~* My Bohemian Beauty *~

Look what I got!!!!! Isn’t she purrrrrrrrfect!

IMG_2119

There is a very special person in this world – in MY world – who didn’t want the children and I feeling cold… And arranged this when I was on a business trip in Paris. The car has absolutely everything you could dream of – even a little jar where to put perfume <3 <3 <3. Well, she is French after all <3.

You can imagine how spoiled I feel… Both feet firmly off the ground as usual.

Happy Monday my dear friends! Mine already is <3.

IMG_2120

~*~

What do you think, dear?
Sharing is caring ♥

~* Best of times *~

First time since ages, my youngest son and I got to spend a full evening together. Dinner and a movie it was, both chosen by him. Pirates of the Caribbean… Pizza dinner, eaten in bed… Many laughs, him explaining the plot and characters to me,  laying together on our small sofa – total stress release. My guys simply are the best company ever.

After, Luca asked me to stay with him until he fell asleep, to chase away any potential nightmare. My baby.

Then in the morning he sneaked silently into my bed, whispered into my ear. “Do you remember when I told you that you’re the best mother in the world?”. Yes of course, I answered. No mother would ever forget – he’s said it only once, in those  exact words.

He hugged me tightly. “I really meant it”, he whispered.

Speechlessness at it’s purest.

IMG_1932

*<3*

What do you think, dear?
Sharing is caring ♥

~* Standstill *~

Huoh now I’ve learned what it’s like to try to try work when surrounded by 5,6 million angry Frenchmen on strike… And these guys sure take their strikes seriously. Taxi drivers, who were let’s say a little less than satisfied with their benefits, blocked all possible roads. Overnight, Paris became dead empty, a deserted city. Tires were burned on highways leading to airports… Flights cancelled… One temperamental bus driver got fed up with the taxi drivers blocking him and drove head on into the demonstrating crowd… Police and soldiers with machine guns everywhere.

images (1)

And there I was, in my hotel, with altogether 50 kilos of cargo. Not realising a strike was imminent, I’d dragged all my newfound LadyBohemia treasures to the hotel, thinking I’d ship them to Finland the next. morning. A day fully booked with meetings, this amount of clothes shoes and bags to carry, and I was so heavily charged I couldn’t even move.

It took half a day and dozens of help begging phone calls to get a lift from anyone – just anyone. At the end I just asked drivers to name their price to take me around for a few hours so I could make my purchases and ship the goods By the time I was almost in tears along came Lee, a wonderful gentleman who agreed to be my private chauffeur for the day. He carried my bags, boxes, suitcases; took me all around the city for my meetings… Took me to airport next morning … And even carried my suitcases all the way to the check-in counter. Salvation.

I made it, was able to send my goods to LadyBohemia, and was able to even get to the plane I’m sitting in when writing this. Just yesterday all this would have been impossible.

Huoh.

What do you think, dear?
Sharing is caring ♥

~* Paris positively floating *~

Such a happy, happy day.

Today I’m positively floating. Love is in the air, beautiful plans being made, most romantic city of the world surrounding me, feeling so loved and utterly spoiled… For the first time in such a long time, I dare to dream. Sounds little and humble yet means everything. Just like missing someone is the sweetest pain in the world… Cause you understand the bliss of having that somebody to miss.

My favorite ever Paris hotel, where they blow kisses my way and wish me welcome home when I enter… Dinner at my local restaurant  where they remember which music I love…

 A long call from my special someone.

Life is beautiful.

109_946348242103258_1396641375981140041_n

Dinner at the “library room”, Quartier Latin

~*~

What do you think, dear?
Sharing is caring ♥

~* With a little help from my friends *~

On Saturday we had the most fun day at LadyBohemia – decided to have a live mannequin in the window display. My author/dancer/model friend volunteered and regally waived, Charleston danced and blew kisses to passers-by all day… Word spread around and soon people came from near and far to see… “Look there she is!” Some took photos, most waived back, many came to greet us… This little gesture made so many people smile and laugh, and inside the shop was all laughter as well.

IMG_5789

On that day and after we’ve had even children or elderly gentlemen come in and thank us for bringing smiles and life to our little street. Not to mention the impact when my sweet Bhakti climbed to the vitrine and danced to people… She only has to stand somewhere and people come to tell her she looks like a princess. And children actually believe she is one (she is, of course ;) ). So just look take a look at this…

Our theme song to be danced to by all at the shop was this… So very appropriate :)

All about that bass

My cool LadyBohemia ladies sure know how to rock it <3.

~*~

What do you think, dear?
Sharing is caring ♥

~* At LadyBohemia *~

Tomorrow – no it’s already today… We have a big clearing at the shop before new arrivals, meaning sales up to 70 %. Plenty of good stuff, including a raffle between all visitors. And do take a closer look at the store window for our live model….

So warm welcome Saturday, we’re open 11-17 on Kapteeninkatu 26, next to the KOM theatre. Even I intend not to be late <3.

