Early early on Thursday morning I habe a taxi honking for me outside my godmother’s house out in suburbian Stockholm. The minimalistic Danish jewellery brand Jane Kønig has invited me for a 24 hrs press trip down to Copenhagen. I am dressed in a miniskirt and heels with a tiny suitcase on wheels, you know one of those that even Ryainair let’s you bring onboard as hand luggage. Feeling fab and lost and a little bit like a fraud.
As the driver opens the door to the back seat for me I get a message from Flora ”I’m in my taxi now, are you ready?”
I type up a respons on my cracked iphone 5 screen. ”Me 2! fuck I’m feeling all nervous haha”
Less than an hour later we land at Copenhagen airport accompanied by ten famous swedish bloggers and manage to go by train to the city without paying. Whilst hanging out at my favourite place, the Internet, I have once again stumbled upon some city gems, and sent it to Flora with a WE HAVE TO GO HERE. There are still a few hours before we can check in at the hotel, so we go.
Being in a foreign country early on a weekday morning feels like eating forbidden fruit. The city is still drowsy but simultaneously busy and for a moment it feels like you have all the time in the world to explore.
In one of the corners Flora and I sit down ordering scrambled eggs and cappuccinos, talking about all the grand things we are working on, die over some fucking fantastic news and get serious when subjects like death or friendship breakups come up. It’s so strange that this is only the fourth time we actually meet(!) and it feels like I’ve known her a lifetime. I guess it’s just like that with people who are unafraid of letting other people in and up close. She was the one who recruited me for Metro, right after this London adventure in April if you remember.
Busy as we are, we spend a couple of hours in front of the laptops working before Copenhagen just screams for us to GET OUT ENJOY ME EXPLORE ME. We obey and manage to stumble upon H.C. Anderson’s grave first thing.
I like how Flora shifts how she dresses with the shift of a season. It’s as if nature sweeps through her wardrobe and transform its pallette just as it does with the trees. As you can tell it’s officially autumn.
I have somewhat expected nothing of Copenhagen other than it’ll be another version of Stockholm; stunning but sleepy and very wealthy. Partially I’m sure that’s true, but it runs out thatthere is also something else about Copenhagen. An aura, if one believes in those, that was far more relaxed and inviting, and people are gorgeous riding their bikes everywhere.
At some futuristic ice cream shop called ISTID we stop, where they whip up these desserts by adding liquid nitrogen to cream! From a tall Dane who says he eats at least six ice creams a day we order one salty pecan flavour and one with crushed chocolate and cranberry sauce.
He stutters when talking to us blonde babes and later Flora asks if I think it was because he got shy. Absolutely, I say and then we agree on how wicked it is still being able to make boys nervous, despite having been in a relationship for over 3 years *still got it*.
Around here we realise that we have less than an hour to get back to the hotel room, get ready and make it to the event that people actually flew us down to attend.
By a miracle we stand in the lobby on time. Amongst the highest of heels, expensive design clutches and the most perfect of curls I feel like wow this is so exotic AND I LOVE IT. I did not know I had a glamorous diva in me until now, but oh I will embrace it. I might be a blogger fraud but if that’s the case lucky me, because this ride I will enjoy.
They’ve rented a bus and we get picked up, first driven to Jane Kønig’s boutique and later to some club venue.
Obviously there are hashtagged cupcakes and Moet.
I also find a glossy white present with my name on it which makes my little blogger heart melt. I’ll show you later what was in it. Apparently they don’t have beer at events like these so we order vodka and soda and try to fit in!
But mostly I just sit spellbound by my conversation with Flora wildly discussing politics and horrifying a teen fashion intern with having body hair and using mooncups. At nine we say bye to the blogger party.
And go out on a bar hunt! As some of you saw on my snapchat we are a little tipsy and very giggly (@linn.wiberg if you haven’t added me yet) walking through the cobbled streets.
Flora coaches me in my aspirations as a writer and tells me to get my shit together. It’s tricky writing in a language that isn’t yours but being too novice in any other, plus having started walking down a career path that has nothing to do with that dream. I’m once again just finding excuses but hear this: I think I have actually figured out what the hell I should write about!
She brings me to this cool spot, drowning in red lights and saucy r’n’b called Bakken, in Kødbyen. I buy us beers and nachos to celebrate a little secret. I tell her my best nightmare stories from my exchange year in Spain as a teen because there is nothing scarier. One day when the mood is right, I will also tell you, if you’d like.
Before midnight we are back in our aquarium looking room, ordering wifi through room service and comparing pyjamas.
– Goodnight Flora.
– Sleep well Linn.
The morning after we feel like crap heading to the airport, but thank you Jane Kønig for making me into a jetsetter for a day.
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