February 16, 2011

White Tiger C

With White Tiger C I am taking some liberties with the definition of a white tiger. Actually quite some big liberties considering that White Tiger C is not striped, more grey/white than black/white and is in fact not even a tiger. But since I get to decide on content here, he is on my list and in fact leading it. Meet Julian!
He won’t complain much about being called a white tiger here. He is used to much worse name calling i.e. juli-poo or stink bear as our favourites. He is both, but also cute as a button.
I do frequently entertain Jakob and these days Ike with stories about ‘little baby Julian’ and they love it/him both. Their favourites are by far How little baby Julian jumped on the pizza and we still ate it and How little baby Julian pushed the dates wrapped in bacon off the table and we still ate them. I think we were just a hungry bunch.  Therefore none of us understood why people would refuse to eat rice at our home after seeing this picture:
I look at him and want to eat him too!

Forgive me Father.

For I have sinned. And Mark. For it wasn't with you. I was on a motorcycle last night for the first time in my life. Whoop whoop. So much fun to feel the wind on my face. And best of all - no helmet hair!*

*At least up to my knowledge and the driver didn't complain...

February 14, 2011

happy v day.

It appears to be that one has no choice, but somehow wish the entire world happy v day today. I am personally not a huge fan of the celebration, but if I am very honest it might just be because there is no one here to send me chocolates and roses. So my ill attempt to deal with it, is being sarcastic about everything pink or red or heartshaped and thinking I would ditch any man giving me a pink, heartprinted fleece blanket today (as men do according to Woolies). I know I know...as I said it's an ill attempt of conceiling the envy deep inside of me.

I am secretly quite happy that one friend had send me a happy v day email at 00h14 last night and another promised to have chocolate truffles shipped from his favourite confisserie shop in a small town in the alps. Not that I think these chocolates will ever make it here, but it's nice to dream...

So here you go - for all single and/or sarcastic non-valentine's followers, something to make you smile. I am proud to present Cupid!

Halloween a few years back in New York. Curling my hair like that took about two hours, making 15 gold and 15 lead arrows another two...but I think it was worth it - at least I always have a laugh when I look at myself in this picture!

White Tiger B


Two years later I was fortunate enough to meet and shake paws with the bracelet’s live counterpart. Minus one head of course. I was working on a campaign for a Korean department store at the time, which was being shot in New York. Some clever ad people thought it a stroke of genius to have model clad in Prada sit on an antique chaise lounge, surrounded by three peacocks - alive - and a white tiger - alive. They only know why ... But regardless of the absurdity of it all, we enjoyed ourselves thoroughly as we all considered meeting a white tiger kind of special.
And special she was. Her name was Crystal, she was from Ohio and really just a cute small town toddler (because that’s what three year old tigers apparently are – toddlers). She was quite beautiful though and looked friendly enough. I wanted nothing more than to stroke her and see if she would start purring like our little Julian at home. No such luck at first. I wasn’t allowed to touch her. Not for security reasons as in ‘do not touch tiger, tiger might bite and you might lose your hand’, but because of a NY state law. Don’t ask why, but if you ever want to touch a tiger you have to take him or her over to New Jersey. Unfortunately Crystal wasn’t in the mood to see the garden state and take a trip across the Hudson with me.
1. mmh 2. mmmh 3. mmmmh 4. stroll on the deck with favourite chew toy 5. cheeze!

Eventually though her caretaker gave in. The long wait and all of our begging and pleating had worn him out. We were allowed to come closer and pose for pictures with her. Once next to her one thing led to another...
1. almost touching 2. friends 3. in deep conversation 4. touch down! 5. model, antique chaise lounge and crystal

After our little session, it was time for her big shoot. The model didn’t blink an eye as Crystal was walked onto set and propped up on the chaise lounge next to her. Poor tiger toddler didn’t take it so well though. Her equivalent of peeing in your pants was to pee on the antique chaise lounge. The prop department fainted slightly.
The fun and excitement didn’t stop there. After a few more attempts of getting her to sit still, look left and then right, Crystal had enough. A bit of up-roar was in order. ‘Roooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrr’ she shouted and stood up on her hind legs. It was almost a slow motion movement as she reached up with her right paw and smashed the antique chandelier, which was conveniently dangling within reach above the chaise lounge. Crystal met crystal and Crystal won. The prop department was beyond fainting this time. Frantic calls to check insurance values were made instead and a few hasty sips from the hipflask taken.
 I am not actually sure if the latter is true, but I would have done that, say if the tiger had peed on the Prada turban instead.
In the end it all worked out of course. Beautiful pictures were taken and we finished our day with a beer over sunset outside. Crystal had found a new favourite look-out spot in the meanwhile. High above on top of the stairs, leading to an upstairs office, she lay, watching us with sleepy eyes and a satisfied little smile – she knew the fashion industry was fickle, but she also knew that we would always remember the day with her.

February 12, 2011

White Tiger A

White Tiger A was a bracelet I wore and didn’t take off for about a year back in New York. It was a beautiful and only tiny bit cheesy gold and enamel bracelet with two white tiger heads connecting one white tiger body. It added a bit of glitz and glamour to my usual minimalistic Helmut Lang-esque wardrobe.

Unfortunately my memory and this picture, which isn’t doing it justice (and yes I know, Julian’s paw is covering half of it anyhow), is the only thing left of it. It had a sort of snap mechanism to close and after a year of banging on tables/door frames/people it didn’t snap anymore. I did make an attempt to have it repaired but to no avail. It’s gone. I still miss it at times. We were good friends, the white tiger bracelet and I.
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