AURA, photo: Dress Me Guide Me
The vintage and 2nd hand scene in Berlin is a very diverse world covering some rare vintage from golden times, contemporary high end brands as well as thrift stores where you can buy per kilo. The criteria which makes the difference between all those types is the selection of garments itself. While vintage is the label for clothes that were distinctive to a specific era that’s at least 10-15 years in the past, 2nd hand generally just describes clothes that have been worn by someone before. This could be anything ranging from 2000er high street pieces or last season’s designer stuff. Especially vintage stores pride themselves with the originality of their selection of pieces, that are mostly stand-outs, clean and in good condition. Just like well-curated 2nd hand shops they are usually done with a lot of love and passion, therefore vintage is usually more expensive than your average 2nd hand or thrift store.
Regardless of your personal preference, whether you buy 2nd hand or vintage as a political statement, to get trendy or luxurious brands for cheap or because you are searching for the pearl in a pile of random stuff to get that triumphant feeling of a precious discovery – Berlin’s got you covered!
Our guest contributor Emilie from Dress Me Guide Me selected some of the most awesome shops for you!
photo: Eylül Aslan
I don’t believe in airing my dirty laundry in public. I know how unconvincing that sounds coming from someone who writes a dating column that heavily features her private life, (shut up! You know you love it) but after having the issue resurface several times over several months, I do have to give the issue of social media hygiene a personal treatment.
Sometimes I wish Facebook had a “your ex is not going to this event” feature. Or better yet, there should be a feature that lets you confirm events and then the designated persona non grata would be unable to confirm, or even see, the event.
artwork: Eugenia Loli / CC*
“Men are all the same, just pick the richest one” seems like a solid framework for the jaded urbanite interested in dating men. I’m not classist, I went out with starving artists left and right, but sometimes a girl needs more than hard dick/clit and Späti beer.
I have toyed with the idea of dating someone with a thick bank account and a thin thread of life after an ex-partner suggested that “the lifestyle would suit” me. And of course I’d love to be the “personal assistant” and bed warmer for Gloria Swanson’s Norma Desmond, but my chances of ending up with some Berlin (read: far less wealthy) version of J. Howard Marshall are much better.
“So, how did you two meet?” I hear myself ask.
15 years ago the Berlin duo Stereo Total sang about threesomes and here I was, the summer of 2015, meeting another couple for what feels like a therapy session but is really a vetting meeting for a possible threesome. How did I end up with yet another “straight” couple that is queering up their existence with a shared Tinder profile, my dear reader? The answer is simple: Because I’m an excellent middle ground for any couple. I’m cute enough to not be intimidating yet hot enough to provoke desire. I’m running an unregistered non-profit. Headquarters? My pants.
artwork: Eugenia Loli / CC
Since I started dating I’ve always gone international. There are only a few European countries I haven’t planted my metaphorical flag (yes, this is a dick joke about my metaphorically huge dick). There is only one country whose men (and only men) I try to avoid: Germany. “Why? What have German men ever done to deserve this?” I hear you say, my dear reader. Well, I’m glad you asked…
photo: Rowena Waack / CC
My name is Alix Berber. I’m a girl. I’m in my twenties. I’m bisexual. And my plan is to find Mr. or Mrs. Right(-ish). I’m here to take you on a journey, my dear reader. It will probably be a disastrous (and hopefully entertaining) ride, fueled by bad decisions, online-dating and all the madness that Berlin has to offer.
We all know that one couple that has been a solid, loving fixture on the canvas that is your social circle in Berlin. They’re not crazy in love (well, not anymore) but they stand on a solid platform of mutual affection and comfort. Look at them, marvel in their happy-ish-ness.
They’ll break up – that I promise you.
artwork: Eugenia Loli / CC
As winter is slowly pulling its icy blanket off of Berlin and spring is upon us, people emerge from hibernation, ready to sow their wild oats. In the wake of weeks of hormonal frolicking I decided to equip you, my dear reader, with a guide on how to briefly enjoy the perks of human company without the backlash of commitment or post-coital crying.
photos: Malte Brandenburg
What to do when you miss your hometown? Right – you just take it with you, piece by piece!
I always liked Berlin’s post-war buildings, the so-called “Plattenbau”. I spent my fair share in and around them as a kid when playing with my friends who lived there. I think they are a very interesting part of Berlin – they hold a lot of history, the foundation of what makes Berlin a very special place. And I am happy to see that the city is able to re-create itself, that these buildings might be ugly, but people have started to like them again.
With my photo series “Stacked” I simply wanted to be able to see these buildings next to each other, see how similar they are and how nice they look on a bright and sunny day. And by isolating them, I wanted to touch upon this particular concept of urban life, vertical density instead of horizontal density, and how society around these buildings evolves.
You know it’s probably bad for you. Some things so consuming just are. Berlin is a city that gets under your skin, making it hard to imagine leaving. Perhaps it is the intensity that you fear you will find in no other place, at no other stage in your life.
It’s the highs, the transient moments on rooftops, the unexpected displays of colorful allurement that forbid you from leaving even when it feels like Berlin has shown you no empathy for so long. But it knows how sweet you find a bit of snow kissing your forehead, so it surprises you just enough to endure through its cold, grey behavior. Those gestures you hold onto through winters, even the winters in summer, whenever – it’s not up to you. As brilliant as you are, when you are out of its sight, you are out of its mind.
photos: Ania Banaszek
During my first walk outside after Christmas I noticed a beautiful, big, perfectly shaped Christmas tree just lying around on the sidewalk. Thrown away one day after Christmas. One day! I thought that’s a pretty tough timing. Maybe it was due to my post-Christmas melancholy or the winterish lack of sun (or both) but I could not help thinking how sad and absurd it looks like. During the next days I noticed how the streets and sidewalks of Berlin got flooded by the suddenly homeless Christmas trees of all kinds: big, small, still ‘fluffy’ or completely abandoned of needles. Something I’ve never seen with such a density anywhere outside of Berlin. And something I found a great metaphor of Winter time melancholy. So I took a camera out and off I went, to photograph this (for me) typical Berlin curiosity.