Monthly Archives: May 2016

Is it too late now to say sorry?

Life is full of decisions, we all know how it is. Some of them are easy, some of them are more difficult. Sometimes we find ourselves at a crossroads. We’re confused and we don’t know what to do. Some aspects hint to one direction, others in a completely different one. Life can be really really hard. With Gucci having such a glorious comeback in the recent times, I imagine you’re having feelings similarly to the ones just described when it comes to flashy label belts, the ones with a logo as a buckle – are they back? To wear or not to wear? Actually no, right? But maybe yes?

Have no fear, I got ya – I’m here to guide you through this one. I’ll always be here for you.

To avoid any kind of confusion that might arise, let’s just quickly anticipate my point here – I’m sure you’ve already guessed it anyway. The answer is plain and simple: f*cking no. There never was, there never will be a time for label belts. Never ever. Not Gucci, not Fendi, not Hermès and sure as hell not Louis V. None of them. Not if taste isn’t a completely alien concept to you. Trust me.

Label belts are a huge warning sign for me. Women with label belts is something I kind of accept with a commiserative shake of the head – hormones and stuff: one day you eat your whole f*cking fridge out and are still hungry, next day you decide to buy that cute little fugly Louis V belt that only works with washed out Miss Sixty jeans from 15 years ago and a matching belly button piercing, maybe. But men! I am absolutely positively sure that a guy with a f*cking 800$plus H gracing his balls can only be a huge f*cking douche, no matter what.

I’m not saying that my fashion sense is the best and I sure as hell don’t go without failing when it comes to fashion – I am well aware that my fondness of colorful outfits is not everybody’s cup of tea, for example. But, as with many things, there’s always a difference between bad and worse or absolutely unacceptable. Label belts are the latter. They are the epitome of tackiness. A distinctive mark of the tribe of the primitive anonymous. A modern tramp stamp for both sexes. Hideous. An absolute no-go.

Trust me, I’m not being a bitch here, I’m just trying to talk some sense into you. Me too, I have friends with such belts who I actively choose to love whenever I see them wearing them, even though they make me question everything that I appreciate about our friendship. Me too, I fell in love with a guy who seriously thought that flashy label belts were a thing at some point – something that almost cost us our first encounter. Imagine the horror of finding countless photos featuring Gucci and Fendi belts during your first intense Facebook stalking-session. Whyyyyy? It almost crushed my hope of having found a potential candidate for my heart and hand. Thank god I was desperate enough to think that his views might change. Because they did. It’s ok now. Contact me if you’re looking to buy cheap old Gucci and Fendi belts. Think enemies.

If you think that my opinion is too harsh, let me put this the other way: name one person with style who’s wearing them on a regular and or voluntary basis, I challenge you. Attention: bloggers, of course, don’t count, seeing that they are as close to a wh*re as you can get, without taking your clothes off. They will wear whatever the highest bidder will tell them to wear, no questions asked. And they are also the one’s who are currently jumping on the new Gucci-belt wagon.

Anyway guys, I came to tell you that it’s never too late, believe me. Even if you have, at some point in life, chosen the wrong turn and bought a belt with a flashy label buckle. You can always give it back. You can always be cruel and sell it to somebody looking for an accessory to match their Speedy bag. You can always send it as far away from yourself as possible. Or you can always just throw it in the garbage, where it f*cking belongs. Let go of it. See it as an investment in your dignity. I promise to never mention it to anybody.

It’s never too late to say sorry, trust me.



P.s.: To all you offended fans of label belts, here’s my disclaimer. If you had to agree with – almost? – every word I just said, I think you’ll like my Facebook page, too.

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They say that men are the stronger of the sexes. I think we’ll have to agree to disagree here, but I’ll gladly accept it if we can make the following limitation: they might be generally stronger physically – even though there are many many examples of viragos out there that could scare the living crap out of most men – but they are definitely inferior when it comes to seeing through the simple things in life, like their favorite toys in the world: women.

Now don’t worry, this is not supposed to be a feminist manifesto about the pros and cons of the superiority of the female sex. It’s also not a deep analysis of what women mean when they say yes or no. It’s just the observations of a girl who’s baffled by the naiveté occasionally displayed by guys who usually explain the world to her – guys who have no problem understanding complex correlations of the universe or memorizing detailed features of countless cars but turn out to be adorably clueless when it comes to the functions of the other sexes body and all the mysteries behind it.

