For the woman who's got everything

Dear Marc, are you at a loss for what to give this holiday season? What do you give to the person who's got everything, including depression?

A nice little pill jar, of course!

Found: Christmas

Dear Marc, I found Christmas up in the attic. It wasn't that hard to loose, since our entire supply of Yuletide decorations consists merely of the menagerie above.

Last night as I put Vanja to bed, she looked at me and said solemnly:

"Mom, I've found Jesus."

As a modern day agnostic, I try to handle this heavy news in a responsible way. No reason for alarm. She may be Christian, Buddhist, Muslim or whatever, as long as she's happy. I say "Really, tell me more, honey".

"He was under the pillow the whole time". I'm puzzled by her words. What does she mean? That God is in the details? That he's under the pillow and comes to her in her dreams while she's sleeping?

She unfolds her hand, to reveal little baby Jesus from the creche. If only God was so easy to find in real life. I understand that to some people he is.

Good night, have some important matters to attend to in the bedroom. You may interpret that however you'd like sir.
-e

Creepy Santas

Dear Marc, did you know that before Santa started making it, he was just another guy on a reindeer. It wasn't until he started taming the elfs that he could travel in comfort in a sleigh.

Plain Jane

Dear Marc. did you see that beauooootiful Anne Hathaway is lined up to play Jane Austen? It will be interesting to see the directors mouse her up again, as our beloved Jane was famously plain. It would be so great to see a non-pretty actress get the part, cause with lack of looks, one has to try harder.

I'm going to go out on a limb here and say and say that if Jane Austen would have looked like Anne Hathaway, there would have been no books left for us to read. I bless heaven for Jane's combination of common face and uncommon talent.

As a casting director, I would cast myself ! I have the same tired eyes, the same beak-like nose, the same little mouth trying, but often failing to be nice.

But as a casting director I would try even harder to get Angelina Jolie to play Anna Karenina. That's a movie I want to see. With Reese Witherspoon as Dolly. But should play Vronsky?
Any ideas?

love
-e

In the pages of a magazine, 2

Dear Marc, yesterday, in a fit of curiosity, I bought Vogue Living. It's not representative of my kind of decorating ideal (too well behaved and chintzy), but I wanted to see J Lo's house and take a peek at Marc Anthony's greek antiquities.

Browsing the pages, I came across a section where IMPORTANT PEOPLE shared their favorite net sites. Actress Lou Doillon shops at glaciere.com for oak clad fridges.

"I get so bored with the shape of fridges", sighs Doillon.

I'd love to spend a day with this interesting person!

-How are you today Lou?

-Horrible, but thanks for asking! The toaster is so upsetting! The shape of it!
-It's just a toaster, honey. They look like that.
-Yes, but they don't have to! They bore me! Bring me an oaked toaster! And the stove! It's...mediocre. It irks me. Perhaps with some oak, it would look OK.
-------------

The magazine is worth buying not only because of Lou, but also because Princess Olga of Greece tells you about the world's greatest museums and there's also an amazing picture of writer Joan Juliet Buck. It looks just like a fashion plate, but it's a pic from the writer's early years as a journalist. You can see her adjusting her Ossie Clark dress, standing on her bed in a Paris hotel room. Her 70's version of the laptop - a travel typewriter, is resting on the bed next to a nice tray with tea or coffee, it's a little hard to see. She's the glamorous writer I'll never be, but will always dream of becoming.

-------------
Today is a great day. A is coming back home from London and I'llget to see him for a little while before I'm off to enjoy a traditional JULBORD(Christmas buffet) with friends at Pontus by the Sea.

Lost: Christmas

Dear Marc, I've lost Christmas, have you seen it? I'm serious, I can't find it. I had all our Christmas stuff in a box that got lost in our move to the house.

I'll have to decorate with other stuff. I'll hang my I-can't-afford-Roland-Mouret dress on a hanger in the living room next to my leopard I-kinda-feel-like-Gwen-Stefani-in-this-outfit. I'll put my new boots by the fire as stockings and instead of a creche, I'll arrange all my credit cards in a barnlike manner. I'll dress Joel up as a tree and we'll dance around him.

