Secondhand... unpublished..

THE IDEA BEHIND SIMPLY SUBLIME

THE IDEA BEHIND SIMPLY SUBLIME

After living abroad for two years, seeing different fashion trends in different countries and exploring different markets... I find myself caught up in the middle of the newest and most exciting fashion trend... Secondhand.
It's old, its new, it's vintage, it's decorative, it's inspiring, it's improvisation, it's.... used. But with a bohemian/retro/vintage touch.

"From frocks to socks to records and costume jewelry, purchases are almost cooler if used." -Regina W Bryan (Secondhand shopping streets in Barcelona)

I love the feeling of rummaging through clothes and imagining it has a history.
"Where have you been, O pink lace top? Paris?"
I love finding something great. That one item my wardrobe lacked, until now...

I love spending my time in a Secondhand shop with all its interesting objects and things (besides clothes): belts, boots, teacups, furniture, accessories... I love finding a handbag that looks just like the one my grandmother used to have (I remember because her photos are part of my childhood memories).

I love being a bit daring, a bit silly and a bit adventurous when buying, and then wearing, my new, interesting item.

After living abroad for two years, seeing different fashion trends in different countries and exploring different markets... I find myself caught up in the middle of the newest and most exciting fashion trend... Secondhand.
It's old, its new, it's vintage, it's decorative, it's inspiring, it's improvisation, it's.... used. But with a bohemian/retro/vintage touch.

"From frocks to socks to records and costume jewelry, purchases are almost cooler if used." -Regina W Bryan (Secondhand shopping streets in Barcelona)

I love the feeling of rummaging through clothes and imagining it has a history.
"Where have you been, O pink lace top? Paris?"
I love finding something great. That one item my wardrobe lacked, until now...

I love spending my time in a Secondhand shop with all its interesting objects and things (besides clothes): belts, boots, teacups, furniture, accessories... I love finding a handbag that looks just like the one my grandmother used to have (I remember because her photos are part of my childhood memories).

I love being a bit daring, a bit silly and a bit adventurous when buying, and then wearing, my new, interesting item.

When living in South Korea, a weekend in Seoul presented us with more than a few secondhand markets. Finding interesting garments in a pile was more than fun, it was an adventure. I found clothes, eg. skirts, dresses, t-shirts for myself, and my mom and sister back home, for less than R20 (2Euro). A bargain!

Secondhand market - Seoul

"As Americans look for ways to cut spending, they are scooping up bargain clothes, accessories, toys and furniture once owned by someone else. According to the article, 70% of adults surveyed last summer say that buying used is now more socially acceptable than it was a decade ago. Buying used has always been socially acceptable to me. I got in the habit of shopping at thrift stores during high school. It was the only way I could afford to add to my wardrobe." - Embracing the Thrift-Store Ethic: 18 Top Tips for Buying Used Clothes

London is the mecca for Secondhand shopping. The famous Portobello Road Market, one of London's notable street markets, known for its second-hand clothes and antiques, is one of my favorite secondhand markets I've been to. From old paintings, to china, to cutlery, to shoes... The Mecca for secondhand goods.

Secondhand & antique market - Portobello Road London

One of my recent favorite markets is the Monastiraki secondhand and antique market in Athens, Greece, right under the Acropolis. This was the most interesting market I've ever been to. Here you can find handcrafts made by the locals or real interesting antique jewellery, shoes, clothes or books... mostly anything. I loved the ruggedness of it all: The old suitcase filled with old postcards or stamps; finding a beautifully gemmed earring (but, O there's only one - because of the burglars, the woman tells me - I wonder wich one...), or just a metal piece as small as my hand with a Roman Catholic heart carved in. Rough, rugged, but so very, very interesting and odd. I could find tons of things here to put in my home. If only I had the luggage space...

