A Sucker For Light In Paris, The City Of Lights

April 16, 2019

Could I ever be friends with someone who doesn’t like Paris? How could you not like Paris?! Are you OK?, I’d be asking myself on the inside and you could definitely see a big exclamation mark on the outside. Paris has that something that one has to discover by oneself some time if not the first time. We know anything is possible. There will be a time, though, when one will find. Not out the beauty of the city (that was conspicuous), but the light. Finally! His, her, theirs.

The light!

Paris is romance in its most pure form, I now come to understand. It’s romance in so many ways, that for someone running as far away as possible from their romantic ways, Paris can become too much for someone to be able to come. Paris can become a mirror for some.

This word play.

The mirror effect a city, a film, a book, an evening or a morning, a song, a soul can have on someone is a sign of light and signs are so romantic! If you see them. By now, you’re either smiling and already see yourself in Paris or you’ve raised your eyebrows so high that you started to tickle the clouds with them. So maybe you just like the rain, but guess what. Rain can be so romantic… And this is how we all hide some romance within ourselves. It is said that we’re all looking for love. Wishing for love, in fact. And I don’t only mean the classic half, although after self love and the love for love, the classic love is shared ideal.

Oh, come on.

Sharing food for French – according to Geraldine below – is about social life, not necessarily about feeding yourself. Food is sacred and the point of a meal is to have a good time with your friends and family. To be together – a thing you’re either used to from childhood or dream about and get the chance to adore in Paris. Wherever, bien sûr, but the smell of good bread and warm croissants all over the city as in Paris I have never elsewhere experienced but home, home when I was a child. Not to mention the made-on-the-spot crêpes with jambom et fromage (and a variety of other salted things) or Nutella (and a variety of other sweet things) on almost every street.

Ladies and gentlemen,
meet Geraldine!

About food at 5:27.

The smell of good food, not too heavy or greasy, but tasty, not too dry, yet not too juicy, when you enter a home that feels like home… Oh. It’s inevitable to not sense it when walking in Paris and not think of home even just for one second.

Walking in Paris, in April, admiring the sky above the Jardin des Tuileries while eating a croissant or a pancake on the way home with a bottle of red wine (in your bag) to drink in the evening with a loved one feels like home.

Viennoiserie ❤️

And maybe, right now, you are not romantic. It’s not the easiest thing in the world to be romantic, it takes a doze of naivety that makes you get on the biggest roller coaster there is. And lose control for a bit (though, in my opinion, it is precisely then that you find it), only to feel the warm adrenaline running through your veins and strengthening your trust.

Romance seems to be something we are all born with and we can all, further on, place in everything we do throughout life. In everything we wear, because romance is style. Regardless of genre, style happens the moment you see yourself in the mirror, in a film, in a book, in an evening or morning, in a song, in a man.

Paris is as romantic as Nietzsche’s quote is: Life without music would be a mistake.

Speaking of music, might my affinity for French come from school where our French teacher used to teach us French
after Joe Dassin’s Et Si Tu N’existais Pas…?
I also used to hear
at home…?

Please don’t just listen to it in the background while at home on a sunny Saturday breakfast, but in the car (or in your headphones on the subway), with the volume up when it’s raining outside and it’s April.

Pont Neuf + rain = 😉

Oh, how romantic the summer evenings Alex used to teach me French through Mylène Farmer’s lyrics were. Until the coffee shops closed down at night, haha!

The French language only completes the essence of Paris. The tone is firm, yet warm, doesn’t (fundamentally) depend on the hour, place or occasion. It’s not as sexy (sexy in the best way) as Portuguese or Spanish is, it’s warm. Even the news and the news anchors on France 24 are warm, regardless of the subject.


Since we’re at music, a French artist I have been following at home and listening to with friends at our parties for some time now is Christine and the Queens.

About friends, I have friends who say about them that they are anything but romantic. I don’t believe them, but I don’t say anything. They think they’re cool or something (they are cool as in cool, they are not though cool as in cold) if they say it. And there comes a day and they tell me about a city, a film, a book, an evening or a morning, a song, a man. And my smile can’t hide. It doesn’t want to! My arms, without any prior approval, head towards them for big embrace. Of joy! And not necessarily for him or her, or me, but for the champagne flutes clinking somewhere between the clouds. Held by the sun rays or something. Ok, ok. Jesus! Jk.

Some clinking happened between our ears, also, whilst in the Notre-Dame, for a concert like I had never heard or been to before on a Sunday evening.

Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Paris ☀️

Resembling the French duo’s, Justice from last summer or U2 with my brother from last fall.


Humour is romantic. So romantic! Romantic af romantic!

Anyone can make you smile, many people can make you cry, but it takes someone really special to make you smile with tears in your eyes.