If, as a woman, you want to have a really good laugh, let a man explain the functions of your cookie box to you – like where does which fluid come out of, where exactly does the baby come from and where do you put the tampon in? You could think these should not be too complicated questions, seeing that they know where to enter you (nine times out of ten). But the look on a man’s face when somebody explains the basics of a vajayjay to them for the first time is priceless. You can see their brains rattling: astonishment, incredulity, enlightenment, curiosity, disgust – all at once. They are not sure if they even want to know in detail how on earth it is possible to use the toilet without removing the wad of cotton wool that is hidden between your legs, but they realize that there’s a completely unknown world of ah’s and wow’s connected to one of their favorite places in the world inside your lap.

Anything that has to do with your period is a secret, really, mostly because the whole topic is so weird to them. Like, blood coming out of a wound on their finger is just blood. A man who doesn’t like his steak medium rare is just a huge f*cking pussy. But as soon as it is coming from inside a girl, on a monthly basis, it is completely different – it is the most disgusting thing in the world, can we please not talk about it? Also: does every girl have this or am I the only guy who has to deal with the monthly restrictions linked to it? Oh, your body changes, like, my second favorite part of your body might hurt and slash or change in size? Interesting.

Which leads us to anything that has to do with sex. There’s some things that only men who have had a serious relationship will ever know – like, rotating movements of your hip don’t do the trick. Like, not at all. Really. I’m sorry. Nope. Also, I know that you enjoy touching particular parts of our bodies but you also have to know that there’s a difference between stroking or gentle rubbing and intensive kneading, turning an erogenous zone into a really really painful zone. F*cking stop, I beg you. I have already touched upon this subject earlier – how, contrary to male belief, women don’t always have to scream as if they were being slaughtered in order to enjoy it and how it has to do little with physical attraction if a woman isn’t up for anything 24/7.

And then there’s that mystery that surrounds women and their relationship with other women. Men will always think – or hope – that there’s a lot going on when women meet in the absence of the other sex. There’s no f*cking way you can keep your hands to yourself during a sleepover – men just know you’re hiding something from them. Sweet, sweet secrets.

The list is really endless and I invite you to share your favorite misconceptions and legends here. I’d love to hear them all as addition to the twelve volume encyclopedia I’m planning to publish on this topic.

They have no f*cking clue, trust me.




P.s.: I hope this didn’t offend you, but if it did – please consult my disclaimer. If you kind of agreed, I think you should visit me on Facebook – xoxo

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I don’t know about you but I’ve been seeing many people in my FB timeline sharing this one particular video about so called ‚mansplaining’ lately – only women, surprise, surprise – and of course I had a couple of feelings about it which I can’t not share with you, even though I should be studying for my exams, urgently. So I suggest we just make this a quick one, alright?

This is just another one of the numerous times when I’m happy to be a woman so I can say this: Boo-f*cking-whoo, ladies. Boo-f*cking-whoo.

I’m actually lost for words about the fact that so many of the people that I know and have normal conversations with – most of them quite pleasant, actually – would share something like this and it makes me rather mad, to be honest. Next time you decide to share something, please keep something in mind: every time you’re sharing something this generalized on social media, you’re sharing this in the name of all of us, to a certain extend. Because we all know how quickly people catch on to generalizations – and why the hell would any of us like to be generalized as whiny, annoying and helpless?

Because while you’re probably thinking that you’re sharing a real opinion piece in the spirit of being a true #girlboss, the video is screaming something very different. It’s a video complaining about the fact that men are so so mean to us and they don’t take us women seriously and of course we won’t accept it, because we all know that we have so much to say and all of it is valuable and we want to be heard and we won’t let you suppress us lalalala. Notice how goddamn annoying this is? Yep, and that’s basically the essence of the video that you’ve just shared.

Don’t get me wrong: I’m all for being a #girlboss. Of course I am. And the exciting thing about it is that we – me and all of my acquaintances who have shared the video and also you reading this, most probably – live in a time (and parts of the world) when being a #girlboss is not just a fairytale, an impossible dream to reach. We all know that a lot is possible, anything really, if we work for it.

