The Oslo weather is absolutely amazing these days, and it does indeed feel like a decade since the last time we had temperatures above twenty celsius. We are all enjoying it very much (I have even seen Norwegian people actually smiling to strangers), but since I am so out of practice on how to live life in a warm climate, I discovered that I have forgotten a few things since last time.


The wonderful feeling (not to mention sound) of my thighs smacking together as I wear shorts or skirts without pantyhose underneath. Nothing makes me prouder (*smack smack smack smack*).


Every spring I see girls wearing cool rompers, and I enthusiastically run to the first clothes shop I find to get myself one. That’s before I remember that rompers are not made for tall people and that I am in fact the very queen of camel toes romper-wise.

Summer clothes

I must have been totally convinced at some point that I would never need shorts, skirts or summer dresses in Norway again because I am realizing that I have left them all in Madrid. Such pessimism. This is what the long winter does to us.

Me leaving all my summer clothes in my Madrid closet


Yeah, I got stuck in a web the other day, and I was like, what the hell is this stuff? For a moment I had forgotten the concept, and that spiders exist. And that I hate them.

Actual footage of my snaky self


That no matter how much sun I get, I look like I’m made of fine grained marzipan. And on top of that I am allergic to self-tanning cream. That is also the only cream I am allergic to. Born to be white. In a non-white supremacy-way. In a frustrated way, actually.

Me after my killer has dismembered me

Legs and feet

So much damn work with all that shaving and toenail polishing. I guess this is where any feminist would blame the patriarchy, but regardless, I am too ashamed of the bottom part of my body when not groomed, to ever consider going out full cavewoman style. That look is reserved for my husband only, that lucky bastard.

Winter’s legs


Nice weather makes sun-deprived Norwegians reward themselves with stuff as if we have worked hard to earn it. So whenever we (read: I) ask myself if I should really have an ice cream or that extra glass of wine, the answer is always … but of course, the weather is so lovely! All the logic. Cheers!