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.

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Ingmar's birthday. Wonderland inside an apartment.

August (including 31.july) is one tough month, then a lot of important and lovely people have their birthdays. Nine months before it is Christmas...all the lights and romance has affected their parents, if you know what I mean. Love. Love. Love. 

Ingmar is one of them.
 He passionately loves his friends, giving so much, even on his own birthday. Not relaxing, just full throttle onwards. Sick, how high has he raised the true party quality. Mind blown. Let him live forever, I say! 

Ingmar, may you never run out of champagne:

The theme of the party was your favourite era or nowadays. 
I picked a black dress, since it is bloody timeless. :

The view that opened up once I walked into Ingmar's apartment made me speechless. 
Balloons, trimmings, feathers, beautiful people: 

Karl ajab tüdrukute pead sassi.
My head was spinning around:

Let me just say that Laura Lisete KILLED IT that night. Absolutely beautiful woman walked in and my jaw dropped on the floor, so I stepped on it. 

A little waffle you need, before liquid dinner:

 (I am so checking Karl out here):

Exactly at midnight we went outside and sang to Ingmar. As he just had thrown out one bed from his apartment we put Ingmar on it and lifted it x+1 times. Little note here, the 80th birthdays is going to be a killer, our hands will fall off. Anyways then Ingmar disappeared, leaving a note behind. Mission "Where's birthday boy" took us on the rooftops and on the streets. Despite the danger, we managed to survive. Eventually we also found Ingmar. Happy end.

Kät from London/Paris/*insert some big city name here* was visiting Estonia. Of course we had to drag our intoxicated asses up on the roof, next to SEB main building.

The broken bed and us trying to Vogue. Never mind that Kät just hurt herself and blood was everywhere. Drunk mind does not understand nor notice.

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