Which is why there’s something that I don’t get: If you’re such a #girlboss – why don’t you shut up about it and just do whatever the f*ck you want? Because last time I checked there were many examples of successful, powerful, respected, intelligent, witty, badass women out there. Uncountable living proofs of the fact that anything is possible, even – wow! – making people listen to you, respect you, despite of the fact that you’re a woman. And it’s not just super famous people I’m talking about, it’s also women I come across in my everyday life. Crazy, right?

And you know what all of these #girlbosses have in common? They never f*cking complain. They never whine about whatever they find unfair. They don’t ask, they don’t tell, they don’t apologize, they don’t explain – they just do. They just go out and take control. Simple. And everybody understands.

Now if this sounds exaggerated and dramatic to you, I think you need to change your perspective. You need to work on yourself. You need to be the one who creates value, not the one asking for permission to take your place. You need to know what you bring to the table – and everybody else will follow. And if they don’t – you’re just probably not there yet. Simple.

And now be a #girlboss and talk back to me 🙂

You’re not a #girlboss if you have to let people know in the first place – trust me.



P.s.: If you’ve shared the video and think I’m a mean B – please don’t take this personally and consult my disclaimer. If you agree – why don’t you visit me on Facebook? xoxo

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The 10 commandments of #instafame

Yesterday, during a short screenshot-exchange session with a friend of mine #girlswillknow I noticed that a girl who we know back from uni had treated herself to a couple of followers in a way that I have mentioned in my last post on practices of influencers. From 300 to 4k followers in about a month? Good for you, girl – but make sure to make a quality check next time, because in combination with only 30 likes on your pictures, this just doesn’t add up, you know?

But I’m not here to hate on irrelevant stuff, I’m here to be a nice person and give you some further tips on how to ace that #instafame, because judged on your feedback to my last post, I can tell you’re eager to know what it really takes to have a successful account on Instagram. Only because I don’t really stick to them, doesn’t mean I don’t know them:

