I've moved on...
...to a different domain. Why, what were you thinking? The truth is, I just woke up one day and decided it's time for a change—a metamorphosis, if you will; or, in layman's terms, if Britney can shave her head, then maybe so can I? Nevertheless, it's been a rather handsome 10 years of talking to you, and thank you for putting up with all my moodswings and terrible dad jokes. Fear not! The hormonal imbalance and jokes are more terrible on CUBICLE, see you there.

Jacket – Kappahl, Waistcoat – Courtesy of Dorothy Perkins for Take 10 Project, Dress – Gmarket, Knit Dress & Bag – Market in Vilnius, Shoes – Zara, Belt – Vintage
Thank you brother for the photos!

9 other interpretations: clockwise Sabine (Psynopsis), moi, Adele (Molto Curiosa), Vicki (Magpie Girl), Sherin (Hi Fashion), Leia (Leia’s Delights), Saskia (Not Just Medical), Jen (A Little Bird Told Me), Sarah (We Shop Therefore We Are), MJ (Dreaming Spires & Old Car Tyres)

When we decided to call it a ‘Challenge’ I don’t think any of us actually thought it would be a literal challenge, a style trial – you’ll see in every one of our Take 10 posts we’re expressing some kind of ‘how the helsinki does one style this garment’ remark or another. A lace waistcoat, is this something you’d picture in my wardrobe? Well it’s hanging there now, limp, distressed I’m sure, in the thought that it’ll never again see the light of bulb after this shoot – but fear you not waistcoat, I have seen much potential in you. Dorothy Perkins have sent you along the river on a wicker basket and I will raise you. (Into a DIY victim MUHAHA)

Anyway, do take on a fun challenge by picking out a completely not-you from the sales rack, and have a good old brain rattle that’s usually only necessary during calculus… see how it hurts. Oh, I just compared calculus with styling a waistcoat, shoot me.

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Top – Uniqlo, Pants – Zara, Bag – Vintage, Necklace – H&M, Watch – Casio, Bracelet – COS, Shoes – Bought in Tokyo 2008

Leather bag from Old Town market I fell in love with <3

It even surprises me how much I travel with my family. Apparently at my age I should be doing roadtrips with a horde of friends to the soundtrack of I’m not a girl not yet a woman, regularly taking turns to bully the one wearing the bumbag. Instead, I’m riding  into a golfcourse sunset horizon with my mother, father, brother and golfbag – note, that ¾ of the family can not play golf. The car journey is always the same – my brother and myself wedged in each corner of the back seat, with a mid-point fence made from tennis rackets, jolting awake to dramatic truck overtaking. In fact, my father seems to be rather taken from the thrill, we’d sit at the edge of our seats clutching at something solid, pleading for mercy while he takes over every vehicle in sight. Once he’s tired he switches on the 80s’s acoustic ballad hits and we’d roll over and simultaneously let out a moanthe lyrics are so cheesy that with a bag of Nachos we’d be a Taco Bell delivery car.

Well, Vilnius was beautiful, there were evident traces of a once-wealthy Lithuania that used to own half of Central Europe circa 1450’s. Next time I’m running away on a golf cart for a proper tour of the city, I believe finding a hotel 15km from the city was one of my father’s evil masterplan to teach me golf.