The toilet entrance at Notre-Dame is 2 Euros, but – hey – you’re being pthotographed while you do the pee-pee. Before or after, let’s suppose. There’s a coffeeshop in Montmartre called Coffee, Pee-pee and Me where you make your own coffee and you pay 2 Euros to go to do the pee-pee. One can tell the level a country’s at by its toilets also and yes, subway sometimes smells of pee, but it’s not about how perfect Paris is here, because it’s not. A romantic wouldn’t be looking for perfection anyway, perfection happens in moments of grace. And maybe pee-pee and grace are two words not expected to be found in the same phrase, but are as natural.

Care este fața voastră când sunteți la toaletă, haha?

The smell of blooming trees in Paris in April…



Paris is one of the most expensive cities in the world – according to Wikipedia – but it is expensive without being pretentious. Paris cares about its allure, about everything Paris is cognisant of representing. It’s the setting for millions of films and I don’t mean cinema. It’s rich without shouting it out loud. It’s clean when observing both the sneakers or shoes people wear in the streets or on the subway and the lives in them. When observing the frankness. Frankness is one of the city’s je ne sais quois.

You see what you want to see, hear what you want to hear. It depends on how romantic you let yourself be. Free.

You can just feel it when something’s not honest here. You can just feel it wherever in the world obviously, but in Paris, if you’re not honest with yourself first, you can just feel it; maybe the reason behind the fashion style in Paris. The fashion style wherever. It’s not about a certain rule or unanimity, it’s about authenticity. It could be in your pair of Converse while stroking the foot you’ve just cuffed your pants up to your knee on, having your coffee and croissant and thinking of your day, everything at once in the morning sun. It could be in a pink skirt with pink roses, heels, with your favourite bag rushing to work. It could be a white collared black leather jacket and black jeans over the espresso at a small-small table outside, at the corner restaurant. It could be anything as long as the thing is you.

Women (and men) with a flow in the morning, with an underestimated joie de vivre, a certain joie de vivre about their own world, the world they like first, their OZ. In Paris.


The style French have doesn’t (fundamentally) depend on the hour, place or occasion in their day-to-day-to-night life. They remain loyal to their style and adapt it on the go. Easy, free, elegant. An elegance coming from the inside.

Because it’s not ever about the clothes only and clothes are so much more than just clothes.

And heels are more than just heels.

To be able to observe the style in real life in Paris, not only on tv, on Netflix, in the Dix Pour Cent (Call My Agent) French show is as lovely as spreading the butter (and a bit of plums gem) on the bread while having black tea or coffee in the morning. I let its episodes play (replay) in the background for its glittery energy while I work or almost anything I do, in fact.


In Paris, the ideal company is one that walks with you at least 16 km a day from morning, with beautiful stops for coffee and croissants at Cafe Francoeur (in Montmartre) towards Le Bon Marché through Jardin des Tuilleres, after admiring Louvre from afar, another stop at Le Saint-Germain before Bon Marché. One you could share white wine and tea at the corner resto with, a pain au chocolat in between, stands still for two hours in Jardin du Luxembourg with you until the park closes at 8 (at dawn, the park closes, yes) and walks back to Place St. Michel, where skaters dance and sing in the sunset’s light, under the vanilla sky. One you could sit on Pont Neuf and talk about the universe with at the end of the day.

After having just arrived in Paris the night before and walked with a crêpe to Sacré-Cœur.

The next morning, we head to one store – after croissants from the 1 minute away boulangerie and coffee in bed – and get to another, yet both (Elena and myself) find the pair of black Nikes we’d both been looking for for years. They were even better than we’d imagined them to be. Starving, we eat a mini burger at a restaurant in our neighbourhood, at small tables outside, in the Spring sun, on Rue Joseph de Maistre. The restaurant seemed more of locals than of tourists. At hotel, we eat a Paris-Breast with espresso, because – hey – it’s the traditional desert. We change and run on the subway to get to Hôtel du Duc, the location of the Vogue Paris conference, just near to Opera Garnier, through Boulevard des Italiens. I tell Elena about a nice guy I once met and is now a chef at Ibrik and we go there. He’s not there anymore, but we have red wine and some delicious appetisers.

Only to start the third morning with La Vie en Rose (after having croissants and coffee on the go) sung in the streets surrounding Sacré-Cœur and just chill on the hill (the highest in Paris), grab (again) something juicy (a crêpe for myself again, the best one just down the hill). We then take the Big Bus to hop on and off through all of Paris, see REX (the biggest cinema in Europe) on Boulevard Poissonnière. We toast some rosé on a bench, just near Tour Eiffel on a Sunday splendid afternoon before heading to Notre-Dame and hop back on the Big Bus. To toast the same rosé (which is mos def not randomly called Joie de Vivre) at sunset on Champs-Elysées. We eat some Chinese (Elena’s favourite dish) and go back to Tour Eiffel to jump under at 10.30 at night until the lights go off. The lights on “The Iron Lady” which, actually, feels like silk to me.

A company you have the freedom to separate from for an unplanned, yet so pleasant meeting on a Monday Spring morning at Café Beaubourg with a view to Pompidou. A company you are glad to reunite with only to delight together in Centre Georges Pompidou and look forward to come back with to L’atelier Brâncuși just near Pompidou. A chocolate crêpe through Marais and the wonderful clouds back to Sacre-Cœur make the hotel check-out easier.

Yves Klein
Grande Anthropophagie Bleue, Homage to Tennessee Williams, 1960

Oh, ouais, and stay with that ideal company in Montmartre.


Whether it was Montmartre, or Marais, or Saint-Germain, just near the Grand Palais or Champs-Elysées, the buildings people leave and work in in Paris… I just know I love to look at them and not loose myself each time I come to Paris. The eyes are relaxed, inspiration flows, calm settles in.

Home Sweet Home

Just in time for me to play with Tour Eiffel on every corner or street when I see it and I smile. It feels like playing hide and seek with Inga and Natasha. It feels like Christmas every day and the 324 m tree lights up each night and the home is Paris.


I only took favourite things to wear with me to Paris. My closet, lately, started to be filled with favourite things only. Pfew! In Paris (just as at home), I mixed the clothes so much that two other “outfits” made at home just an hour before flying off to Paris never even left the hotel’s closet, but I sure did carry them in my 11 kg carry-on on the subway. We wanted to have the whole Parisian experience with RER B, the most efficient means of transport from and to the Charles de Gaulle airport. Moreover, the funny jokes with the flight attendees at Air France only sweetened the (already sweet) tiredness of the road back.

The meaning of it all is for each and every one of us to find it out on ourselves. About romance, about life. Regardless of genre, the meaning happens the moment you look at yourself in the mirror, in a city, in a film, in a book, in an evening or a morning, in a song, in a man and you see yourself. The most beautiful meaning happens in the most beautiful light.



Romance is truth and truth is always sexy, because truth is love. And forever.

Can you imagine Alicia Keys singing Empire State of Mind for Paris? (!?!?!)

Well, she did it 🙂
at minute 19:16.

Apple or Nike or Ray-Ban and so many other seem so romantic to me and they’re not French. I see romance in my ever growing fun, cool and most truest relationship with my brother, in Pharrell Williams’ Gust Of Wind. In my Written Press’ (back in TV School) professor’s attitude, Ferenc Vasas or Miss Dacian’s back in primary school. Honey! The way the bees fly from flower to flower and make the honey which ends up in jars and in ourselves afterwards. Solange’s Stay Flo. Romance is in the smiles and beautiful contradictory talks in the family, in my father’s fate and the talks with dad in his car. In Coldplay’s Hymn For The Weekend, in a coffee with something good at any time of day with mom, going to good movies since childhood with mom, in the exquisite dress my mom used to wear 20 years ago I now wear, in Pierpaolo Piccioli’s collections, in laying on the beach with any of my two close Elenas in May or August, in Adrian Oianu’s Not Cool 2010 fashion show, in the rain that seems to be starting, in the eyebrows that won’t let the rain come into our eyes, in Quentin Tarantino’s and Leonid Gaidai’s films, in Yuri Nikulin’s talent, in Mircea Eliade’s Maitreyi, in the dance we lose ourselves and, in fact, find ourselves. The list continues for each of us, because romance doesn’t care about space, nationality, age, religion, gender, school etc.

Romance has that je ne sais quoi that the French are aware of also and enjoy it to the fullest in Paris ❣️

Just like these two here.

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Gran Canaria or Amor A Primera Vista

March 04, 2019

Love At First Sight is also a song by Kylie Minogue.

My mom’s and your mom’s birthday move something in us every year. On mom’s birthday, I somehow feel like on my birthday and the truth is I wouldn’t be talking about my birthday if not for my mom’s and you wouldn’t be reading this if not for yours. Moms all over the world are pretty cool and we are all now – virtually – chin-chining. Reaching the age of chin-chining with moms is pretty cool. Along with age, however, comes some sort of responsibility to do something special on mom’s day. Or something. Delicious pizza at home with the family, good music and red wine is just as good of an idea as a surprise trip to Gran Canaria, one of the seven Canarian Islands in the Atlantic Ocean.

❗️The outfits in this article mark the days and trips.

❤️ Outfits anytime anywhere mark everything if we just pay attention.

‼️ This flows through emotional and informational right next to a kite flying and a surfboard riding.

Same, same.
Mom in the dress I made for her.

