Stockholm Costume & Fashion Institute (SCFI) occupies the Erskine house in the Swedish meatpacking district (Hallvägen 21, Johanneshov). Unlike New York’s trendy meatpacking district, the Swedish one has stayed true to its roots and continues to function as just that, with the exception of SCFI’s temporary entrance onto the scene.
Box 9: Vikinga-romantik. Handbag Thierry no. 1 by Aia Jüdes, 2013.
Their current exhibition Kostym kontra mode, Svenska pärlor från scen till catwalk (January 21 – April 30, 2017), which translates roughly to costume in contrast to fashion, Swedish gems from the stage to the catwalk, covers Swedish 20th century costume from theater and film posed against contemporary Swedish fashion. Here’s a peek inside…
Beckmans Box, The Francis Rose Hasenkamp Collection by Klara Modigh.
Box 5: Kläder som skulptur (Clothes as sculpture)
Box 7: För stor för Sverige? (Too big for Sweden?)
Views from the window reveal the Globe arena and Tele2 arena in the distance.
I’m back in Stockholm, where reality and mundane everyday life keeps me busy. Now enjoying the beautiful Swedish sunset by the water with the Royal Palace and Gamla Stan (the Old Town) seen in the distance.
It’s now my second winter in Stockholm and I still haven’t found my bearing when it comes to icy, slippery, hellish sidewalks. The result being that I look like a less excited and less cute version of Bambi on ice. So, this means spending copious amounts of time indoors meaning that I officially finished my master’s thesis a few weeks back and before that curated an exhibition featuring a cutting-edge Japanese architecture firm. Whew!
Ah, if only the city could evenly zamboni the ice to resurface it smoothly, then I would probably opt for the relief of popping on my ice skates and gliding around more gracefully.
Winter is still on, but sadly the delicious saffron buns that make it slightly more bearable have come and gone. #roughlife
Fortunately I took these pictures of the delicious saffron buns at Fabrique before they vanished until next year. That way I can salivate all over my keyboards indulging in the sweet tasty memory, while absence makes the heart grow fonder.