Lebanon Hanover-OOTD- sich verlaufen



“Ich möchte mich mit dir verlaufen, nicht nur Eiskunstlaufen” ( Hall of Ice, ” I want to get lost with you, and not just do figure skating”) is one of the many lines of Lebanon Hanover we shouted into the mob last Saturday. People mostly looked like doppelgänger’s of my mother from the 80s, back when she still had a life worth mentioning, which she makes a regular point reminding me of.

I tried to capture the aesthetic of that evening with my own wardrobe in the following pictures ( since this still aims to be just a fashion blog). But furthermore I’d like to get a little more into my thoughts and feelings of the recent period of time, which oddly does emulate the sense and attitude of that New Wave era.

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Lebanon Hanover in Cologne, taken by a friend of mine who also wrote this amazing german article 

My monthly playlist consists of mostly 80s wave-goth-alien-thecure-vibes , and it followed me along this month sitting at home wondering what’s wrong with my life, making a point to move my ass and see what lies beyond my comfort zone, starting to volunteer at a local youth service, visiting concerts, and perhaps most excitingly acting for a popular TV channel in a crime series.

As I was standing in that white transporter, with a teaser in my hands, in the middle of the night in a forest, a huge camera crew outside that van, waiting for my turn to act out a murder scene, I was holding in for a minute just thinking…what the hell?! September was a month of lingering and the fact that I was standing someplace else than my familiar, suburban supermarket or dog park was just so strange and unexpected. I was doing stuff, I am doing stuff. I’ve met so many new people this month, actually acted along my feeling of being stuck instead of just acknowledging it and feeling sorry for myself and stood in that very transporter waiting to teaser a man and get paid for it, huge TV camera in my face…scary…

I’m not quite sure whether I will keep up with my new found excitement to dare, but it’s nice as long as it lasts. University started again, I’ve passed all my exams and am now hurled back into studying statistics.  It’s always about making the best out of it so I’ve learned. If you’re upset about something, acknowledge it and then find something that stops you from being upset. It sounds super vain, but dramatizing your every move won’t be moving at all.

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S k i r t: Pull& Bear

F i s h n e t  t i g h t s: Carnival shop

B l o u s e: Vero Moda

s c a r f: Zara

E a r i n g s: little boutique in Paris, self-made

s h o e s: Doc Martens

H a t: flea marcet

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time warp – flea market lookbook and how to style doc martens

I recently came across the glorious frenzy of flea market shopping. It was a rather small, suburban one in which older people go to sell all their weird possessions their husband can’t see them wearing anymore or is just old and weird. That is usually the style I seem to opt for so me and the old lady’s always seem to establish a magical bond on these events.

Since I got quite sick the past week, where I made big promises for this blog to become somewhat more than its superficial surface (oops) I really tried to cover up my red nose and go without feeling like dying for a solid 10 minutes to shoot this lookbook ( I know you guys all couldn’t live without) .

Everything is either vintage or my actual grandma’s except for the shoes, those are Doc Martens.
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i’m not physically naked in this

I would like to see myself driving, driving …just the mode of being in motion, the mode of having things around you seem like a big swirled homogenous something.

In my mind some vintage sounding song is playing. A man strumming his guitar just having a good old soliloquy in form of music. Maybe Joni Mitchel is the man I’m thinking of here…it’s close enough.

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I had a run last week, it was already 9 o’clock, a time I usually spent seated in my own comfort zone watching Grey’s Anatomy ( still hasn’t turned sour to me – note to future self, in retrospective it all looks way nastier than it felt like in the moment). The sun was setting. My dog, who had to be forced out of his basket (cause bad habits align) had to be dragged behind me on his leash. I had a run with him, of course he won, he always does, sat on the bench and watched the sunset whilst eating an apple I just picked from the apple tree nearby. I petted his head.

I was looking down onto my hometown. From way up there one can see the house I grew up in. I like to think back on the times I hustled around in a naive, carefree frenzy during this time of the year, when spending the day lying in a field of gras was the most satisfying feeling I could think of.

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The past few weeks I’ve spent studying for my upcoming exams. I feel blessed and grateful everyday when I look at my anatomy poster thinking about just how miraculously this body of ours is set up and composed. I’m fascinated by the human brain, its power, its endless depth, its mystery, its magic.

Today I’ve learned that Oxytocin, synthesized by n. supraopticus and n. paraventriclaris in the hypothalamus is being transmitted during sex equally in women and men, leading the both of them to connect, amalgamate with one another. Yet no equal feelings in consequence.

It all boils down to chemistry.

Evolutionary Theory suggest men tend to polygamy because it increases their chances of personal fitness ( which is all about distributing as many genes to a next generation as possible), they cheat on you, because they can’t help it. Women need to find a loyal man, cause their chances of getting pregnant are limited and they need someone who stays in order to help with the children.

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It all seems to make sense at least in little ways. Of course there are many more opposing theories to all this, and many more factors play a determining role, but isn’t it comforting to have easy explanations at hand such as these?!

At this point I frankly have no clue why I’m telling you all about this. I should have written all this into a diary, but somehow this felt right.

I’m grateful for all I have. I am grateful for all that life gives me, even though I act so selfish and unfair and probably don’t deserve any of this. In the end, when everything seems so highly complicated, twisted and tangled, there is an explanation to this if you look closely enough. And that in itself is comforting.

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an average fashion blog post

As for my current state of mind, it’s wandering. My sense of fashion isn’t really existent at the moment and to be frank, fashion doesn’t bother me much these days (which might be due to the fact that i’m absolutely , terrifyingly broke).

These days I mostly spent my time trying to make believe.

Trying to make believe in terms of cultural heritage, human relations, my emotions and feelings, my actual life. I spare you all the endless and ongoing monologue of me rambling about the lost cause of love in modern age (which I simply refuse to believe is a lost cause).

Instead I’ll indulge in the pleasure of filling this utterly ‘unexciting, superficial, unimportant’ fashion blog with great excitement. Its phoniness and utter uselessness is what made me start one in the first place. Isn’t it nice to have a place where nobody actually even tries to make a point, just ramble, just let all the pretty stimuli drizzle into your brain…?! Fashion can be so much more than that obviously but as I already told you, it’s not for me currently.

So let’s start this picture show you guys came to scroll down on in the first place. Here I’ll basically just post all the input I’ve been saving on my desktop lately. Clothing ideas I am into whenever I feel like dressing up once in a while.

#1 The effortless french person from the 70s and beyonde8cdc509b69efe4f33898f032aff1e09--jane-birkin-style-fashion-hair

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#2 Touch me I’m sick

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#3 mono

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#4 o v e r

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#5 i don’t know how to call this anymore so I’ll just type these words so it doesn’t look like  i am an idiot

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