Writing this on the flight back from Gran Canaria, I can not but not remember of someone funny telling me that I like to sometimes live in my own world. The truth is I do, but don’t we all? We might not name it the same way – my world, your world, OZ – but we all live in the world we are constantly imagining for ourselves. Look at everything around you, it’d all been imagined by someone someday and – bam! – you have your mobile or laptop to read 👈🏻 this 👉🏻 on and I have the pleasure to write 👆🏻 this 👇🏻. This is where we connect and 🥁 something 🥁 moves again. Yourself with your music in your ears, myself with mine. Your thoughts in your head before you fall asleep, mine in mine before I fall asleep. Your dreams when you look at the ocean, mine when I look at the ocean. At the moon. Sun. Stars. And then we are together and we dance. And when we are together, aren’t our gaze and the words we speak a sum of everything we’ve been feeling, hearing, thinking, dreaming about and seeing all along?

We fly, we surf. It is when we’re flying on the same kite or riding on the same surfboard with someone that sparkles sparkle and the moon, the sun, the stars seem to be looking back at us. Uhm-m-mm!

But then again, it might be a child that seems to know nothing about anything and is, yet, flying on the kite, riding the wave with you like there’s no tomorrow and, yet again, another world reveals in front of you. In front of the child. I can already feel the breeze and I’d better watch it, the wind is funny af and I can hear my mom’s voice: Cristina, get back here! Mom is, actually, next to me on the plane and is, in fact, asking me what I’m writing about. I feel like on the wave. 

Better yet, I feel like on the same kite with mom. We’re flying.

What is it about surf that I like so much?

About flying…

What is it about trips that we love so much? I know I love travelling just as much as I love a delicious pizza at home with the family, good music and red wine. Just as much as I love falling in love.


Mom + Dad = Walking in The Little Venice of Gran Canaria
Dad + Mom

Mom’s contentment is one of the best feelings in the world. Just next to her getting excited – the reason behind our SURPRIIIISE! (half screaming, half innocently looking onto our plates) during the breakfast on her birthday, at my brother’s house in the UK, on the 25th of February. What?!, mom’s eyes popping out and everything. My dad, brother and myself looked at each other, laughed and eye high-fived: In an hour we’re leaving for Gran Canaria, the luggage has been taken care of. Mom: What and what?!

Getting into the informational:

When we usually ask mom Mom, what do you want for your birthday?, the answer is always For us all to be together. We were. For breakfast. Her responsibility (or something), though, of being an adult keeps all of our family – and herself – each year in suspense: What should I do for my birthday…? Luckily, by dinner, we got to Puerto Rico in Gran Canaria.

The suspense of the newness is always bliss.

Informational both on Yes, a 10kg carry-on for almost 2 weeks for both UK and Canarian Islands is possible! and on the number and names of the islands.

Man, I know how to pack! In my 10kg carry-on to the UK, I not only packed my clothes for the family gathering in the UK, but also my and my parents’ (!) beach clothes. Yes, beach! Oh, beach! The nearest warmest destination to the UK are the Canarian Islands. So when Spain was the answer, we knew. But then, there are seven islands in the Canarians: Tenerife, Fuerteventura, Gran Canaria, Lanzarote, La Palma, La Gomera and El Hierro. Guess who did her research!  

Squad 1
Squad 2
Def informational:

Aside from the turquoise waters of Playa de Amadores, what ultimately made Gran Canaria top of the list was The Little Venice – a nickname for Puerto de Mogán, a gem – a nickname for a small fishing port with mini canals trailing throughout the whole port area. Mom said once she wants to go to Venice. The connections my brain made when finding out about this particular detail were too cute not to choose Gran Canaria!

The streets in the city of Puerto de Mogan.

Little Venice and little did I know, though.

Def emotional.
Puerto de Mogán
Puerto de Mogán

Gran Canaria was about to reveal so many more gems to us, that it became, along with us all being together there, one of the most enchanting vacations so far. It was of four nights and three full days – enough for us to think about coming back for more.

The sunrise and the highway back to Las Palmas Airport back to UK.
A mixture of informational and emotional:

Coming home to the home away from home each time, makes any of the vacations feel like home wherever on this planet. Possibly the reason behind my belief that we are all citizens of this wonderful world and not just of one particular city, country, continent. If only we’d all fit into Marina Bayview Gran Canaria (Adults Only) at once and enjoy the freshness, intimacy, lighting, delicious food, grandiose, yet clean views, the smiles and cute accents of the staff, a some sort of ease that can not be described with words. Jk, intimacy is intimacy and it is fabulous. All of us there would be too trippy.

“There’s something about this place. It feels rich in the way that rich is ideally supposed to feel. Naturally. Freely. Easily. Humanly. Lovingly.”

Puerto Rico by night in Gran Canaria is just as fabulous as Puerto Rico sounds like.