How are you celebrating the holidays? At home or away?
love
-e

Ps. If you see Christmas, can you tell him to go home? It's not the same without him.

Trains, dames and autobiographies

Dear Marc, I just spent the weekend with my mom, son and 90-year old grandma. Now, you may think this post will not be fashion oriented, but I'm not so sure.

We were to be away for 40 hours. Travelling with a toddler, I brought clothes for Joel and myself in a small plastic bag. I had some magazines, a few diapers, a baby bottle and my business papers in another, equally small bag.

I meet up with mom at the bus stop. We're not taking a cab to the train station, because my mom is a scout at heart, and as a woman raised by a scout, I take the bus too. Mom is bringing 1 suit case and 3 bags for our overnight stay. I'm always curious to find out what she brings. She never lets me down.

This is the greatest difference between our generations. Born in 1945, in a Europe scarred by war, mom is always prepared. There is no greater sin than wasting money or food. I've often asked her if I can throw away left overs right away or if she wants me to put them in the fridge for a few days. She always opts for the latter.

I enjoy travel. I like to try stuff I don't eat at home. But well on the train, mom opens one of her many bags, and it's apparent I will eat like I do at home after all. A loaf of rye bread and a Norwegian goat cheese is brought out into the open. A thermos of hot water welcomes the company of a few Constant comment tea bags. Our meal is delicious, dignified and a tad nuts at the same time.

The frugality of it all is endearing and annoying at the same time. Just like mom.

The train is perfect. There's even a play section in one corner. One of mom's bags contains toys and books that appeal to grandmothers and 19-month old boys.


















This post is getting too long. I'm cutting it short by sharing pics from grannys picture album.






















My grandmother spent a summer in France as a governess in the 30's. I had no idea her protégé was Amelie from Montmartre. Or do all Franch women look like this? I'm afraid they might.


















I know grannys friend is not Dovima, and a horse is not an elephant but I love this picture My new fashion rule is: Always wear long white gowns when feeding the horses!

Back home, I dressed Joel in 30's fashion and he managed to spice the look up with a sequined slipper. Tweed and sequins. The boy is a living tribute to Brideshead Revisited. Tweed and sequins. That just about sums it up. With a few tea bags and Norwegian goat cheese thrown in. That will be the name of my autobiography. Sequins and tea bags.

Am exhausted, must go to bed. Will try to dream about sequinned tea bags. To me a dream, to my frugal girlscout mom a veritable nightmare.

What's your most extravagant necessity? Spill it Marc, we want to hear it all!
love
-e

'Tis the season of dirty santas, part 1

Dear Marc, where do you draw the line between pervert and Santa?
Wherever I look this time of year, I'm met by cheeky Santas.

I see a nice old school pram, but who's inside?

















A cute bébé? Mais non, mon dieu!
C'est un grown old man with flushed cheeks and a portdrinkers nose.

And this guy? Brought out once a year, he's having trouble curbing his enthusiasm.























Ho ho ho, watch out.

Send me your best dirty santas. I don't mean living men. I mean santas created to be a decorative element, but then something goes terribly wrong.

love
-e

Fear of the costume party

Dear Marc, the other day, when I was invited to a costume party and couldn't find my pirate hat (I was so disappointed! I was so set to pin a few dead birds on my shoulder and try eating with a hook for a hand), I ended up going as a glamour mime.

While I wouldn't recommend this look to anyone, I think it's a good thing to dress as your worst nightmare. A way to conquer your fears.

At the costume party, I saw Snow white dancing with astronauts. I saw a box of crayons drinking beer. I saw jockeys hugging surgeons. I witnessed a group of Amish gentlemen getting down. I saw a whale doing the running man. I saw my former boss in the disguised of a sick man.

"What are you?"
"I am Sick"

Trust a former copywriter to dress the part of an adjective.

But the winner that night took the prize (as winners tend to do):
A kitschy fisher man complete with frame, pipe and all.
















