(Dress: Malo SS 2009)

HEAT. Sweat, flesh and no where 2 hide. @ least not outside.
So I spent the morning walking through granny's wardrobes. Smell of mothballs, old perfume and expensive fabric.
As I walked in and out of the walk-through closets I realized.
Must b a million $ only in FABRIC there.

*

Btw, the other day by the pool.
It WAS the attorney callin' . Of course.
"Do you have it?" he asked and I froze. DID I have it?
I went inside and I looked in the drawer and THERE it was. How could I've forgotten? I took the tiny golden key in my hand, it felt weirdly heavy and quite cold against the skin of my palm.
"Sure" I said "I've got it.
I tried to say it casual, but my heart pounded violently.
"Now what do you want me I do with it?"
"Hold on to it" he said.
And b4 I could say anything else he hung up and I just stood there, heart still pounding. Was I dreaming?

(Sweater - Rodebjer)

This morning I woke up with a weird feeling. Half asleep I climbed the canyon, almost reached the sign.
Now I sit here and watch the city inhale cars.
It's a lovely morning, ocean blue sky but all I see is the yellow fog on the horizon.

*

Black has disappeared. Said she was gonna go for a "walkabout". That was yesterday morning. I have no idea where she is.
As if that wasn't enough Aloysius is pestering me.
"You told her about ME." He whines. "You told her I love her and she ran away. Women always run away from men of strong feelings."
I tell him I didn't say a thing and that he is being paranoid.
"Well" he says "it's hard not 2 b paranoid when all womanhood is conspiring against me!"

*

And yeah - thought I saw Evan again, when I was on my way to the hill. Started walking up 2 him and then he turned and looked @ me.
"Trying to sneak up on me?" he said. It was an old man with a white beard.

We're in the small ward of Hope for Kids hospital. The sky outside the windows is watercolor blue but inside everything is white. The doctor gives me a serious look and tells me that there's nothing 2 be done, and my heart stops.
"N…n…nothing?"
"No" he says solemnly almost with a hint of anger "because this is a REAL hospital, and we don't treat teddybears."
I look around in the small room until I understand it must be Aloysius he's talking about. I show him the pad of 100$ bills Black convinced me to bring. He nods, still solemly.
"The advantages of America's system with private hostpitals" he says "is we can always make exceptions 4 the truly needy."

*

Now me and Black are in the car. Roof down. Aloysius is next to me, under two blankets, wearing a huge bandage. If he's feeling better though is hard to say.

*

No word from the attorney. The date for the funeral is still the 32:nd of august and he is still in Hawaii.

Me and Black @ Rodeo Dr, hand in hand, with hats on our heads and sun at our backs. Lately I've been possessed by a vague feeling of delusion, but shopping takes it away for a moment. However, Black had one too many glasses of Dom Pérignon @ Dolce&Gabbana and tried to "ascend" the chandelier.
Later we walked the battleground of dreadful shoes @ Guess. Black bought every pair and asked the confused salesclerk to throw them away, "so no poor drunkie happens to buy them."
Thank god she didn't enter Chanel.

Good news!
You know I've been telling you about the mysterious lodger in granny’s guestroom in the left wing. I've gathered some clues, but far from anything crucial. Like, he eats bear food and owns a Persian cat. I've suspected our gardener, and even Black, but this morning, something happened!

It started by me finding a note on the kitchen table.
"Dear idiot!
If you must insist on proving to the world that you are an intellectual wannabe with father issues, I beg u do it with something causing less collateral damage than playing Sjostakovitj #5. Actually I beg u 2 move out and never 2 come back."

The note itself wasn't that much of a clue BUT it was held to the table by an empty bottle of Madeira wine, and THAT is the wine that I drink. And the reason that I drink it is that my family drinks it. In fact, my family is the only people left in this world who still drinks Madeira!

Ergo: Mr. Mysterious MUST be a relative!

***

Btw: New to this. What bloggers should I follow?

The Chanel party. Just as luxurious as the invitation suggested. Hidden in the garden behind the store. Lush greenery. Scents of flowers and perfume. String Quartet playing Bach in front of grannys old friends. More war diamonds than in the Sierra Leone town hall.

Four VERY smily women welcomes us. Me in my Dior and Black in some weird army suit.
"So happy you could join us!" They smile and try not to look @ Blacks outfit.
"Just give us the champagne" black snorts.

After about eight glasses more, the well-combed staff looks sort of reluctant to come Blacks way. Black waves, but gets no attention. She turns towards the SMILING guy in front holding some speech about what a CREATIVE woman Coco was. How her sense of style dragged her from her misery. I see how Blacks eyes get darker.
"You could say a lot of Coco" Black shouts "but she wouldn't have let her party guests go thirsty!"
The audience turns towards us. 200 disgusted eyes.
I want to disappear, vanish, but the guy don't lose a beat.
"So you like our champagne" he begins, with a sardonic voice, but he has missed on Blacks mood.

