Suburb Cleopatra on the Search for Happiness

Cleopatra, I adore you: Powerful, beautiful and wise.

Follow this amazing woman: I have the haircut and the jewellery. Now I just need a palace.

I am sure Cleopatra would go pink as well nowadays.

Kissed by the sun, kissed by luck?

A queen needs feathers (best if they come in the shape of a lovely bag).

You might be blinded by the sun, I am blinded by thinking of Egyptian gold.

Even the crocodiles are subjected to the mighty woman from the Nile, I bet.

The Egyptians used to have pictures of their enemies on their soles. I don't but rather wear my pretty Melissa shoes.

Oh girl, the world will look different today, so don't you worry!

Why does my body keep me from flying? I don't know.

Warning, this is no happy post. It was Fashion Week in London and Sara was not there, what a tragedy! I caught myself haunting the Instagram accounts of all the luckier people and got depressed and jealous. Then I was ashamed of my nasty feelings, just wanted to hide in my pyjamas and eat a whole bar of chocolate.

Forget about the modern world where it doesn't matter where you are because of the internet. It's just nonsense and nearly impossible to be part of the world I feel I belong to while being far away. I feel like a cheated lover when I see my favourite brands collaborate with others while my mailbox is empty. Oh wait, there are invitation emails coming in. Ah yes, Oktoberfest, the release of the ugliest shoes I have ever seen (maybe made for attending a desert expedition) and parties with (so-called) Swiss celebrities I never heard of before. Delete messages. Ok, empty mailbox again. Where are the good news? Cinderella is waiting for an invitation to the ball!

I am starting to doubt everything. What am I doing here? Am I not good enough? I take unlikes personal and I'm very self-critical. People tell me that I've come far with my blog, I just see competitors miles ahead of me. I've always been the girl that wanted more and there are times when it's almost eating me up.

As a teenager, I often felt in the wrong body and saw it as a cage that limited me. I questioned everything and didn't just take things as they were. Although those emotions calmed down a little bit during the years, I still don't take things for granted. What keeps me from flying? Am I not likeable enough, too old, too fat, not pretty enough, not intelligent, funny, happy, cute, determined, whatever enough? Do I overestimate myself? Why am I not happy to be just one in a million of unremarkable people? A lot of questions and no answers, I feel like sleeping.

Tomorrow I want to find back to optimism and start to believe that the world will be mine one day, I'll go upright and proud, just like Cleopatra.

My Outfit: