Sweet Child O'Mine

(Funny, just added note: as I was thinking how to name this post, Guns N’roses Sweet child o’mine started playing. Ha, subliminal messaging?)

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When I grow up, I want a house just like that.
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(River Island pants, vintage YSL sweater, Zara booties and bag, no name necklaces, H&M rings) 

EN: So this past week, my little brother came to visit me (at my new home) in Bucharest. I had a completely busy but fun weekend indulging in a) too much junk food, b) too many late nights c) too much shopping, all topped off with too much running around town (imagine, even the kid made fun of me for getting old). You too Brutus? 
Anyway, one day I took him to an amusement park, a small one but so crowded and busy! And I hate crowded places, you know that. My brother obviously wanted to ride all the roller coasters, so he went on most of the rides while I was taking photos (I had to document the whole thing for my very pesky mother) and acting like a 12 year old when I went with him on a bumber car ride. I was screaming but I liked it, made me feel like a kid again 🙂 
Clothes wise, I reached for my faithful vintage cashmere YSL swater yet again that day. I really need to start searching for another one soon (a cashmere sweater, that is, as I don’t think I’ll ever thrift another YSL again). That crimson, burgundy shade is one of my favorite colors for colder months, and paired with my red wide legged River Island pants, this look has kept me comfortable and chic whilst walking for hours and hours.

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Also, meet the Balabans. Hi mom and dad. 


RO: Să-nnebunesc de n-am fost în orăşel. La trenuleţe, căluşei, la vată de zahăr şi gogoşi. Weekend ul trecut a venit frate miu pe aici şi dacă tot am avut 2 zile la dispoziţie (în care m-a alergat dar şi pozat, ca un frate şunculos şi bun ce e), ne-am plimbat în lung şi-n lat, inclusiv în Orăşelul copiilor = coţomedii reloaded. Fiind sfârşit de săptămână şi frumos afară, era un chiloman de nedescris acolo, foarte aglomerat şi gălăgios. Adică fix cum nu-mi place mie. Unde mai pui că nu s-a lăsat până nu m-a urcat în maşinuţe buşitoare (de zbieram că o disperată grase mai încet că fac infarct, vrei să moară tanti Miţa?) şi că odată plecaţi de acolo, m-a alergat IAR prin toate magazinele cu telefoane, să se uite după iphone 5 nu ştiu ce. Adevărul e că-i trebuie. La 13 ani fără iphone…viaţa e naşpa. Râde copiii de el. Şi eu aveam iphone când eram clasa a7a. Da, da. Aveam. Era mic şi gri, avea ecran portocaliu, scria Siemens pe el şi mă jucam râma. 
Bo$$.

 

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