I'm Wilma. Girl. No dragon tattoo. I love theatre, fashion, music that makes me orgasm and taking pictures. I have split myself between three places (London-Stockholm-Tallinn), but my current hub is Tallinn. Wherever my circus goes, there's always a party. If the party does end, I watch cat videos and blog about it all. Check out my yearly summaries below to get to know me a bit better. Header: Mandel Photography

If you have any questions: hemafruu@gmail.com.

Sunday, January 30, 2011

Tärtü

Do you have that special someone? A person who will be your bridesmaid if you finally manage to get married. A person who is first in line to know when something big, small, interesting, not that interesting, sad or happy happens in your life. A person with who you share the same heartbeat. A person who understands the quality of "Absolutely fabulous" and "Golden Girls".
I do have that special someone. I had not seen him for ages. He was the one at airport who sent me away with tears.
He is tall. He is skinny. His favourite women are Patsy, Meryl Streep, Anne Veski and Kristel:




Years ago one silly decision was made - this handsome gentleman moved to Tartu and became a chemist. Celebrate good times, come on!:



A ja tebjaa ljuubljuu:




AMAZING, SUPERB, MARVELLOUS, HUGE Ikea lamp:




Look at us! Remember us! We are the next big thing in theatre world:




If you care about your looks then, please, do not drink:



Like you see, newly wed pictures are SO this week:




"What the shit!"



Me and my colleagues. SHIT FUCK!:




Money can buy you happiness:




Even in Estonia I must eat beats (I MISS LONDON!):




On Tuesday this loveable boy is moving to London:


Never-ending nights and miserable mornings. Welcome to Tärtü.

Saturday, January 29, 2011

Estononja

I hate that my home is known best
for one shipwreck,
not as famous as Titanic,
But still quite tragic.
My home is not a sinking boat.
We have our problems but we'll cope.
Don't ask me please.
"Your home, where it is?"
So I will give you a little tour
not real adventure, but a little drive-through.
My people have self-absorbed and taciturn manners,
but they are excellent party planners.
They are used to with extremes
like temperature minus 25 degrees.
My home is flat,
the highest peak is that old man's hat.
But life is like elsewhere in Europe.
Oh, you got me there, we got no Topshop.
To drive one end to the other it takes one day,
the booze is cheap, hooray, hooray!
We got a president, but no king.
We're called the singing nation, cos we like to sing.
Sometimes we get together at song festivals,
where we can meet all our million pals.
My home is small, but language differs a bit,
Those who live in the south, I don't understand them a shite.
Come and visit us, everybody has free entry
At my home there doesn't fly fairies and elves.
Those who don't believe , has to come to see themselves.


Yes, I am in Estonia. Viive 46!


First and last decent picture:



Stare him down:



"Tule TAEVAS appi":



Let's have a little drinky before we go-go:



There is always someone who is drinking in the corner:



Levikas a.k.a. Kosmos:



Even photoshop can not do miracles:



Sakker, matter fakker, piinat batter:



Hands up who is meaning to visit their granny tomorrow:


Newly wed:



Start:



Finish:



IMMA chill:



Torres is lovely. Liverpool is SUPERB! Chelsea = wankers:



PÄEV!



Tartu.
Happy B-day LAURA! I salute you.

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Vanity Fair

Harper's , Tatler, English Vogue, American Vogue, French Vogue, Ru-bloody-ssinian Vogue and Vanity Fair were invited to my little house party. I know that there is not enough fashion in the world for all the fashion bloggers. We took it all, with little help from above http://somewhatslightlydazed.tumblr.com/. Look at these bloody bloggers.


slogans like "World Health", "No Pollution", "Fashion Cares" are all right, darling?


For my fab house party I printed up thousands of invitations on green shitty and totally recycled paper. Success face:






First attempt to look back and to be fabulous. Result: almost there, but not quite yet:





Second attempt to look back and to be fabulous. Result: in light like that everything looks bloody gorgeous:




Mission Impossible. She is trying to fly:



From Wilma Circus to the Queen of Castle of Fashion:






Toight as a toiger vs Imma Chill:


Uh-uh-huuuuu:



Good Gosh, I have been eating three hundred pounds worth of royal jelly. Gotta love the UK:




This is SO Vogue...menthol:





MARVELLOUS! HUGE, DYNAMIC, and CHARISMATIC! Superb! Spectacular! SO UNBELIEVABLE, et ei häälda enam välja:




Ain't no mountain high enough. Ain't no valley low enough. Ain't no river wide enough:





Bang!:




My feet are HUGE!:




Hello, you asked my name? It is Henrietta. You can call me Hetty. I grew up in Chelsea and went to an adorable boarding school. I truly do love horses. Look around you, my daddy owns everything you see. I am his little princess:




Well, I was working my ass off to put fire into my eyes and truly smise, but as you see it went down the drain:



The grass is definitely greener on this side but snow is whiter on your side:




"How many teeth do I have? One. Two...":





Wait! You're not from Vogue? From Vice you say? Does that make me a hipster? WHOA!:



Something went wrong with the bowknot:



Decided to go for the magazine-cover-look. It means: a model in heavy make-up with a vacant look on her face...




At church:


Meanwhile on the other side of the room:


I was like...:




...and he was like:




The prostitute and the pimp:




There's not much to say. "The Party":




Sad, collared, only covered with make-up - now I got the essence of fashion:

Also rewarded myself with a little drinky:


I dig him:



The morning after. Rasta girl found her pj's.


When I was a little girl my parent clearly hated me and did not buy me a Furby. Like you can tell the 90's were low point of my life. Now all grown up I found this darling at Charity Shop:

I salute you, who made it so far.
Over and out.
I am good at everything. Listen to our mixtape (best catwalk music).