Do you know who I completely overlooked in writing about even though when I saw the show I said “oh my” in an excited manner and jumped up and down a little? Viktor & Rolf.

Yes, of course! I was out and about yesterday and found myself looking through magazines when I realised that not mentioning them could possibly become a tragedy. Or not.

The three pieces below are my favourites in the “okay, I could possibly wear that and get away with it” category. I also loved every single one of the mental, cut-out ball gowns but I can only ever see them being in a museum in the far future with a small child asking her gran, “Did people really wear things like that?” “No, dear, only at fashion shows.”

Yesterday, a postman speaking rapid Swedish way too early in the morning delivered a monstrosity of a box. Groggily peering at the box, I noticed it was for Carl Johan and upon talking to him, he waved a virtual finger at me and told me I couldn’t touch it until he got home. Which was about seven hours. Seven. Do not touch the box for seven hours.

Well, after taking a nap next to the box, eyeing it sideways, and peeling at the edges of the tape, he came home! Inside were several items including a minty green handbag, a funny photograph frame made to look like an old computer, a teapot in the shape of a sheep, and two books which upon discovering the word ‘journal’ on them, I asked, “Are we in therapy?’

Matching!

No, no therapy. Carl Johan had the idea that we could spend a period of time filling out these journals - every page gives you instructions on what to write, draw, or do - and then we could post them to each other. Post them because the back of the book says to do so though I don’t know what the point of that is. Our deadline is December, giving us plenty of time to work on our many other internet projects.

Luckily, before today I had never read an article that Tanya Gold of English news site, Guardian, has written. Unfortunately, in my daily cycle through the blogs I read, I was introduced.

Okay, so the piece had some interesting ideas about style but it didn’t quite hit the mark - it was this article about why the writer hates fashion. I believe this piece only got the limelight because of her straight-forward attitude and how shocking many fashion bloggers found it. And maybe because so many people are angry with the fashion industry these days for one reason or another.

The article is the embodiment of bitterness. She’s a middle-aged woman, she’s overweight and overpaid, and when she was younger, she obviously had self-image issues. Wait, she still does. You can tell she’s upset about it and has spent most of her life until recently trying to mold herself into the concept of ‘beautiful’ as defined by the fashion industry. But a lot of girls have gone through the same thing. These days, if you don’t have a self-image issue, you’re one of the lucky few, you’re already gorgeous, or you haven’t found the need to pick up a fashion mag and try to fit the part of the ‘flawlessly airbrushed and photoshopped beauty’ that society supposedly “wants.”

Once I’d finished reading that article, I wanted to know more about her. I wanted to know who she was, what her real thoughts were like, and what made her a ‘journalist.’

I read more articles from the past couple of years. I want to know one thing now - who hired her and why have they kept her? Her writing style is usually atrocious, sometimes unreadable and generally disjointed, as if she had random thoughts and threw them in wherever and whenever; her articles are about as good as some teenagers’ blogs. It seems like she didn’t bother to go back and actually read what she had written and she sounds like a woman who has become jaded: She didn’t have good experiences with relationships, sex, university, weight, or fashion and so she hates on everything. What a waste of effort. What a waste of money the Guardian is handing over to her.

If you’re interested in actually reading some of the articles that I had bothered to read, well, here you are:

• How on earth do students survive Freshers’ Week?
• The queen of unkindness
• Remembrance of flings past
• Going back in time
• The politics of sharing a bed
• Why I confess all

Today in news: Travel in the metro can be difficult. Especially when your husband tells you “Yeah, take the train going to Skarpnäck!” and you realise he’s told you the wrong way when you’ve reached Slussen which is very south of your destination.

After realising, you stay on the train for just a little bit longer, hoping the train might make a u-turn, but when you’ve gotten all the way to Skanstull, you lose all hope and hop on a train going back the way you came from.

So, the moral of this story is that when you’re wanting to get to Rådmansgatan, take the train that’s going to Åkeshov and ignore your husband completely. Serious business.

In good news, I had an extra long shopping day yesterday. I was meant to only go to Tjallamalla and the surrounding two shops but you know me. I cannot resist the gleam of a nice looking pattern or a lovely colour in a display window.

Cal bought me a really lovely vintage blazer from Tjallamalla, in cream and black colours, beaded and embroidered. I was meant to have some photographs taken of it today but failed due to the hectic travel plan and the lack of photographers in daylight. Tomorrow then, before 15:00, in the daylight, I shall pose in some new clothes. Be prepared.

I got the cuff (Tjallamalla, 150:-) shown above in beige and the Urban Outfitters handbag (above right) was ordered and should be happily on its way. I have a deep love for minty green and luckily, it’s one of the colours of Spring 2010; now I have an excuse to wear that colour out without looking like your gran.