"Yeah we like champagne" black interrupts him. "But yours? Well I guess you are right about Cocos CREATIVITY. I mean how she used the Nazi occupation of Paris to fuck half the occupation government and @ the same time get control of some lucrative perfume business by having the owners sent of to Auschwitz and their shares given to the "aryan" Coco. I mean, it's THEIR perfume money that still pays for this party, so just GIMME some fucking CHAMPAGNE will you?"

While the smiling ladies (not smiling anymore) are leading us out, Black seems in a festive mood.
"Thank you ladies" she says "I'm sure Coco would appreciate your sense of tradition, I mean the fact that you all still are FASCISTS here!!"

(And readers: how do you like this? I'm hesitating to write everything black does, it's like she does more outrageous things just because she knows I'll write about it. Like she's starting to act like a character in a book or something? What do you think?)

Back home I just stare at her in confusion and suddenly I notice. It's something with her eyes, an hazy sharpness that I can’t remember from when we were young.
"Please Black,” I say "if something happened when I was away you must tell me."
"Something happened?" she mocks me "Happened like sex? Oh I know what you wanna hear… so it was @ Bardot. Me and Perez Hilton had just..."
I shrug trying not to laugh.
"Seriously" I say "if there is something..."
"Ok YOU tell me" she snaps "tell me about Viktor. Tell me about how he used to read night time stories for you while you crossed seas in a bird of steel. Tell me about his smile, about his…"

But I don't hear her anymore. I'm out of the room.

*

Why is she like this? It's like the only thing we can do is to party. As soon as something even vaguely serious comes up she runs away.

*

Well. If that's the way it's going to be, fine! Tomorrow we're going to Chanel’s Party @ Rodeo Drive. I've gotten a hand written invitation. Well, ok, it's for granny, but I'm the heir, right?

Yesterday. When darkness sneaked up on us we drove downtown where they filmed a new season of Jersey Shore. Cute dogs with unpretentious haircuts, an army of polite homeless ppl and free jello shots @ The Standard. "To try out real life" as Black put it (but sometimes she just speaks in a foreign language). She was on the move. A translucent water gun loaded with Vodka in one hand, Aloysius in the other.

Now. Rooftop afternoon. Aloysius confuses water with poison. Glances @ me with eyes of desperation and sadness. I give him an encouraging smile.
"You must let the fear swallow you." Black whispers dramatically.

And suddenly a hazy memory hits me. It had been two weeks since we left Venice (not the beach but the Italian city built on water and hubris) for LA. I laid on granny's driveway in an attempt to melt away, when a thin figure leaned over me. Switched off the sun.
"Come on lazy." She said and handed me a worn edition of Crime and Punishment. "I'm gonna learn you how to fly."

(Me: Viktor’s favorite tee and a skirt/mantle that is some old Kenzo thing I found in granny’s wardrobe.
Black: Tee from Comme des Garçons and a headpiece she found on the street)

Argh. Seems like no good thing can enter my life without dragging a whole wagon of problems with it. Now it's Aloysius. He hasn't eaten all day, not even his Coco Pops. When I speak to him he doesn't answer, just sits sulking in a corner. I'm starting to think he just can't stand me being happy.
But happy I am. Me and Black spent the day shopping and drinkin' Pinot down in Silver Lake. I got a new jacket from McQueen and a hat from the 99cent store. Black got three bottles of Rum.
Now we're gonna watch some Audrey Hepburn movie.

Ps. I'll pick the winner of this treasure on Monday.

Yesterday Black convinced me to say yes to one of all the invitations I've been getting since I came back, so as darkness fell we hit Hollywood. First Paul & Andrés - a tiny place hidden behind some dumpsters on Cosmo Street.

Black worked the room like a dark tornado with a cigarette between her lips, chatting with everyone in sight. Aloysius were happy as a camper and sipped his Gin like Joey Bishop in The Deep Six. After an hour he got so drunk and obnoxious that "Paul" (politely) had to ask us to leave. And I suddenly remembered why I don't allow the stupid bear to drink hard liquor.

Just woke up in my own bed. Air smelling of summer and Black’s YSL Opium. Same reflections of the pool dancing in the dusty ceiling and same sense of lonlieness, but then I turn and I see Black sleeping. Mouth open and Aloysious clutched in her arms.

We get up and find my Mexican gardener dancing around on the lawn, listening to Bowie’s Changes and singing (screaming) along. Maybe my happiness is contagious.