Secondhand market - Athens Greece

Athens - Old suitcase

Rugged but nice - Athens

While living in Sweden one of the things that I love most about the Swedes are their fashion sense. Or no fashion sense. Their absolute "We don't care what we wear." And they look ravishing! Absolutely interesting! They mix old, new, vintage, retro, bohemian into such a delightful cocktail that I just want more and more of their fashion sense and styles! I've learned a lot after studying and doing research on their secondhand markets and shops. And what I found amazing was just how easily the Swedes can give up their unwanted goods. They all do it for a cause or a charity, which is wonderful. Visiting Secondhand and vintage shops in Gothenburg was a pleasure as "reaping the benefits" is not a cliché here. Bargain upon bargain and quality upon quality awaits you in these shops. There are many of these kind of shops, as this is the new trend in Sweden: Wear whateva! And I love it!

There are different kinds of secondhand shops: the cute, small, smells like my grandmother's house and that's the charm - shops which usually sells antiques and rusty looking furniture. The idea here is to rummage through the mess while having a blast. The only guideline here is "be retro"! Search through each rack, look for that special item. The customers are a wild mix of young people, retro clothing addicts and older people clinging to their youth. An eclectic mix.

Secondhand & antique shop in Haga, GothenburgEmmaüs - the biggest Secondhand chain in SwedenThe second kind of secondhand shop is examples like Emmaüs. This is one of the bigger secondhand chains. It is cheap and abundantly stocked. Every Thursday, the shop is restocked and it is not surprising to see it overcrowded. But it is a fun, over-indulging and (maybe) over-splurging experience. Heaps and heaps of handbags and belts are always on sale and it is a pleasure to rummage through these kind of piles. Here and there an expensive item can be found, eg. a designer label or two.  

Now in SA a new craving awaits...

Giving up "Expat-status"

What is an expatriate or expat?  According to wiki.answers.com: "a person who is living in another country, or working overseas temporarily."

Getting back to "normal" life after "being an expat" was a challenge.  I have been craving to write, to post on my blog and not to disappoint, but arriving in one's home country, picking up again where you left of years ago (or what feels like eternities ago) is time-consuming and there is always something else to do... or family or friends to see, writing just had to wait.  But now I am back on my blog, ready to write about my new life in beautiful, sunny South Africa and wanting to attract as many attention as possible so that all my fellow expats all over the world can come visit!

Moving back to my home country wasn't an easy decision. And starting again, getting back into SA life, getting used to SA-mentality (said with the utmost respect) wasn't easy as well.  South Africans have a whole different mindset and lifestyle (and I fell in love with it all over again!).  I jumped every time I heard Afrikaans around me, in a shop or on the street.  The people around me are friendly.  Everyone talks to everyone.  The beggar on the street always has a joke to tell when you walk by, the painter greets every car that drives by, the shop owner comes out to talk to you and ask you where you've been.  I got used to "your own personal space" overseas.  This is a rare thing in South Africa.  If someone sees you buying a cool drink, they will remind you of the Red bull-special, but in the same sentence say that you don't need a Red bull because you look "lekker op-en-wakker" (wide a wake and in a friendly mood).  And then everybody laughs.  I realised that I missed this about South Africa.

I now live in a town (I like to think of it as a fishing village, but it is bigger than a village though), Mossel Bay. Mossel Bay is famous for its amazing weather, ranked as the town with the second best weather in the world, and with the rarity of houses facing north. I forgot how amazing the weather is... every morning I wake up expecting cloudy, dark skies, but wake up with beautiful warm days and sunshine throughout the day! It is really amazing (not to make anyone jealous, but I mention this rather with the idea to attract visitors!). It is officially autumn now, but it feels like summer. We are walking around with t-shirts, flip-flops and shorts and just enjoying the sunshine.

In the months that follow I am going to try and promote Mossel Bay, The Garden Route and the rest of beautiful South Africa. I believe people from all over the world need to see an appreciate South Africa with its remarkable history and landscape.