I like this flesh colored costume too, though it's from a party I was never even close to.
What's the best costume you ever saw?


love
(I'm miming this as I type)
-e

Postcards from the edge

Dear Marc, I finally bought the boots (see, you can buy them on sale now!). I've never loved a pair of boots like I love these. Feel the love streaming from this end consumer. It's real. So what if it's superficial love, it was funded by superficial deeds. I wrote one article on celebrity tattoos and one about grown ups and toys to pay for my boots.



















It's late November. Winter came, then changed her mind. It's not that cold, but it's very dark. At the office, the daylight lamps were in use to save us from darkness induced depression, so common in this part of the world. I have new boots. Darkness doesn't bother me.


Then I took Vanja to see the dentist.
I swear, even going to the dentist was a joy wearing new boots.

love
-e

Help me understand

Dear Marc, does this imply that the nipple covers (or breast wart covers for those of you who know what I mean) come from abroad? Or that they should not be used outside the home? Domestic polyester. Not to be confused with I'm-out-the-door-polyester.

I also find a comfort in the 5 pair package. For those of us with that kind of udder set up.

























Pert greetings
-your e.

Things Google taught me

Dear Marc, don't you just love Google?

I Google for a picture of smoking women in the 20's. Google wants to help me.
Google thinks I'm searching for female vices and fills me in where I seem to be at a loss. Thus, a search for women + smoking is not enough for my friend Google. She adds mustached men and alcohol to the mix. But she forgot the boots.

What are your vices? The same as mine?
love
-e

Things my grandma taught me

Dear Marc, I know your grandma taught you how to knit. My granny teaches me other things.

Grandma: Emi, you know how people say they've quit smoking?

Me: Sure I do. I believe them.

Grandma: Don't. People never actually quit smoking. They only quit buying their own smokes.

In the pages of a magazine

Dear Marc, writing you has left me with more than 200 silly letters, embarrassment and grief (that last word is only added to create impact). But it has also given me new friends and a bright place in the media spotlight.

I hear I'm in the current (printed) issue of SOMA magazine -THE OBSESSION ISSUE- because of all these letters to you. I haven't seen the issue, but I believe it's true. It seems to be a fine publication.


Love
-e

Ps. If anyone reading this has any notion of how British childcare works, please let me know. It's a jungle out there.

Things my mama taught me, part 1

Dear Marc, it's late in the evening. I'm sitting here, typing invoices while thinking about marriage. Not even my own, non-existant marriage, but my parents.

The other day mom told me "I was only 25 and to promise someone my love for eternity, it just seemed like forever. I told your dad he could have me for ten years, then we'd see. More importantly, I had him promise me he would never utter the words "I told you so" in our shared household".

"That's your most important principle regarding your 35-year old marriage?"

"Yes. What are you doing?".

"I'm taking notes."

What's your best relationship tip?

-e

Yet another Swedish lesson

Dear Marc, are you familiar with the etymology of the name Gyllenhaal?
It's easy for us Swedes. We know it means "The golden hole".
Now we all wonder exactly which hole the name refers to.
Language! Offering new mysteries every day!

Ps. Ok, so maybe there are other explanations as well. But I like the one above best.

Everyone knows but me!

Dear Marc, first of all, you look amazing. You look younger than your man. How did you do it?
Evian, cigarettes and love?

I'll try it too!

You know I've been busy covering the big 5 candles party over here. Tidying up the place, I found one of Vanja's new gifts, a Bratz doll. And as I did, my life crumbled.















Look at her, all barefoot and hippie-happy. But she might not be so peace loving after all. At any moment, she might pull on those boots and powerwalk all over Barbie.

The kid in me had a moment. I tried to put the boots on the doll. Impossible.
You have to remove the feet to put on the footwear. I'm serious.

A million times I've wished for this. That I could simply remove my feet to put on the shoes or boots of my dreams. For this little doll, it was a normal thing. Perhaps this is how life is for everyone else around me too? Do the rest of the female world simply remove their feet? I feel this might very well be true. Why haven't I been let in on this? Why have I suffered in pain, squeezing my too broad feet into exquisite little pieces of footwear?
















