We've just finished a fantastic piece of literature about life as a young lady in Stockholm, written in 1908. Supposing that the young men looked as dashing as this, when Elin Wägner composed Norrtullsligan, we'd gladly be up for some time travelling.

Jag vet inte vilka män och andra olyckor, som väntar mig här i Stockholm, men det kan jag på åtminstone på empirisk väg räkna ut, att där jag är, där församla sig ännu några år framåt alltid ---

Mitt hjärta ropade helt omotiverat på någon, som jag aldrig tänker på, men som jag en gång hoppades jag skulle få ha barnbarn med. /.../

Det var inte mycket religion i vår jul, men där fanns rätt mycket rörande vänskap och en smula osjälvisk uppoffring och ävenledes ett visst hjältemod, ty alla voro glada, fast ingen var gift. /.../

Det var en sådan kväll då, herrarna som möter en, inte äns gitter räkna ut ens figur, och då även de bästa av oss omedvetet måste längta efter en bil och en älskare. Emedan jag icke är av de bästa, gjorde jag de medvetet.
Och det betänkliga var, att jag sade mig själv: det är det enklaste i världen för dig att skaffa bägge delarna.
Bara ---

Okay, so most people look better in our book when sporting a beard, and possibly glasses, knowing how to play an instrument and standing on a street in Soho. Still, if you really want to make it, we do suggest a little bit of trimming.

Because you sort of look like the DJ we brought home last weekend, with whom we drank tea, ate cookies and made out with to a soundtrack of 90's hiphop. And because there is no such thing as too many dark, bearded beauties.

Sometime girls are dicks, sometimes boys are dicks and sometimes even we realize that you can do all the things in your power to try to get someone's attention, and still fail.
Which sucks, for sure, but what counts here is still that old saying; if you have never failed, you probably have not been doing a lot of interesting things.

Grattis på födelsedagen, Xxxxxxx! Jag kan inte tänka mig annat än att du bara blir stiligare, och visare, för varje år som går :-) Hoppas att livet är underbart och att du har en fin dag, på samma sätt som du förgyller så många andras dagar. Stor kram, Xxxx

Stort tack för dem vänliga orden, sanna eller ej.. Ha det gott.

Klart att det är sanning! Du gör världen så himla mycket snyggare och när jag tänker på dig blir jag glad. Och när jag är glad blir, per automatik, åtminstone två tredjedelar av alla som korsar min väg också glada, och jag träffar ganska mycket folk. Alltså gör du universum bättre varje dag enbart genom din existens. Hipp hipp hurra för det!

Mixing business with babes is a new concept of ours in which we strive to combine careering and pleasure, without neccessarily becoming prostitutes. This morning we went to a breakfast gathering with business maven Michael Treschow. He was so calm and handsome that we fell a little bit in love with him, certainly a good rating for a seminar on how to create a problem-solving and open atmosphere in the boardroom.

As usual when we listen to entrepreneurs, we hear a lot of things that relate to romance; "Never try to be tactical. Be open-minded and show who you are", "Always go for the best you can find, in any situation", "Don't shy away", "Hire [date] people who are smarter than you. It is fun to be challenged", and our all-time favourite; "One plus one always need to be substantially more than two."

Because, besides the mathematical lesson from Mr. Treschow, the second most important information of the day comes from our Reiki handbook. And that is, that the only real task in life is to develop unconditional love. For yourself as well as others.

Because, as Albert Camus writes in The Plague;

"... a loveless world is a dead world, and always there comes an hour when one is weary of prisons, of one's work, and of devotion to duty, and all one craves for is a loved face, the warmth and wonder of a loving heart."

Yesterday, we started questioning this decision of ours to swap quantity for quality. That wise and respectable choice was made before we re-realized that we're in Stockholm and still absolutely clueless as to how people become boyfriends and girlfriends in this town. It is, of course, nicer to eat at Nobu everyday instead of McDonald's. But McDonald's must surely be better than no food at all.

Our skylift-riding friend then said; "Yes, but you don't feel so good after eating at Mickey D. What I really want is someone to sleep with, but who doesn't want to hang out all the time." We agree, but it also depends on how hungry and bored you are. And we like hanging out a lot.

Another fast food-reference comes from last weekend when our doctor pal said that walking home from a night out ain't too bad with a cheeseburger in each hand and one in the pocket of his coat. Our respons to that was; when walking home, we would rather have one man by the hand than two cheeseburgers in our pocket.