The spectacular rock formations all over the island are obviously mesmerising, yet what is surprisingly mesmerising is the beautiful ways locals enhanced the natural beauty of everything Gran Canaria stands for. The Flintstones come to mind everywhere. However, the cleanness, modern constructions, cleverness, the multitude of gorgeous tunnels and roads bring the island into nowadays with no feeling of any anxiety or agitation whatsoever. An encounter with a local speaking Spanish is always lovely, laid back and warm.

Speaking of warm, February in Gran Canaria is so warm that we pretty much burnt ourselves on the first day of laying on the sand. Not chaise longs, but sand. Towels and sand, fresh fruit and the perfect weather that feels perfect on skin. Until burnt. Lol.

But yum!


When at the airport renting the car we traveled by the entire vacation, red was what the Sixt agent mentioned when us deciding on the rental. Convertible was next. And then, well, Fiat 500. All together on the surprise getaway for mom sounded pretty fun. And it was. Fun! And though the car is Italian, the trips all over the place felt very Spanish.

Informational that turned into emotional:

The second day trip alone – to Caldera de Bandama (protected landscape of the volcanic crater), to Pico de las Nieves (the second highest peak of the island, 1949m) and its surrounding magnificent pines forests, to Roque Nublo (volcanic rock, 1813m altitude), the Vineyards of Tafira Alta that take to Pico de Bandama with the panoramic view of Las Palmas (the capital of Gran Canaria), the sunset in San Agustin – with spectacular views every inch of the road took a bit of our breaths away and made it into a day I will never forget.

Roof or no roof above our heads.

Emotional that turned into informational:

Take my breath away is a metaphor we all love to use when thinking of particular moments, yet it is also an expression used to describe a situation when breathing almost becomes literally forgotten. Beware of the gorgeous (!) signalled (!) roads all over the island for when they are not (!) signalled (!)! It is better not to take them. Simply follow the white stripes on both sides of the road. Non signalled roads still remain superb while rushing one’s adrenaline very high up when one’s car almost got hung by them. The laughter afterwards brought tears of happiness, nevertheless.

The hills almost everywhere make a car ride so fun that horsepower becomes the trip’s best friend. And no roof’s best friend. Good music’s best friend. And good company is all about best, anyway.

The third day started with a no planned morning at the hotel. Chilling, sometimes, after a delicious breakfast is what makes a vacation become a vacation, right? Haven’t ever really articulated it this way, but chin-chin!


This view above.
The view in front aka high-fiving the sun.
No category whatsoever!

Yet the third day continued with the stop at the Maspalomas Dunes that made the trip by the coast to The Little Venice (the place we went to twice and had a delicious dinner by sunset, by the port) even more exciting. Sandy. As sand was all over us, but the feeling of being on the dunes, by the ocean… Was a totally new feeling which only empowered the butterflies of gratefulness and freedom in my stomach, head, heart.

And just when you think it might not get even more interesting, it always does.
Mom, this is what I was writing about.

Planning in life is something I am continuously learning about, so I plan. I planned this trip, yet the bliss of it exceeded any of my expectations. Wait, I don’t think I had any or thought of any. Hm. I only imagined the feelings I dreamt for us all to have during it. It exceeded the dreams.

You riding? Flying?

We all choose who to live and share life with, ride waves and fly kites with.

Mooom, get off that kite! 

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Comfort Is The Ultimate Luxury!

August 28, 2018


Just like nature and human nature are. Hallelujah!

Comfort became a word worldwide attached to clothes and we could not be happier since we are 🥁 here 🥁. We say happier upon us having been happy already due to the word’s first ever meaning: a state of physical ease and freedom from pain or constraint, the easing or alleviation of a person’s feelings of grief or distress (according to dictionary.com).

Love is the va-va-voom (according to our imagination)!

I’d just got to the mountains with the family and Love At First Sight began.

I knew the kind of weekend it was going to be from the moment we all decided to go. This summer’s last official weekend with the family at the mountains, somewhere far away from any kind of noise, traffic or even internet. What? Yes.

I couldn’t keep my eyes off of it.

Not even when reading.

Comfort all over the place and onto one’s face. It only rhymed, but it’s actually not far from the truth. The face only belonged to the sun and the moon. The body was only covered by the comfiest clothes I have been wearing for years, clothes I don’t mind wrinkling or getting messy in, clothes I thought of turning into loungewear, but still haven’t. It’s for these kind of occasions, but also for the nights out and about whenever I feel like lounging wherever I go through town.

And dance the whole time through. In my imagination, at least.

1. I keep on putting these shorts into the giveaway pile, yet they somehow get into my outfits. With sneakers and neon orange striped t-shirt on (below), with black sandals and top on a night out on, with greek nude sandals and hoodie whenever on.

Nature, human nature, hello?