These Moonalia chains and a few other items, just in

These Moonalia chains and a few other items, just in

~*~

What do you think, dear?
Sharing is caring ♥

~* My babes *~

Boys came back from holidays from Southern France – difference in temperature more than 30 degrees…

9564_992070400832023_5761952452277463777_n

*

10308079_992070410832022_6962103093737218711_n

Yesterday they ate strawberries poolside of their own garden… Momentarily I worried as they came back… How would the biting cold feel…

12494814_992070434165353_3437336438818637479_n

12507196_10153839144645561_2671339226454188099_n

Water 16 degrees, December

*

12509614_10153839145205561_1809720571681362425_n

What underestimation of my guys. They were home for an hour before heading to Kaivopuisto for some serious snow sledging with their cousins & best friends.

I, once again, was the only one for whom it’s too cold here. But how warm at home, now that I’ve got my best buddies back <3.

Happy, happy, happy <3.

What do you think, dear?
Sharing is caring ♥

~* Busy busy *~

Our first ever big sale just started… I was, as usual, fashionably late for my own sale and found a little queue waiting outside the shop upon arrival :). Tomorrow still with 50 % off from most of our selection, will also update sales items on Etsy… Then I’m off to welcome the New Year. Don’t know where or how but can’t wait.

12443065_961694890534718_287861743_n

~*~

What do you think, dear?
Sharing is caring ♥

~* Another time and place *~

A friend of mine is planning to visit Marrakech. I am seriously dreaming of going with her. I’ve been there once – it is the birthplace of one of the most magical experiences of my life.

We lived in a local home, a riad as they call them – house without windows towards the exterior so the women can’t be seen by anyone but family. In the middle, there is a square courtyard where the family can be outside but unseen by anybody else.

Our riad was extremely liberal. Two young gay men lived there together, openly in love, without anybody’s judgement – in fact the other one of them had been sent back to Morocco from France by his family to learn “traditional values”. A lady called Amina took care of us, we become friends with her.

One evening the air was thick with anticipation and festive spirit. A wedding was being prepared in the riad next to us – the preparation had something to do with chasing away illness and bad spirits. They called it Gnawa ceremony, according to the Gnawa people who had been brought to Marrakech as slaves from the Sub Saharan Africa. Amina and the boys belonged to that tribe. Very exceptionally, Amina invited us to join in the festivities…  The riad was packed, some 70 locals, my ex and me.

In the main room, there were musicians who played age old instruments. They came from families of musicians, their heritage having been passed on for centuries. Slowly the music changed and intensified. We tried to understand what we were witnessing… But everybody else spoke only Arabic and it was as alien to us as was the scene.

As midnight approached, the music started to correspond to color. And it called out something in some of the people, spirits or source of evil or illness, they explained us. Amidst our Arabic and their French, we understood nothing but what we saw. But when an orange music would start, a person, or many, would make an animal howl or cry. Roll their eyes. Surge to the center of the floor -the rest of us sat down on the floor next to the walls. A wild, primal dance if you can call it so, was kind of pulled out of the person. The dancer was out of any control, falling, wailing, hurling… The others held the dancers in the middle of the room with long orange pieces of cloth, forming a center where they moved to the music. This continued till the dancer passed out. Literally, fell and fainted. Then she was carried out of the circle to the next room where mattresses were laid down. The music would continue as long as any “orange” dancer was still standing. Then the color would change.

Blue music, blue cloth, different people seemingly possessed. Some women responded to color after color. We couldn’t understand how they were physically able to go on like that… Yet everybody around us welcomed this as something completely normal – except for our gay host who had been raised in France, understood none of this just like us, and was terrified. When his boyfriend was “invited” by a color I thought it would be him who would faint first.

Mostly it was women who reacted to the music,  from a really large 80-year-looking grandmother to a little girl of maybe 10 years of age. We were seriously worried the grandmother would have a heart attack before she could chase the spirit away. Bathing in sweat, she was half conscious and it went on and on… We were so relieved when she fainted, alive. It took four people to carry her to the next room.

There was no logic, no reason a Western mind could find. They didn’t put on a show for tourists. They didn’t ask or accept any kind of payment. They just offered us the traditional, warm Moroccan hospitality, being kind, serving their mint tea… We even considered that there could have been something in the tea of the people who lost themselves… But it was the same tea served to everybody – even us. So powerful was the experience that we kept on checking whether either of us was feeling anything strange… Worried what to do if the other one of us would suddenly feel this – whatever it was.

It was something wild, primal, animal. We didn’t understand it but having witnessed it, we had to believe this happened.

At some point they closed all the lights, all the candles. A different color started, the animal howls in total darkness. The woman next to me understood I was afraid. She took my hand, caressed my back, repeating something (comforting?) in Arabic… I whispeared my boyfriend, seriously meaning it “Do you think there’s any chance this might involve human sacrifice?”. Everybody was as kind and welcoming towards us as ever possible… But the inhuman screams in the darkness… My engineer-rational, everything estimated based on likelihood -boyfriend grabbed my other arm firmly saying neither of us would move an inch before lights would come back.

The colors, music, dance went on till 7-8 in the morning. The musicians never stopped, till the last person of the last color had dropped.

Speechless, we wandered to our own riad to go to sleep in the morning. There were and are no words to what we’d experienced. We tried to talk about it with my father-in-law who had lived in Marrakech for years and spoke perfect Arabic.. But he was blocked in the idea that it was a fix for tourists. Or hallusinogens were involved.

I disagree. Even my ever so rational engineer ex-husband disagrees.

Maybe you don’t need to be able to explain everything in words.

these-boots-are-made-for-walking2 copy

What do you think, dear?
Sharing is caring ♥