  • Keep a diversified feed: Yes, people love pictures of people, but you don’t want to share your face too much otherwise some bitter b*tch might call you narcissistic or ‘not as pretty in real life as in the pictures anyway’. Make sure to post food and flowers regularly. If you don’t travel regularly but live in a bigger city, pictures of pretty, colorful buildings are an option. Pets are great, too, but if your poodle’s fur looks like that of your favorite teddy back from 1990, you should again make sure not to overshare it. Unless you make up a sad story about why your poor baby has a weird resemblance of tuna. That could work.
  • Food: Make sure your breakfast is either pretty and healthy enough to share, hashtag clean and all, or too sinful not to share. Same goes for lunch, but please make sure to let everybody know you’re having it in the company of somebody else, otherwise people might think you have nothing but your followers when you’re really going for ‘watch me be effortlessly perfect’. Skip dinner, unless you eat at a really fancy place, in that case skip lunch instead. If you’re more of a juice cleanse and salad girl, make sure to hold an ice cream sandwich every now and then, otherwise people might think you’re anti fun or something. If you don’t go to restaurants regularly but still really want to share your food, just make sure to show only about a third of the portion you’re actually eating. Some things should stay private and you’re trying to be a role model here.
  • Be an intellectual: The occasional book or museum shot will make sure for people to understand that you can read and know who Van Gogh or Picasso were – opt for Schiele or Munch if you want to seem even more sophisticated. In terms of books, classics are a must, but don’t let people know you’re reading The Little Prince for the first time, unless you’re under 14 years old. I read it last year at the beach and I did not make a big deal out of it. If you’re a girl, #girlboss is a modern must, just as seems to be Love x Style x Life – don’t waste your time on How to be a Parisian, it looks cute but is such a waste of time. If you’re a male, I recommend Straight to Hell. Also: decide whether you’re the eBook type or the old-fashioned type. Whenever I hold my pink Kindle, I’m well aware that I’m compromising on my intellectual bonus big time.
  • Be active: show people you’re working out, traveling, whatever – just don’t talk about your real life too much if you’re still a student or work in an ordinary function or at an ordinary company. Nobody f*cking cares. Of course, working at a fashion magazine or at a fashion company is glam, so mention the sh*t out of it if you do. Start with your bio.
  • Talking about bios: No matter how pretty you feel, don’t call yourself a model or influencer or the like – if you are somebody, people will know. If they don’t you’re just not there yet.
  • Captions: Never underestimate captions, they can add a special touch to your image. Yes, Bazan and Chiara seem to do just fine without shining with rhetorical skills, but if you know Leandra Medine, you’ll know about the undeniable charm of a witty add-on to a visual display. Warning: deep quotes, motivational blabla or the lines of your fav songs are NOT what I’m talking about. I repeat: do not f*cking annoy us with pseudo deep nonsense and stuff some famous person supposedly said a couple of years ago.
  • Filters: very important. Stick to one or two, you want your whole feed to look like one, perfect work of art. Bright pictures work better than dark ones. A very white feed seems to be the sh*t at the moment. Unless you’re going for cool and ‘I couldn’t care less’, then moody pictures are a thing, too.
  • Be individual: but don’t overdo it. Like… being brave enough to mention you enjoy Justin Bieber hits just the right spot between a dirty little secret you share with your beloved followers and a common guilty pleasure shared by pretty much every female around the world, except for the goth chicks. When it comes to outfits: stick to the basics, don’t overdo it with the color, it’s not considered authentic or practicable or whatever. I suggest you stick to b/w and try a crazy red lipstick now and then, maybe a really dark shade on Sundays, a pink pop when your excited for spring to finally have arrived, you get the point.
  • Chose your shadow wisely: if you want to make yourself the star of your feed, you’ll need to have a helping hand, a partner in crime, a silent observer. Somebody taking action shots of you while you’re busy ignoring the camera. Somebody making sure you look ten times better than you do in real life. It’s more complicated than one might think. You don’t want to look in the camera too much, because you’re obviously not here for the attention, you just want to be you and let everybody know you’re amazing while looking amazing – and not only from one and the same angle. Exhausting. I can’t tell you how many shot it takes the boy and me to transform the puffy dwarf that I am into something I’m willing to share with the world, but trust me, both of you will need a lot of patience because unfortunately you can’t f*cking read each other’s minds.

Last and not least, but absolutely crucial: know your audience. All of the above needs to be adapted, depending on who you’re trying to reach. There’s a niche for everything. You don’t have to be #allhighfashioneverything to be interesting to people – girls with Michael Kors bags need somebody to relate to, too. You don’t have to be a skinny b*tch for people to like you – just make sure to use hashtags like #teamselflove and eat whatever the f*ck you want. There’s a lot of girls out there who don’t want to feel guilty about never saying no to cheese (Like me. I’m talking about me here). If you’re into showing skin, why the hell not – you won’t be the only one on team #mybodymyrules, but don’t complain publicly as soon as the dickpick DMs start rushing in. The thing with not mentioning who you are in your bio doesn’t account for vegans, obviously – if you’re a vegan, mention the sh*t out of that #fuckfur and #fuckanimalcruelty, too. If you’re obsessed with cars you can’t buy, post them, if you’re dreaming of Swiss watches, post them, and if you’re lucky enough to have a super rich dad, be a #richkidofinstagram, loud and proud. The only thing I dont support is feet: if you’re into naked toes, keep that shit to yourself.

That’s it from my side, I think you get the idea. Please let me know if you think I’ve missed an important thing here, always happy to hear from you.

And now go out and get that #instafame. Stay humble – but still let bitches know.


P.S.: I hope this post didn’t offend you, but if it did, here’s my disclaimer. But if girlcasm makes you smirk even a little, I think you should visit my Facebook page. Deal?