Upon our arrival, I turned the VH1 on and the Summer Lovin’ Top 100 was on. Love At First Sight was just on! The outfit and set-up in the video may look pretty tech and all at first, but its warm vibe is everything the weekend was about. This song has always, in fact, been about what life is all about. About style also and style is timeless.

Just like this song and video are. Hallelujah!

2. These pants I left in the house in the mountains, the house it wouldn’t all be the same without. The pants will always feel comfy there and a simple crop top will always do the trick. Just as the waist belt will. Just as the hat. Since we’re talking here about always, will we ever get out of the Birkenstocks?

It’s this feeling that makes you wanna knock your head against the walls and dance. Precisely the activities done throughout this weekend. Kylie did them on stairs. Myself did them through trees and stars at night, flowers and clouds in the afternoon, under the full moon and mild-mountain-like sun, with delicious food and red wine. And family, oh yeah (oh yeah the Batman voice!).

Breathe, the summer is not over yet!

3. This dress not only makes me feel like I’m naked, but most of the times almost gets me naked. It’s strapless and I just literally throw it on and off of me. Thank God for the bandana! This red one is close friends with the pink one from above.

Above, sky high.
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When Everything Is Everything and It Is Yet So Simple

June 07, 2017


The morning before was so, so hard to figure out what the f it is that I want. The night before the morning before, though, everything seemed so clear and simple: bathing suits and t-shirts. I am talking clothes here, in life I know that all I want is everything. 

Everything is everything, as Lauryn Hill says.

How not to want everything? We only have one life and I just love life so much, don’t you? Says myself even after crying the hell out of my lungs sometimes. I guess you cannot really enjoy the greatest joy unless at least a little bit of sourness. Sadness. Or a lot. Sometimes going through it to the deepest makes you see true happiness at its highest.

These last phrases were not planned, but they happened. I suck at planning, but realise that I like following one – once in a while – when there is one. When going on a trip. Although it is the coolest when nothing is planned and ***everything*** happens and boom! Happiness. And I am not talking here getaways only.

Trips though, coming back to trips. At the time of writing this, actually, I was coming home from the trip. Sometimes it’s hard to say goodbye when leaving the holiday destination and at other times it’s even harder when leaving for it. Just like this time. Suddenly I knew nothing about t-shirts or the place I hid my swimsuits over winter.

Except for a two-piece black one and boom, only then I knew. I wanted not necessarily just black with me, but some really simple stuff. It felt liberating. Simple is the best, after all. All simple, natural, not planned. I am talking everything here. Have I seen too many movies?

It felt like breathing. Says myself who likes va-va-voom just as much.

Like no make-up.

Aaanyway, I’m telling you: a couple of t-shirts (but really good ones), of jeans (but true jeans), a pair of sandals (but cool sandals who like to have fun), of sneakers (but the ones you adore), a dress or two you have for years (to gather more memories into), a jumper (you can’t seem to be able to live without anymore) and at least one bathing suit (because naked is not as possible as one might wish for) is all you need for a #vitaminesea weekend.

Because this is all I wore on trip in spite of the many other clothes I somehow managed to stuff into so many bags that I so am not a fan of, jees. Yet again, a carry-on would have done it. But then the drama before the trip? And then the staring at the sun, the sky, the kitesurfers, the overthinking in my head and the daydreaming wouldn’t have been the same. Or would it have? This human species is something else…

They say life is so easy, we just make it oh-so complicated. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t, maybe we do, maybe we don’t. Either way, it is so fucking interesting and I cannot wait for the rest of it. Still, maybe a little bit of planning never hurt nobody.

Just like partying. And crying – haha, kidding. Or not. You see? Maybe you do, maybe you don’t… JK. Or not

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The Sun Diet For 10 Days And The Carry-on Of 10 kg For It

September 24, 2016


It works!

The sun rose in my bed and I stared at it. The sun set in the sea and I stared at it. Every morning and every evening. Everyday. For as long as in my sight. Boom, stared! And I’m telling you, it does things to you as very few other could do. (more…)

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Untold. I Will Tell You

August 08, 2016

Is the title I came up with for the weekend that had just ended. The titles I dragged, the morning after it, from my partner in hugging and friends that joined me through it were:

S: Party. Road. Trip. Chaos. Adequate (?!).

A: Boomerang. Rave. Jump. Chaos. Raspberry.

M: Giving. (more…)

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THE wedding drill. Or any drill, for that matter.

July 28, 2016

If you have been invited and are actually going to a wedding the next weekend and you want so much to not feel like a bridesmaid when, in fact, you aren’t one and get out of the “same ol’ same ol'” routine and do things just a little (or a lot, good for you!) different, do it! (more…)

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Hey, this is me (Cristina Pavelescu) wearing a music cassette sweater, writing from Bucharest, Romania (and, luckily, from wherever elsewhere), yet always living in the world of OZ. A world I create, choose to move around in and invite you into. To truly smile in front of our computers, put any kind of questions, answer in writing or imagination, marvel at fashion.