Anyway, now we're of to get Blacks stuff. Cause yesterday we decided that she should move in with me and throw some life in this ghost house.
I'm looking forward to meeting her mother again. She's a lady who’s dressed in these sort of diamanté jeans Victoria Beckham would love… doesn’t that say it all?

Tonite black has convinced me to accept the inivitation to some "cool" party where the DJ apparently has DJ:d for Queen Victoria (not the Beckam one, but the one of the house of Windsor). Perhaps we can hope for some Pomp and Circumstance for Aloysious?

Talk soon!

Sitting in the shadow of the steaming Silver Lake sun. Should really be shopping clothes for granny's funeral, but instead I rest here under an almond tree with birds flocking around my feet.

It’s so weird. My love is back. My Helen of Troy. If it weren't for the fact that she's right here in front of me walking around in circles on the sidewalk, taking pics of the plebs and noblesse I wouldn't believe it.

Maybe I'm still a little dizzy from the non-stop talking about everything that's happened the last five years. OR the zero sleep. OR the fact that the only substances that has entered my body today is one bottle of chilled pinot and the smoke from one packet of Marlboro Lights.
Anyway. Black is here and she is smiling, with her lips colored by last night's Pinot grapes and cheap Tesco lipstick. Watching her passing out (my) 20$ bills to the homeless (and not homeless) I am, for the first time in as far as I can remember, happy.

Kids, are you up yet?
The weirdest thing just happened last night. I left the Chateau early. Too many memories of butterflies. Then the scene is me sittin' in front of the MacBook upstairs in the dimly lit room touching myself to Altuzarra SS11 when grain on glass gets my attention.

And there. Outside at the LED-lit porch is SHE. Long brown hair, a pre-Raphaelite painting. She's wearing some kind of Kimono and a sailors-hat.
My heart, as always, is rockin' out of control.
"Hello YOU" she sings, "…You’re so fucking special! But I’m a creeeeep, I’m a weirdoooo!”
Then she smiles a smile that can cure cancer.

And now, as I'm changing clothes she's downstairs in the kitchen putting the ice in the Pinot.

Tonite Hollywood need to keep it's guard up.

Dress: Mom's old Celine 

I've been dreaming about the fields of my hometown in Karelia lately. Huge green fields under an empty summer sky.
In this first dream I was walking my neighbours dog. A huge black Doberman.

The dog was strong and wild and I could barely hold her as she dragged me by the leash through the damp grass and the poppy flowers. But as soon as I let go of the leash she would instantly stop, return to my feet and sit down quietly like a true lapdog.

After a while I understand she wants to tell me something. I follow her to this willow tree with bent old branches (I hadn't noticed the tree before, although it's right in the middle of the field.)
As soon as we're there she starts climbing the branches, higher and higher and I follow her through the thick green and the world dissapears under us. Suddenly we're right under the sky and I can see EVERYTHING from here but as I turn to the dog to thank her for showing me this she suddenly jumps of her branch and dissapears into the clouds beneath.

When I return to the neighbour with an empty leash and tell him what has happened he looks confused and points at the sofa where the dog is lying, sleeping.
I look down on my hands and notice that there’s no leash. Then I wake up.

(Chloé skirt + Proenza dress)

TODAYS OUTFIT: a funeral for the past.

Standin in front of the house I just inherited from granny. White spanish walls hidden in the lush greenery. I think of Pneumonia Black. It was the year of Christina Aguilera, Starbucks latte, Shrek 2, when Hilfiger used bright candy colors on bomber jackets and the xxxx.
Me and Black used to sneak into the neighbours garden, smoke dads bootleg Cohibas and drink Madeira whine.

My thoughs are interrupted by the mexican gardener. He's wearing a huge paisley fretted jacket. Sweat dripping from his forehead making new patterns on it.
He tells me the pros and cons of the neighborhood, just like the popular kids do with new students @ high school.

Pro: lots of gardening to do.
Con: only idiots live here. Especially the woman in 306. And everyone else.

I nod and tell him I hope not to spoil his description.

TODAYS OUTFIT: Alaïa, pale skin and 10 ounces of wind.

18.17 my plane lands @ Los Angeles international airport. Like a snake after hibernation I crawl into the light, and when my Karelian feet touch the boiling ground a wave of heat hits me like a wife abuser. I wear:
✝ A 1952 Italian straw hat to shield me from the sun.
✝ One pint of Gin to shield me from myself.

And as I gaze @ heaven I realize that for the first time in 4-ever, I AM HAPPY.
Then I catch my grinning reflection and remember: happy looks stupid.

I wonder what our old house looks like. I wonder if Pneumonia black is still sittin' on the pavement smokin cames without filters saving my life with every breath. I wonder what will happen 2 me.