know why? The cold travels from your feet straight to your female organs and that’s not good. It can lead to them ‘catching a cold’, to inflammation and pain. You know the sexy bladder infection you’ve been having from time to time, the period pain? This might come from it, silly. And you know what could be the next implication of your oh so impeccable fashion sense? Infertility or at least problems when having babies – something that, even if at the moment it might not seem too important to you, might come up a couple of years from now and it would really be sad not to be able to fulfill your female destination because of what? Fashion? It might sound overly dramatic now, but trust me, even men – if they are normal, that is – will choose kids over looks in the long run and nobody will ever remember the outfits you rocked back then.

So yes, I’ve got some bad bad news for you: your Gucci loafers were not made for winter, even if you’re walking on fur.

How about a rethinking? Somebody should start a challenge or something – how to look fashionable appropriately to season? Nothing hard about rocking summer outfits all year long, right? Leave summer to summer. So to all the girls out there who are wearing open heels in winter, ballerinas with fishnet tights or even sneakers without sucks and other funny stuff: go home, you’re dumb. Honestly. Nothing sexy or fashionable about being dumb.

Warm feet beat perfect outfit, trust me.



P.S.: If this is your first time here: this post has a number for a reason! I’ve already given super smart health advise inspired by my mother before. If this offended you, there’s always my disclaimer – but if it didn’t, please go ahead and visit my Facebook page! xoxo

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