This earth shattering insight leaves me with the following question: when will you be making detachable/attachable MJ feet?

After having removed my own, I will need an extra (designer) pair for those lovely beach walks and sleep walks. Please make them long and Italian looking.

love
-e

Note to self - check off from to do list: Write Marc Jacobs a letter on the benefits of removable feet.

Maybe things taste different when you're 5

Dear Marc, mom came over for a cup of tea tonight and Vanja told her all about her breakfast.

"Grandma, today the porridge was soft like wool!"

I'd give anything to try such a soft soft experience.

love
-e

Five candles

Dear Marc, today was a great day. Vanja turned 5.















She got all she wished for and more:

1 big bowl of breakfast porridge
1 glass of juice
2 Barbies
1 big books about cats
1 Madicken book
1 soft set of PJ's
1 cardigan
1 Russian doll, to be painted by anyone 5 yrs or older


Her politically correct mom had promised to bring organic exotic fruit to pre-school to be hid in the forest as a treasure during an outing. However, the pc mom ran out of time, luck and money and made an apple pie instead. The attempt to convince the pre-school teachers to hide the pie in the forest was highly unsuccessful. The pie seemed to have been treasured no less, not a crumb was left.















Then I threw correctness out the window and opted for indulgence. I picked two cakes from this array and went to pick Vanja up from pre-school.





















Meanwhile, she'd been crowned. She's the ruler of my heart and this day, she reigned supreme at pre-school too.















My parents and brother came for dinner. Mom said "Oh no, I'm not wearing make-up. And I'm sure you're going to put me on that world wide web again!". She never wears make up. So I don't know what she was worried about. That world wide web, perhaps.















My brother Björn cut the cake. He's a radio reporter. If you want to listen to him, click here to hear a clip. It features my brother's interviews from NASA, Houston, where he went to find out more about food in space and space toilets. Björn's lovely girlfriend, Frida the judge, couldn't make it to our house. She was in Russia on a research trip.

It was a good b-day. Just like last year's.
When is your birthday?

love
-e

Somebody help me?

Dear Marc, you're a genius when it comes to marketing, so perhaps you can help me. I decided to put ads on this blog. I thought perhaps the sophisticated AdSense system would somehow identify Marc Jacobs-related items. I envisioned this page, filled with attractive MJ-ads.

I didn't do it for the money. Which is good, because so far, I've made only 78 cents from ads. I was flattered to see AdSense matched my blog with gay jewelry. But I want more ads. At other sites, I see the future of web ads. They look delicious, click-enticing.

Or no ads at all? I need help. I need suggestions. I need you.

love
-e

Dear Marc, look what one of our readers sent in.
Thank you Kirsten Thomas!

Is it a tribute to Whitney?

Dear Marc, I love how Eva captures the spirit of the song "I'm every woman". Look how she wears various pieces of clothing, representing every woman and style in the world.
It may not look so great, but it's very fair to all womankind.
And that's what matters!

'Tis the season of ...

Dear Marc, I don't know about you, but winter came round to hit me in the ribs before slapping my hands crazy dry. My hands are so chapped and sad that they've become a topic of conversation in my house. Even worse, my dry hands have ignited fights.

Concerned about their sorry state, A murmured on and on about the benefits of hand lotion while I was working. I was striving to meet a tight deadline and lashed out against him, saying he should love my hands unconditionally and treat them with respect. My hands should never have to listen to the harsh words my beloved was spreading left and right.

A pressed his lips tight and not one more word was spoken on this topic.
Two days later, we were in a taxi, going home from a nice dinner party.
Romance was in the air and A took my hand in his.

Suddenly, a light laughter rose from my right side. It was A.

"Oh Emi, I touched your hand, and it was so hard not to say anything, I had to hold myself back! Your hands were so incredibly dry. But then I realized you were wearing knitted gloves. The relief!".

