An enchanted party, an enchanted evening! There is nothing I like more than a good theme party. Continue reading
“Are you alive!?” Continue reading
For the tens of thousands of Swedes living in London, Midsummer is a time of year to gather and be festive in an utmost Swedish manner. Continue reading
The most idyllic of feasts, Midsummer, was upon us once again last Friday. My wonderful cousin Louise and her man decided to organise a supremely awesome lunch in their garden, in order to honour the sacred tradition of drinking copious amounts of Snaps and
slurring singing Snaps-Songs. Traditionally, a May-Pole (pretty much a giant phallic shaped pole) is… erected, and danced around. We didn’t have any such pole, but figured those who really wanted to could perhaps head to one of London’s more sophisticated strip clubs Continue reading
When our fine friends from Stockholm decide to grace us with their magnificent presence, there is little choice but to get “rowdy”. Which is why the rowdiest of all, Rowdy Riley, made sure to plan an awesome weekend for us with an itinerary completely in line with my own tastes.
Us Londoner’s felt a specifically pressing responsibility this weekend in terms of
brainwashing showing them a good time, since it had been said that Magnus doesn’t like London. (???!!!) Oh, the treason! Hence, knowing we had to make the man feel more at home – we reasoned that “indulgent debauchery” was the way to go forward. This went hand in hand with the fact that it was Madeleine’s birthday, which essentially meant all bets were off.
The weekend kicked off with dinner at Loulou’s Continue reading
Who said fairytale creatures don’t exist in real life? This last Friday, they existed very much at Boneca’s party at Grosvenor House. We started our evening at Rowdy Riley’s place in Notting Hill – gathering unicorns, cows and cowboys to name a few of the mythical beings we encountered that evening. The theme of the party was Burning Man, so you can imagine… very inspirational, for a dress up lover like myself. I opted for the subtle look of, well, fallen angel I suppose. Lee Burridge played at the party, and we stayed until very very late of course, finishing the evening, as one does, with a few after parties. When in London!
After these tiring shenanigans, we recuperated the day after with lunch at Cecconi’s and a chilled afternoon in the courtyard of new, super cool hotel Chiltern Firehouse. Highly recommended. Xx A Continue reading
I have a friend who has a friend. This guy is a raging Don Juan, Womanizer and Sex Tornado. One Friday night when he was wrecking his usual havoc at Cuckoo, a doe-eyed, innocent young Swedish girl (the type that became legal, like, yesterday) approaches his table and stares wide eyed at the multiple vodka & champagne bottles. “Is it your birthday?” she incredulously asked Him. When he proudly informed her that it was indeed NOT his birthday – she naturally made the conclusion that he must be a billionaire of some kind or just the unknown prince of a small country. So dazzled, in fact, was this young lady that it didn’t take long for him to manoeuvre her back to his lair.
Suffice to say, he banged the living daylights out of her. So much so in fact, that he broke her vagina. Now you’re probably thinking that’s a metaphor of some kind, but no – he literally broke it.
“But, like, how?” I asked him when he recounted the story. “It just broke.” “But how did it break?” “It like, fell of, or fell apart. Parts of it fell off. It fell out. A part fell off.” Now I’m no gynaecologist, but if your va-jay-jay is falling out like crumbling house veneer thats probably not a good sign.
“Holy shit so what happened to her?! Did she go to the hospital?” “Oh, umm, no – I dunno, she took the bus back to Sweden in the morning.” “Haha, you mean flight.” “What?” “Flight – you accidentally said BUS.” “No she literally took a 2 day bus ride back. I offered to buy her a flight ticket but…nope.” And so little Miss Sweden rounded up her weekend in style, 2 days on a bus with a broken vagina.
(im)moral of the story: Not only 50 Cent parties like its his birthday.
I don’t know how many times I’ve said I’m not going back to Tramp, yet I found myself there again this Saturday. When I was at university at Regent’s College, my first years in London, I used to go there all the time and every Saturday was like a school disco. We used to say that we could draw up a map of this club and pinpoint the geographical facts of this place- there in the corner was the German table, in the middle of the wall it was the Swedes, the Saudis in the far corner etc etc. I haven’t been here for almost 1.5 years, yet everything is still the same!-it’s like a time warp in here. Just like in the olden days, some dudes bodyguard came up and requested my presence at his employers table. I was dragged by the arm to meet this bawse, who was so not my type of bawse. Horrendous! At one point I overheard a dude calling a group of girls “cattle” in the foyer. One of my many magnificently pretentious exes used to say about this place “It’s where the Middle East meets the Middle Class”. But I have to admit, it was a fun evening, although waking up the next day with the subsequent smell of Tramp on my clothes and in my hair felt less fun. I cured my Monday blues today with lunch at Bluebird with Minnie and Anna, who is moving to New York today! So take note, NYC friends- take care of her for me 🙂
We all know I have a very simple taste- I only like the best of everything. Be it food, travel, men…raves. Oh yes, I have a serious addiction to deep house.
Since I moved to London, like a century ago, I’ve been a devoted fan of the Another Party parties. They’re organised by dear friends of mine, in cool venues all over London. Originally (before I’d developed my love for deep house) I started going to the parties because of all the hot guys. Yeah, you heard me- me and Hanna and all our other Swedish lady friends would go to scout new talent: like truffle pigs sniffing out the most gorgeous truffles, we’d roam the warehouses with feet moving in time with the music in search for these hot dudes. And there are plenty.
The last time I went, it was for the Halloween edition. I love the good ol’ body paint, and that time, I went as a golden Geisha (in all honesty, I ended up looking more like one of those gilded, Chinese cats with the waving arm…) I had a total blast! So, I’m super excited to be going to their next party, next weekend, on January the 25th. Super DJ’s Steve Lawler, Mathew Johnson, James Manero and Jimmy Lainas will all be spinning at this 4th birthday party of this, now famed, institution. It’ll be held at The Coronet, which is a sick venue.
So if you wanna shake your ass with me and my army of hotties, get your tickets now at
If you wanna book a table, send an email to firstname.lastname@example.org and name drop me, as your reference 😉
Aight, one last thing- check out the video below to see what the Halloween party was all about. Keep an eye out for me at 0.45 haha
Happy New Years everyone!!! I’m not usually a big fan of the whole new years celebration itself, but this year, my night was exceptional! I feel like I went to 10 different parties; and every one of them was fantastic! David Guetta was dj:ing at Nikki Beach, and then the evening ended in a gorgeous villa on the other side of the island where everyone partied until the sunrise, bringing in the first morning of the year with lots of love and happiness. I only wish I would’ve gotten a New Years kiss 🙂
I should’ve taken even more photos, but here are some to give you an idea of what our night looked like. My favourite pictures are the ones of me and Magnus- we are clearly not using the same spf. He now goes by the name Tan Man.