Follow and support my blog, keep track of what I'm up to, what cute and interesting restaurants and shops I have discovered recently and what is happening in Mossel Bay and surrounding area!

xICKx

Goodbye Sweden, Hello South Africa... My SSS

I am packing.  Maybe for the last time.  Hopefully not, just the last time for the long-run.  We've been living abroad since November 2009 and I can now readily say I am looking forward to unpacking for a while in my own home.  Tonight is my last night in Sweden.  Today I took my last bus ride, yesterday my last tram ride.  My last Swedish Fica (a tradition I want to keep doing in SA) and... my last snowflakes (yes this afternoon, while sitting on the bus a couple of snowflakes gracefully said their goodbye's)!

The last two years has been exuberant, exhilarating, exhausting, exquisite, excellent, exceptional, extravagant and a experience!  An experience I would do over and over again and one I would never forget.  It would stay rooted in my mind and heart forever, forming part of who I am now.  I can never be complete, but it started to build my completion-blocks.   

The first S:

South Korea, you came as a shock, physically and mentally.  But I overcame my fears and in the process learned things about myself and did things I never imagined I was capable of doing. 
You taught me to be patient, to make sacrifices, to be more gentle on myself, to open my eyes to a new and interesting world that existed beyond the glorified walls of a conventional life.   I met the most amazing people;  was part of a expat group in Gyeongju who I will always be grateful to for welcoming us with open arms and showing us how the expat life really should be like.  I look back on you with a proud stillness in my heart.  I will always wonder about you, South Korea.  Wonder if the 90degree backbone of your stature grew to heavy, if your rice fields still wake in the morning fog, if your women in their traditional Hanboks still walk silently up the path to Bulguksa and Songron Grotto.  If your war with the North echos into the very hearts of your youth.  I will always taste your Kimchi on my tongue, missing and hating it at the same time.  I will long for Sangipsal and the gossip around the charcoal grills and ventilation pipes.  I shall miss you, even when I'm not thinking about you. Thank you for inviting me into your realms, sharing with me your beauty, grandeur and youth.  I will always be thankful.

Sweden.  I arrived in Sweden unsure of who You were.  But then I had to shed my skin.  That was your price.  I had to grow again.  To start anew.  You taught me to trust myself again, and others.  You taught me to open my heart to new friendships and let go of others.  You nurtured my spirit with your glory mornings and snowflakes.   You showed me to stand on my own two feet again and believe in what I believe again.  You abled me to see the world and made some of my wildest dreams come true. I will always be grateful to your kindred spirit and your, sometimes, harsh words (and winters).  You showed me nature in a way I've never seen.  You shared the language with me, even just for a little while.  Most importantly you showed me childish innocence and taught me to find mine again.  And the importance of holding on to the child within me.  I will always be grateful to the people who made us feel welcome in Sweden, right from the beginning straight to the end.  For the expats who shared my frustrations and disbelief sometimes, thank you.  For everyone at work, thank you for your kindness and friendship and amazing farewell.  I will always remember that.  The lessons I've learned in Sweden are priceless and forever rooted in my soul and for that I thank You.

Now I am going back to where it all started, South Africa (My first and last S).  There are still a lot to be learned, a lot to be discovered, a lot to experience.  I will never let go of the traveler in me, I can never set her free, for she will always be part of me and steer me on different and adventurous paths I would never have dreamed to go before I met her.  South Africa holds a dream for me that I have yet realised or accomplished.  I need to chase that dream now and find my roots again in My Beloved Country.

Journey to a Swedish island...

I'm on my way to the island Öckerö to visit a friend and enjoy a Sunday lunch. It's quite a long journey, but looking forward to what surprises the afternoon might offer.

On my ipod I have the following to keep me company:
Florence and the machine
Swedish band First Aid Kit
South African bands Freshly Ground and off course Prime Circle ;)
The Amelie sountrack (for the French side of me) ;)
Snow Patrol - Called out in the dark (a new favorite)
Russian Red which I love
Swedish Melissa Horn
And oldies...Pink Floyd and Alanis

The day is grey, but winter started to move on, making way for small buds, green grass and warmer skies. Lets hope for some sunshine on the island of Öckerö.

