It was difficult to pack for Sweden in September for two reasons:
1. All I know about Scandanavia is that it is supposed to be bitterly cold and near the Arctic (making it a perfect environment for the Northern lights). However, since it wasn’t freezing in London (also notoriously chilly), how cold could it really be?
2. All my knowledge as to what people wear in Stockholm comes from the blog (wait for it…) Stockholm Street Style, in which everyone seems to be engulfed by black quilts and wearing heels.
Well, as it turns out, I should have brought only black clothes that were quilted. Not only was it super cold, everyone did (as the stereotype goes) look like supermodels. Although when the average person is tall, thin, blond, and wearing exclusively black, this should really come as no surprise. Looking back, when I think of Stockholm Style Blog, it always struck me as a bit darker. Now, I know. Henry Ford and the Swedes get along (you can have it in any color, as long as it’s black). Also, everyone who looked remotely local seemed to be wearing some variation on the Chelsea boot. The moral of the story is: don’t wear tuxedo shoes in Stockholm. Bring boots.
After sorting out the wardrobe, I set out to see the Vasa, Sweden’s very own marine archeological feat, brought to you fresh from 1626. The ship, which originally embarrassingly sank in the Stockholm harbor stands as the world’s only full scale model of a meticulously preserved 17th century ship to date. Taking 10 years just to remove it from the harbor, this ship represents a labor of historical love, and to great avail. When I looked at the Captain’s Quarter’s I couldn’t help but reminisce about old Nemo and his underwater exploits. Though not exactly the same time period, the point is that the Vasa is a marvel of modern preservation methods, and very worth visiting.
After a long museum morning, I headed over to “Salu Hall.” While I don’t have a direct translation, it should be something roughly like “a pantheon of ridiculously good food in a building with a fake steeple.” I ordered some sundried tomato lasagne (it looked too good to resist) and a few pastries. I have to say, Sweden can do some lemon pastries. For whatever reason, you could by them in bulk from the 7-11s on the corner, but they were worth it.
Not lemon, but equally good,
Early morning light over Stockholm
I admit this wasn’t my best pairing, but for what it’s worth:
Jacket: Burberry
Shirt: Estate Sale Find
Pseudo-PJ Pants: H&M
Shoes: Lanvin
Once I finally reached the city, I immediately bought a map and some “toast” which turned out to be none other than a well-timed panini. After planning out the day, I decided I would go to the hostel and drop off my luggage bag. Unfortunately, it was then I realized (bereft of wifi and data) that I had no idea, except for a general direction, where the hostel was. With that, I started walking in the direction of the island area (there are 4 major ones that compose Stockholm) that I thought it was on. The Hostel’s name was “Lodge 52,” so I decided to keep walking until I came to the address numbered “52” (which was much further away than it sounds). My father likes to say “even a blind hog finds an acorn now and then,” while I cannot speak for hogs, I can say I had an incredible stroke of dumb luck, because apartment 52 and Lodge 52 of this random road happened to be the same place.
The Clothesline 