From now on, sleeping with lotioned hands in mittens.

love
-e

What if I'm looking for the unofficial one?

"This is the officially licensed Wonder Woman Dog costume.". Below, the officially licensed Yoda Dog costume from Star Wars. I love America.

Let it pour

Dear Marc, don't these boots just make you happy. I love them. They're so Magica de Spell-ish!

Who's your daddy?

Dear Marc, how are you? It's Father's day in Sweden. We celebrated by letting the father sleep in, then treat himself to bacon, eggs and tea, while the mother had chocolate cake and coffee and love poems.















I'm about to celebrate my own father too. Here he is, where he belongs, in the kitchen. He cooks for my mom every day, which is good. My mom has her own thinking when it comes to cooking. (and yes, those are trays of mushrooms drying in the book shelf, we're stocking up for the long winter).















We found these delicacies outside my parents house. They had my mom's name written all over them. You never know with her, what's the plan? She keeps life exciting for all of us. I asked dad about mom's bananas. He said "I have no idea. But I won't stop her." To her defense, she makes the best jams and chocolate desserts you've ever had. And she's brilliant.















I don't know what the father of your life wants for his big day. Perhaps a new t-shirt?















Joel's cranky. Got to go.
Love
-e

And the winner is....

Dear Marc, know how I've been telling you about breast warts and other gross Swedish terms? Well, I have kept one of our most unappealing expressions hidden from you. It's an adjective used by many people, most of them don't even think about how disgusting the saying is.

I'm talking about snorhalt. As in "akta dig, det är snorhalt ute". Didn't get that?
Let me translate for you. Swedes of every age, creed and political affiliation say this. "Please take caution. It's slippery like snot outside".

I don't think your distinguished language stoops to such an archaic level.
But ours gladly does. Unfortunately!

love
-e, still writing in English obvious reasons.

Perhaps this is the solution

Dear Marc, know how I always complain about the pain of high heels? How I'm like the little mermaid after she turned in comfort for the benefit of walking the earth with feet instead of fishtail (mermaid tail?)?

Well, now that I've seen Britney post-divorce news, I've seen the light. Perhaps all I need is a small mediterranean guy helping me keep my balance. How small can he possibly be? Isn't Britney practically pony height? And he's shorter. I love short people. Their brains are the same size, but the rest is kept to a minimum. Come help me keep my balance, bite size.

thank you!
love
-e

ps. Perhaps everything is not small. I don't want to step on anyones toes or privates here. Let's leave that to imagination, shall we. Thank you!

Regal fashion

Dear Marc, looking through the fashion plates from one of your recent shows, I came across these lovely ladies. I know they're royalty in the world of fashion, but to me they seemed so familiar for other reasons.

They looked like old friends of mine, QE1 and Michele Arnolfini! Sitting in the frontline of your show. This is what I see when I look at them.



















Their looks are classic and will stand the test of time. I shall steal as much as possible of their regal postures and stern expressions.

Who do they remind you of?

love
-e
who saw ugly betty yesterday. I knew there would come something great out of the devil wears prada!

London/Stockholm 1-0

Dear Marc, I know it makes no difference to you, but it seems I'm moving to London with my family for 6 months. Since I know nothing about this town other than that they have the best Indian and Pakistani food this side of Bombay/Mumbai, I'll treat any information like morsels of gold.

Where is a good place to live with two little kids? Should one opt for the suburbs or cling to the city with all the museums and cafes and stuff? It seems A's office will be located in London SW. This means nothing to me. Perhaps you know?

Finally I will get to try plum pudding for real. With brandy butter. And browse the stores, broke, but in no rush. Oh, the luxury of watching what others will get to wear!

love
-e

ps. Don't you find it peculiar that the Queen wears a watch? Isn't she time herself? Surely everyone waits for her? Surely her assistants could keep track of the time? I like the watch on top of glove look though. Will try it myself, perhaps that's how it's done in London. Also, I just noticed that she's standing in front of a Canadian flag. Can we pretend it's the Union Jack? Thank you!