Old movies, Chinese tea and the snow outside

Today is Valentine's day or as they call it in Swedish, Alla hjärtans dag.  Hubby is working and I am on holiday as it is Sportlov (the official Swedish Ski holiday).  I am not going skiing.  But I am saving my energy for Italy, Rome, on Thursday.  We are thus postponing Alla hjärtans dag to Friday!

I'm spending my time re-organizing my cupboards, drawers and life.  Planning and distributing things I don't need to the waste basket.  Building on my "dream-file" - a file I have covered in collages of pictures of beautiful, exotic places I still want to visit (PS. everybody should have a dream-file.  It's a lot of fun!). 

After all my shuffling about, I start to get tired - the typical holiday relaxation mood.  And the snow falling outside contributes to my mood.  I put on an old movie that I've been meaning to watch for a while, a 1946 film - It's a Wonderful life.  I enjoy the energy with which the actors played in those days and all the drama, songs and words strung together which makes the 1940's the 1940's.  I take out my Chinese tea (bought in China and send to Sweden in a box after we left Asia) and my 5 kronor (R5) IKEA tea strainer, make a cup of delicious tea and sit back and enjoy Alla hjärtans dag!

May you have a relaxed Alla hjärtans dag!

A snowflake on my boot today

It started to snow.  My first knee-deep, thick-patched, soft-bright-white snow.  Everything felt perfect.  Not even the too-hot heaters on the tram could spoil my mood.  It wasn't too cold or too dark, just perfect.  The snow seemed to have a white-balance effect on me. 

As I listened to Comptine D'Un Autre Ete - L'Apres Midi and J'Y Suis Jamais Alle (my new favorites from the soundtrack Le Fabuleux Destin D' Amelie), it seemed as if the bells, accordion and piano fell into perfect rhythm with the falling snowflakes.  And I too, fell into a perfect, peaceful rhythm. 

On my way to the tram stop I stuck out my tongue to catch a few snowflakes.  It tasted sweet.

I listened to Guilty (a old gramophone recording, from Le Fabuleux Destin D' Amelie),  re-living the old days where snow also fell, but on an older Gothenburg.  Where people walked the streets in gowns, top-hats, long black jackets and canes; where old cars drove through the snowy streets greeted by the occasional horse-carriage.  I was in a dream, a wonderland.  And then I fell with my new white playthings back down to earth.

Now I am filled with snowflakes, from the inside out; filled up and filled with.  I love every moment of my new, white ambiance.

 

Kids falling to the ground right and left to make snow angels!

 

My Orient Express

I’m drinking tea.  But before I start, I smell it.  The aroma shocks me.  I’m surprised, taken aback.  I stand up to find the small package the tea bag was in.  It’s in the garbage bin and without thinking I search through it.

When I started to make tea I wanted peppermint tea, but my box was empty.  So I took out the free- coupon-tea I received somewhere somehow and decided to try it.  Even though it was green tea and I wasn’t in the mood for green tea, I wanted to try it.  And because it was green tea I threw in two spoons of sugar (I normally drink one spoonful).  I find the empty package and read the label.  “Green Tea Tchae Orient”.  And there’s a little frog on it saying that it is rain forest certified.  Well, well… my good deed for the day, I thought.  Rain forest certified! Can you imagine that!  I turn back to the aroma, after washing my hands, off course. 

I smell berries, no… spices.  Spiced berries?  No…peppermint! Yes, no, yes or no?  Or was it just the fact that I really wanted peppermint that I smelled it?  But I love the smell with or without peppermint.  I taste my new intrigue.  Spice… definitely a burning sense, taste and smell of spice.  A rich, burning, wonderful sensation meets my tongue.  Everything is perfect… except for one thing… my tea is cold.  With all my wondering about and exploring the package and thinking and enjoying the smell, I let the tea go cold.  O well to the microwave with you... rain forest certified! 