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A couple of days ago I was asked about my fame on Instagram. The totally earnest question about how I got 4’000 people to follow my daily #ootd and occasional smoothie post made me smirk. Not only because 4k is as close to fame on Instagram as for your granny to understand why the f*ck you’d prepare your breakfast to look perfect on a picture, but also because the person asking was from my university – a place that prides itself to educate people in business better than a lot of other places do. I’ve decided to say a couple of words about my insane fame and that of so called influencers, just a quick shoutout, really, to make sure we’re all on the same page here…

It’s a weird world that we live in, I know – people are posting pictures of their life in order for other people to like and comment on them and hopefully follow them. What used to be denounced as narcissism or socially awkward for one reason or another, has long evolved in a huge business. Yes, I believe that Chiara Ferragni and other ‘pioneers’ started their blogs in order to share their style and interests, without really thinking about actively providing inspiration for other people, but that time has long gone. Already Kristina Bazan didn’t start by borrowing bags from friends and taking pictures of outfits just because she couldn’t find another hobby. That girl came with a purpose. I am absolutely sure that nowadays most people who open a new Instagram account and put some effort in it don’t do it just for the fun of it. They are hoping to become an influencer, too.

So… influencers – am I the only one who can’t f*cking hear that world anymore? Influencers is the new ‘model’ – everybody with a f*cking Instagram profile and +10k followers calls himself an influencer these days. I don’t know how often I have already stumbled upon this and thought to myself how I’d love to grab that person’s hair and hold their face under a water jet until he or she tells me how exactly having 8k creepy dudes from some arabic country following you makes you an influencer. Because that’s what 90% of every thousand followers you have consist of: creepy men looking to send you dick pics and people with other really weird preferences, fake follower accounts, business accounts of whatever dump that actually doesn’t need an Instagram account or people who just follow you in the hope you might follow back, but unfollow if you don’t. I invite you to make an analysis of the followers of a random public profile.

Dear ‘influencers’, let’s be honest here: Followers don’t come because you’re special, followers come because you’ve come to them first, which means either you bought them or you annoyed the crap out of them until they followed you. I don’t want to go into super boring details here but besides buying followers, you can even pay for robots to make comments in the name of your accounts. So if you ever wondered why somebody commented wow amazing shot under a really cheesy quote you posted, why they keep making the same identical comment over and over again – I’m looking at you, @babbleventure, LG Daniela – or why they seem to start following you each day from anew – now you know. I know it’s mean to call people out, but this is something that annoys me so much, I even get blocked regularly, because I ask people to stop. Even an increasingly popular Swiss blogger with about 44k – let me know if you know who I’m talking about 😉 – keeps posting the most fake comments on random profiles just to make sure she gets noticed.

So basically, Instagram and its hype about followers is often just a big fat lie or a lot of work, less about passion than one might think and certainly not really about being special or interesting – which should be logical, right? I mean, why would you want to follow hundreds of girls with the same style? The same bags? The same bodies? The same passions? Yes, for some few it can turn into a great business opportunity and more and more deals, but most of it is totally overrated and not admitted, neither by the so called influencers nor by the brands who try to collaborate with them. Because the truth is: you can’t track your influence, not via Instagram, because you can’t follow a person from there to a shop and see whether she bought that stupid detox tea somebody advertised or not. But, you know, hope springs eternal.

The real art here is creating engagement and genuine interest in something that stands for more than hours of hours of taking and editing pictures and if you ask me, that’s really not that easy to find and also needs a lot more explanation than just a short caption and a few hashtags here and there.

I’ll be completely honest with you: Instagram is not my baby and not my world, hence the missing storytelling on there – I consider it a bait for girlcasm. Yes, for some reason I enjoy sharing my outfits on Instagram, but that’s probably just because I’m bored by the mass of b/w outfits, Sam Smith appreciation and Chloé Drew bag overload, not because I want to tell some kind of fairytale story. In word and deed I’m not looking to drag you to another platform to talk about fashion or detox tea, I want to engage people in mean talk aka girlcasm – not to do a very inspiring job here, obviously, just in order to be a little more real about whatever seems fake to us.

The truth is: I’m not super creative myself, which is why I’ve decided to write posts about topics that people suggest from now on, in order to make sure I talk about stuff that interests you, too. So come on, challenge me – if you spot something fake slash annoying you want to talk about, let me know – in the comments, or as a direct message, I’d love that! Until then, please remember:

So overrated, trust me.



P.S.: I hope this post didn’t offend you, but if it did, here’s my disclaimer. But if girlcasm makes you smirk even a little from time to time from time to time, I think you should visit my Facebook page. Deal?

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