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A left for his post-apocalyptic LARP earlier today and I miss him already - not going to see him for a good three weeks, as I'm leaving for my summer vacation before he comes home. I'm looking forward to that very much, but getting through the few remaining days before we go feels rather dismal at the moment.
I'm going to Kesudalen, though. I spent all my childhood summers there, so I could go on and on about the place, but I'm trying to keep this firmly style-related, so instead I'll talk about how much interesting old junk that accumulates in a distant and primitive mountain cabin when it's been in the same family for over three generations, going on four - my maternal grandfather bought it together with my great-grandfather and a friend of his after WWII, for skiing, fishing and the like, and since you have to do a minimum of three kilometer's walking to get there from the car, nothing gets thrown away unless you absolutely have to.
So there are lots of things like these lying around, for example. Snow goggles, aluminium with brown leather and black elastic, no idea exactly how old, but old enough; decidedly not brought there by my mother or aunt, so one of the older generations. Vision is surprisingly good through them, those little slots are cunningly placed. They're upside down in this photo, though.
There are several different variations on the theme in the same drawer, but I thought these were the coolest as a fledgling rivethead and brought them down to Stockholm with me. They probably haven't seen much snow in the last forty years, but quite a few industrial clubs in the last twelve.
I was going to post some funny old photo of me being around 19 and too cool for school, wearing these goggles, but all I can find online are pictures of me being around 22 and making silly faces at the camera with an old friend, who used to borrow them a lot, and that doesn't cut it. I did find a bunch of physical photographs - you know, the kind printed on paper that no one bothers with anymore - but that demands a scanner, and I don't have access to one right now.
So I'm posting one photo of an experiment I did with a friend last summer instead, for lack of "authentic" pictures - we dressed up as ourselves in the late 90's, as near as we could, for a Blümchen-themed event at a local 90's club.
I had my hair in a short A-line bob back then, so I did my hair the way I imagine that I might have worn it if I'd had long hair then; two large buns. Everything, from the goggles over the longsleeved babydoll dress down to my last, very tired pair of steel-toed GettaGrip oxfords, is part of my wardrobe from those years. I remember wearing the dress and the previous pair of steel-toed shoes to the first live show I saw on my own, a Frontline Assembly gig in -95.
I can honestly say that I hadn't enjoyed myself as much as that in a long time. It turned out exactly as I had hoped - I managed to relive some of that sense of joy and wonder I had for a couple of years back then, when almost everything was new and exciting. Definitely interesting as a simple sartorial experiment.
I'm going to Kesudalen, though. I spent all my childhood summers there, so I could go on and on about the place, but I'm trying to keep this firmly style-related, so instead I'll talk about how much interesting old junk that accumulates in a distant and primitive mountain cabin when it's been in the same family for over three generations, going on four - my maternal grandfather bought it together with my great-grandfather and a friend of his after WWII, for skiing, fishing and the like, and since you have to do a minimum of three kilometer's walking to get there from the car, nothing gets thrown away unless you absolutely have to.
So there are lots of things like these lying around, for example. Snow goggles, aluminium with brown leather and black elastic, no idea exactly how old, but old enough; decidedly not brought there by my mother or aunt, so one of the older generations. Vision is surprisingly good through them, those little slots are cunningly placed. They're upside down in this photo, though.
There are several different variations on the theme in the same drawer, but I thought these were the coolest as a fledgling rivethead and brought them down to Stockholm with me. They probably haven't seen much snow in the last forty years, but quite a few industrial clubs in the last twelve.
I was going to post some funny old photo of me being around 19 and too cool for school, wearing these goggles, but all I can find online are pictures of me being around 22 and making silly faces at the camera with an old friend, who used to borrow them a lot, and that doesn't cut it. I did find a bunch of physical photographs - you know, the kind printed on paper that no one bothers with anymore - but that demands a scanner, and I don't have access to one right now.
So I'm posting one photo of an experiment I did with a friend last summer instead, for lack of "authentic" pictures - we dressed up as ourselves in the late 90's, as near as we could, for a Blümchen-themed event at a local 90's club.
I had my hair in a short A-line bob back then, so I did my hair the way I imagine that I might have worn it if I'd had long hair then; two large buns. Everything, from the goggles over the longsleeved babydoll dress down to my last, very tired pair of steel-toed GettaGrip oxfords, is part of my wardrobe from those years. I remember wearing the dress and the previous pair of steel-toed shoes to the first live show I saw on my own, a Frontline Assembly gig in -95.
I can honestly say that I hadn't enjoyed myself as much as that in a long time. It turned out exactly as I had hoped - I managed to relive some of that sense of joy and wonder I had for a couple of years back then, when almost everything was new and exciting. Definitely interesting as a simple sartorial experiment.