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Think less. Less clothes when packing for trips. Then stupid more.

July 21, 2016

When it comes to packing for any sort of trips.

Until a few years ago, when I had to pack, I usually packed my whole wardrobe. No. Let’s put it this way. I packed almost all of my favourite pieces to wear at the moment, “in case I need anything“. But! But then a luggage of mine with 5 (!!!)(5!!!) (more…)

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Escape into yourself and then, well, on the beach

July 15, 2016

Do you know the “Dixit” card game? I am so not a board games kinda gamer, I can literally fall asleep while waiting in line watching. The board! The same board. With Dixit, though, it’s different. 

It triggers your imagination.

This is what happened with the picture above, too. My mind just went from the peak of the rollercoaster vrrroooomm through a bunch of “loops” and in a matter of seconds I thought “Hm, a place where a friend and I could stand still in ripped (at the buttox, full ripped buttox) classic jeans, bikini top and, hopefully – or not – bikini bottoms, hold a surfboard (surfboard, surfboard, it’s been a long time, what) even though none of us know how to surf, look at something rather splendid (in an awaited, but chill way kinda way) and enjoy whatever it is we want to enjoy in a place we kinda randomly arrived in, but dreamed of once.

Together. At a 3 a.m.

I’ve just projected this into the universe (“3 a.m.”s above and the universe go hand in hand). And maybe, just maybe, I will reedit this with some Instragrammed picture of the above. And then I will tell you exactly what we were looking at and either we knew or not how to surf.

Surfboard, surfboard.

In the meantime, I’m just enjoying the feeling of the feeling described above, after shutting my mind and eyes and dreaming for a second of the beach we’re standing on. An extreme power nap. Of a second. Yup, this is the speed my mind is running at usually. 

This puts me in a good mood.

Are you at the beach now? Doing everything from above? Better? Are you? Arghh. You know what rhymes with “Are you”. My friend Ioana would now tell me: “Cristina, no, I don’t”. And that’s why I love her, but still am not going to say what rhymes with “Are you”. Basically any verb and you. Wink.

Everything you can imagine is real“, said Pablo Picasso.

One way or another, at some point or another, in one world or another, I am sure it is. You just have to work on it.

Only chemistry happens. Everything else is what we have to work on.


Ladies and gentlemen, I give you “LOOK OF THE DAY”. A pair of good jeans (and genes), loose hair, bikini top, something good to drink (and eat), something beautiful to look at and to dream about.

See you later, crocodile!

In your mailbox would be ideal, yet in your e-mail is pretty close, yay!
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Hey, this is me (Cristina Pavelescu) wearing a music cassette sweater, writing from Bucharest, Romania (and, luckily, from wherever elsewhere), yet always living in the world of OZ. A world I create, choose to move around in and invite you into. To truly smile in front of our computers, put any kind of questions, answer in writing or imagination, marvel at fashion.


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Chanel & Gisele

May 04, 2016



We are barely over the Met Gala fuss and muss, that we wake up on the 4th of May and boom! The Instagram goes crazy with the launch of Chanel Cruise 2016 collection and Gisele is nonchalantly saying “‘morning!” from every fashion magazine’s account, casually wearing a red Chanel dress, a timeless Chanel bag and Chanel flat sandals and, obviamente (obviously in Portuguese, the native language of the Brazilian model), sexy smiling from, from, from… Drums… Cuba.

Oh, and that béret.

Yes, Cuba, whilst it seems like everywhere on the planet it just keeps on raining. And we love rain. And vacation. Just as much.


Close your eyes. I am closing mine. I can type with eyes closed. Ok, I’m closing them. So. As I was saying. I just woke up. You did, too. And you still lay in bed, watching the ocean over your super comfy bed and, no tv on, no phone in the proximity, you hear the waves. And then you
stretch. You slept so well and you are going to have a super day.

Oh, the vacation drill.

Slowly you stand up, not yawning (that’s not so sexy in the morning), but strolling to the bar and no, not having the Mojito (nor the Cuba Libre, nor the Daiquiri, nor the Pina Colada), but a
lemonade. The breeze enters the room. Behind the bar is the love of your life.

I know, the romance, the drama.

You smile, you hug, you kiss. You know. Ok, I’m on the beach. You still at the hotel. Roar. But come, they have watermelons here and the sun wants your skin.

I’ll be in the waves.

Time flies when having fun, hurry up! Chanel is throwing this massive show in the streets. They are dropping their Cruise 2016 collection.


Yes! Here, in Havana. Gisele is invited, Oh, here she comes.







I, afterwards, liked the picture. Duh.