And while I smelled my way through the tea I thought about life (And this is maybe where the time went).  I wanted something, couldn’t get it and received something else.  But in the end it was something new, something out-of-the-ordinary and wrapped up in a nice package.  I used it, tried it with no expectations.  And I got a bountiful of words and tastes in my mouth.  I got a lot more than I ever imagined.   Life is sometimes like that.  May your 2012 be awarded for all the risks you take!

“The universe will reward you for taking risks on its behalf.” – SHAKTI GAWAIN  

found on http://jazzyjenn.tumblr.com/post/15871884844

One Swedish afternoon

I took a tram ride downtown as the fog set slowly down on the streets of Gothenburg.  It was already dark.  With the sounds of Regina Spector - her eerie, but fantastic voice and brilliant lyrics - in my ears, she blended in with the fog which in return blended in with the newly-lit-Christmas lights.  The fog covered the street with hollow drowsiness and a sleepy overflow covered me up like a blanket.  The streets walked lonely, dark past me, with their only companion:   The Fog.  The water canal lay still, quiet, lifeless and awaiting the lights to come dance on it.  A mirror image of the Gothenburg world reflected in the water as I passed.  The eerie stillness calmed me, supported my hurried soul.  It whispered in my ear: I have to go there; I have to walk those streets in the foggy nothingness and hopefully find my footsteps back.

The sound of cold

When the yellow leaves leave their trees to rest on the ground and winter's bone starts to spread its colors and breath over everything, everything starts to feel different. Cold has another sound to it. Cold sounds different from Autumn.
 The sound of cold is the early morning's perfectly dark blue sky with just the full moon balancing itself against the morning star, which shines so bright as if it's trying to outdo the moon. The sound of cars driving on the road when its starting to turn over to winter, has another sound. The tires on the road just sounds different. People talking in the streets sounds like their awaiting, expecting... They sound different than before. Voices sounds different. Their voices echo into the now light blue sky. Cold is a perfectly cloudless, move less, calm, azure, blue sky. The most perfect light blue you can ever imagine. I walked past grass and noticed how they glittered in the morning light. Ice coated green grayish grass greeted me with a welcoming surprise. I wanted to touch it. Cold is ice coated grass glittering underneath the morning moon. Magical. Wondrous. I saw a giant tarantula leave crawling my way -  a big leave exactly shaped like a tarantula - legs and all, almost moving life-like. Cold is finding the sky torn between colors. Fire-ish, reddish, horizon, succumbing and overlapping, overflowing with the blue haze.   And then a red-pink horizon greeted me in the cold. A promise of a bright, clear day. Glory morning. It's perfect. The cold is magical and perfect. Driving past parks and grass fields, it looks like a fog layer hanging over the grass with trees rooted on the fog layer. It looks like a fairy tale. Difficult to describe in words.


And now my husband tells me everything sounds different in the cold, because the air is thicker and cold air is a better conductor of sound. O well, in my writer's eyes and ears, I didn't think scientifically.

Photo by Photographer Marta Cernicka - photo.net picture on VisualizeUs

found on http://vi.sualize.us/view/b37bd4f91ab74c2b5be4a419893cfda7/

found on http://ohinevertoldyou.tumblr.com/post/13014304618

Have a great (cold) week! ;)

Bicycle parade

Walking down the Avenue in Gothenburg on Saturday a group of extreme and interesting bicycles, with their owners, cycled by.  I managed to only get one picture. It was a fleeting moment of unexpected strangeness - some with big radios attached to their seats, some with big colourful designs and some just old Penny Farthing style.

  

Irish Luck

Last weekend Australia played Ireland in a Rugby World Cup match. We watched the game in an Irish Pub, Dubliners. I drank a Bulmers, an Irish drink (while Stephan had his Guinness). And with some Irish luck Ireland took the Aussies down under! 

A pink cloud

A pink (reddish) cloud floating by on Friday twilight.   A strange, but beautiful sight.