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LONDON – Prosecco mermaids + stolen fur coats

Bistrotheque,-Bethnal-Green-London Our steps are quick as we rush down Mare Street, across the canal and down the dirty, damp alleyway. It’s empty and eerie like the British war films and the sound of our shoes scratching gravel against the cobblestone echoes into nothing. We stop in front of a secluded, metal door and open it. Daniel-Stenberg,-London-2015 Inside we hurry up the cement staircase to meet a roaring brunch crowd, high on caffein with cutlery slammering as they shout on top of each others sentences. At a corner table five of our friends are already seated. Bistrotheque-London The kitchen is busy frying pancetta and behind the bar beans are being ground and steamed into liquid gold. Over gigantic white menus we get to caught up in conversation to remember to find something to eat. VDK,-Bistrotheque-Jan-2015 It’s getting ridiculous but during my school weeks I literally only eat mackerel on crackers or canned tomato soup because it’s the only thing I can afford. Either due to having returned from a trip like this or having one approaching. My mates all make fun of me. Eggs-Benedict-Bistrotheque,-London-2015 But once I’m in London I’m close to royal, or at least I’m able to order a freshly cooked meal with a juice and not one but two coffees. It feels like that sure must count for something regal, or perhaps me just being spoiled or insanely irresponsible. This city still manages to put me on a throne as quickly as pushing me far down the sewers, but I guess that’s why I feel at home here too. Saboune,-Bistrotheque-London We’re getting to that point in life where some close friends manage to skyrocket in their careers and buy flats with beautiful views and we all discuss how jealous we are. Jealous and absolutely not even close to giving up our nights out and free weekends to do the same. Dilemmas. Boys Hours later the plates are empty and our bodies heavy. The air is damp and raw out on the street. I get asked about where to have my internship and what role I want. I answer by quickly crossing the street just as a car approaches and my friends get cut off and are left behind on the pavement. Don’t make me think of anything of severity or future, these are trips for oblivion and escapism. Sebastian-Saboune,-London-2015 Broadway Market is crowded with wealthy hipsters in sunglasses smoking Marlboro Gold and with coffee table books in their bags. We buy the homemade pesto from the lady that’s there every Saturday and bump into people who used to steal our drinks at after parties in 2011. A wave of fatigue flushes over me and I feel too weak to continue even breathing. Yes drama queen. We have plans for the night so my time in London is too short to be ill. Daniel pulls me up on one of the buses and I crash in his bed, falling asleep far before the lights are off, hoping that the fever will disappear in my slumber. Bistrotheque-Bar,-London It almost does, but either way there is no time to think about that. Only hours after brunch we are back at Bistrotheque. This time to have drinks with our beloved Jess and her Nick. Our waitress from earlier stops on her way to the bar and puzzled she asks ‘Weren’t you guys here this morning?’. I guess that’s proof of one frequenting a venue too often. Bistrotheque-Bar But the lights they glimmer all golden and the streets lay dark below. Only a few hundred meters away the double deckers are carrying youngsters in ugly attire down the filthy streets to pubs. There they’ll end up puking outside or cry when they happen to dance with the wrong person. In here though, all is warm and somewhat sophisticated and despite me being all for the gritty, dirty and the flawed, this is nice as a change. Ada-and-Daria-51 I’m careful with the cocktails as the fever terrifies me. I come to think of that one time a few years ago when we had tickets to go see Gesaffelstein in Brixton and I was delirious with fever. We had paid tons for the tickets and waited months so I couldn’t just cancel it. Instead Daniel sat with me under the duvet, feeding we straight whiskey whilst picking out my outfit. That night we dance for three eternities and I was sure that the following morning I’d wake up with pneumonia or not even wake up at all. Instead I found myself feeling light and weirdly crisp, with no trace of germs apart from the south london mud on my jeans. Prosecco I decide to do the same this time too, going all in with the stakes higher than ever. In the liquor section at a Tesco Express with Daniel I stand pointing at the prosecco and firmly state that ‘We need five of these, because if I’m going to a party with a fever and I for once have some cash, I want to shower all my friends in luxury.’ Ada-and-Darias-bday So we get five bottles for £20 and head down to Hackney Wick. In a secluded art gallery up in one of the warehouses Ada and Daria have their birthday party. Unimates A whole bunch of my mates from London College of Communication are there and it’s lovely to see them. They tell me gossip about teachers and stories of who’s dropped out and who’s broken up and who’s still letting one of our dirty perverted tutors to buy them drinks. I miss them and times like this I almost miss uni too. Dee-Kawana,-2015 Deedee is there and she looks like a freaking mermaid in her new blond braids. Ornella,-Hackney-WickOrnella,-London-2015 Then I see my great love Ornella telling the dj to get the fuck out if he continues playing bad dubstep remixes. I smile and run up to hug her until she almost breaks. She’s my idol. Daria-and-Adas-bday-party The venue fills up and the lights fade out. With Ornella as the new dj people go slightly mental and in the light of the projector they all dance dance dance. Danielle,-Jan-2015 The night vanishes and nobody wants to go home. It might be the worst speakers used at a party in the history of partying, but it doesn’t matter in the slightest. The Drake tracks are close to unrecognisable but the shitty screaming of lyrics still somehow manages to make up for it and I can’t remember the last time I saw my friends this excited. Balloons It does somehow come to an end eventually. To the sound of Abba the lights are turned on and bottles emptied. My fur coat gets stolen but I find it by ripping the rubbish dj’s bag open and my friends are then on him like hounds. I am more super impressed by myself actually finding it than mad at him for stealing it, plus that I love hearing british people swearing. The rubbish dj is ashamed though and pretends he didn’t put it there, but quickly hide away around the street corner. We tell the Uber driver all about it on the way home and he is amused and slightly horrified, perhaps more about us than the story. At home I don’t want to sleep yet but try and grasp onto this exuberance for just a bit more. Daniel understands, so we stay up for hours longer, just because we can.   Linn

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  • […] At Daria and Ada’s birthday party in a art gallery in Hackney Wick. That night the dj tried to steal my fur coat, people dropped the speakers down the stairs, vegetarians ate bacon crisps and a girl said that if it’s lucky that your bf has a twin brother I can sleep with because this is the most handsome man I’ve seen(?). […]

    DISPOSABLE CAMERA LONDON 2014/2015 - Linn Wiberg 2015-04-25 14:05:41 http://radarmagazine.se/linnwiberg/disposable/
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  • Kommer ihåg när du berättade att du skulle börja skriva på engelska och jag tänkte att jag skulle sakna din genialiska svenska. Men du är fan ett geni på engelska med. Gah, så bra!

    Nastasja 2015-02-23 17:23:31 http://nastasja.blogg.se
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  • du skriver SÅ BRAAAA!!!

    ellen 2015-02-23 10:27:38
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  • You’re such a good writer, jesus.

    Daria 2015-02-22 20:25:02 http://dot-daria.blogspot.it/
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  • I’ve read all of your posts! Love the way you write, your pictures and everything! You’re my idol haha! x

    martyna aleksandra 2015-02-22 17:57:37 http://lookingformywayhome.blogspot.com/
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  • Your posts are fantastic! Always a beautifully told tale! x

    Meg 2015-02-22 15:52:28 http://www.megva.blogspot.co.uk
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