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Surfboard, Surfboard

August 25, 2015


And my hair was at home, at last.


This was supposed to be the holiday that wouldn’t have got on OZ. Just in OZ. You must know the drill up until now if you’ve become one of us, from our own OZ. Aw. You know what I mean and I am blushing now.

Moving on, I was very sure of our time being spent solely on the beach, no internet, no job (but when you love what you do, it doesn’t feel like work, it’s fun, uh). With books and magazines (which were a third of the suitcase, you don’t want to know just how many of them got to actually be read, I don’t either) and sunscreen.

“And wind!!!”, he would say after becoming the straight face emoji. And I’d be like:


Yet again, it is an island. And there’s something about the idea of an island. So imagine my surprise when we went on an island which is only an island during winter (when water level is high enough) and a tiny peninsula of an island (Rodos, our base now) in summer. So we went to this peninsula of Rodos called Prasonisi. And then, this came along. The pictures, the drill.

the Aegean on the right, the Mediterranean on the left
The Aegean on the right, the Mediterranean on the left

the Aegean on the right, the Mediterranean on the left
The Aegean on the right, the Mediterranean on the left

“And the home of wind!”, he would say. And I’d be like “Let’s staaay!”. And he’d be like “Okaaay…”. And I’d be like “Oh yaaay!”.




Fun fact: as you arrive, you have the Aegean Sea on the right with big waves and professional surfers and the Mediterranean Sea on the left with flatter water and beginner surfers. We were none, but will be some (praying emoji). Well, my hair is a pro surfer.

Prasonisi is good for wind and kitesurfing. Still surfing. Surfboard, surfboard.


You know the birdwatching watching? We did the surfwatching watching.



No phones, no books, no music (!!!), nothing. Just the sun, the sea, the cool crowd and the trailers. Because yes, you can come and camp here. Aaaa!


This feeling of freedom here...
This feeling of freedom here…

“That is if you absolutely love the wind!”. Truth is, when we left Prasonisi, I felt like something was missing. It wasn’t just about that freedom feeling. It was the wind.


“But there’s something in the wind, too…”.


Don’t forget your eyes, your camera. Make pictures with them both. Let your mind flow. Oh, oh.



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Jon Snow was my date in Pompeii. Yay!

August 21, 2015


Jon Snow is alive. I saw him in Pompeii while sightseeing, a few days ago, with my family. We were all here (near Napoli, that is) for the wedding of my dear cousin, Iulia. Italian wedding. Uh, uh! Jon is coming, too. Told you he’s not dead.


There is the movie and you bet I saw it. Jon stars in “Pompeii” and no matter my let’s say appreciation for him, the movie is crap did no justice to him. To Jon. And who cared about the story? It was about him all along and I thought the city disappeared anyway so Pompeii would have never come up as a destination to my mind anyway. It wouldn’t have been like “Aww Pompeii“. Nope. It’d have been like “Aww Jon Snow”.

Even when I was an hour apart from the city of Pompeii, I still wanted to go to Capri, not to Pompeii. You see? Life. Jon has not for a moment crossed my mind then, but he sure crossed mind later on. Aw!

Say pizza!
Say pizza!

The place turned out to be not like in the movie. It is actually a city. Duh.

It was just my family and I on a cruel, cruel summer day. And we were sightseeing. Quite a sight, I’m telling you. The shadow was our best guide for the day. To me, though? Nothing could have ruined the party in my soul: my parents and brother altogether sightseeing again? Just like old, gold times. You kidding me? It could have rained or even snowed, I didn’t care. The Vezuvio itself could have erupted. I didn’t care.

Cosa nostra

Vezuvio is the volcano that destroyed the city of Pompeii nearly 2000 years ago. “Or so they say”, my mom would say. Still, it is one of the most dangerous volcanoes in the world because of the population of 3 mill people living nearby and its tendency towards exploding. But you know, who caaared? #almostfirstwarworldproblems

We didn’t get to actually climb the volcano (because you can do this on a tour bus), but we did visit the remains of the city of Pompeii in the middle of nowadays Pompeii. It pretty much looked like the movie set.

Jon was there. So yes, movie. So yes, set.

Tip: don’t make a trip out of Pompeii solely. Make it into a road trip to the South of Italy. Or a wedding. Or to meet Jon Snow. That is as likely possible as it is snowing in Pompeii. Or Napoli, for that matter.

Cathedral of Pompeii

Street in Pompeii

Police station in Pompeii

Street view


Houses in Pompeii

The ruins on the left

Walking hand in hand

Ruins of Pompeii

At the entrance in the ruins


Inside the museum

Movie set

Small shadows


Hide & seek

View in the ruins


There you are!

This light on the streets of Pompeii

These colours

These trees all over the South of Italy are to fall in love with.

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