Sometimes we feel as if newspapers are just full of BS, and that's why it is delightful to actually learn something useful while reading them. This time it came down to the simplicity of choosing your partner, and inspired by the couple featured in Dagens Nyheter, we now know that you should go for a man that is utterly attractive, very funny and who loves you.

Trots bråk ibland är kärleken mellan Erik och Martina på många sätt starkare nu än i början av deras förhållande. Erik tycker att Martina är generös som låter honom hållas med sina jakthundar och Martina tycker fortfarande att Erik är den roligaste och snyggaste hon vet.

– Ja, Erik är väldigt, väldigt snygg. Ibland när han pratar hör jag inte vad han säger bara för att jag står och tänker på att han är så snygg.

Because what we really like are dudes who are comfortable in colors other than black, navy blue and beige, who possess the virtues of being humble and grateful and for whom lounging in a horisontal position comes naturally. Or to quote the large-mouthed poet Steven Tyler; "All I want is someone I can't resist, I know all I need to know by the way that I got kissed."

The Modern Love column is one of the few places where the art of broken-heartedness, and love in all its forms, is given proper space, at least once a week, in the respectable newspaper of New York. We would like to write there one day, too. It just seems like something romantic has to happen first.

By midnight, we’d already spent an hour canoodling in the dark corner of a salsa bar, and another hour rolling around half-naked on his building’s roof, Metro-North trains rumbling a few blocks away. I had no idea if I’d ever see him again, and inhaled every minute of the most uninhibited fun I’d had in years.

When we finally reached his apartment, I realized what I’d missed by marrying at 23. His bedroom was one of those only-in-New-York creations carved out of the living room — no windows, walls that didn’t reach the ceiling. Looking for a safe space to lay my pearl necklace and earrings, I knew I was a long way from my former five-bedroom colonial in the suburbs./.../

I worried that maybe I shouldn’t be playing this game with a heart that would never quite heal. But this I now know: People we love come, and they frequently go. What matters is staying open: to possibility, to connection, to hope.

Photos: the lovely Jenny Mörtsell and Sozi

Because, after all, recieving double honors from the You Look Great Society is an accomplishment worthy of praise, regardless of cleptomanic tendencies and a somewhat confused demeanor.

Valentine's Day is coming up and we are compiling a long list of boys who ought to recieve letters of admiration. But V-day is also about the wonderful non-romantic loves of your life who are out there. The girls who find a million treasures on the internet while staying indoors, who incorporate dreams in reality when going outside and who knows that 2011 is all about slow romance, or slomance as we like to call it.

Ladies also seem to have a thing for advice that men lack, and one of the more thoughtful consultation comes from the Dear Sugar, The Rumpus Advice column;

Dear Seeking Wisdom,

You are not a terrible person for wanting to break up with someone you love. You don’t need a reason to leave. Wanting to leave is enough. Leaving doesn’t mean you’re incapable of real love or that you’ll never love anyone else again. It doesn’t mean you’re morally bankrupt or psychologically demented or a nymphomaniac. It means you wish to change the terms of one particular relationship. That’s all. Be brave enough to break your own heart. /.../

Don’t lament so much about how your career is going to turn out. You don’t have a career. You have a life. Do the work. Keep the faith. Be true blue.

You cannot convince people to love you. This is an absolute rule. No one will ever give you love because you want him or her to give it. Real love moves freely in both directions. Don’t waste your time on anything else. /.../

When you meet a man in the doorway of a Mexican restaurant who later kisses you while explaining that this kiss doesn’t “mean anything” because, much as he likes you, he is not interested in having a relationship with you or anyone right now, just laugh and kiss him back. Your daughter will have his sense of humor. Your son will have his eyes. /.../

Yours,
Sugar

Recently, we're becoming more and more convinced about what the meaning of life is. First and foremost it is all about being. Not being x, y, z. But just being grateful to be alive.
Secondly, it is our firm belief that you ought to love and be kind to all, to create a security that allows people to blossom to their full potential instead of buying a lot of crap, for money they don't have, to impress people they don't care about.
Quite simple, really.

Because Blue Valentine seems to be the movie of the year for die hard romantics, and if more guys possessed just a teaspoon of the Gosling-charm we would be even less likely to end up facing the "kharmageddon". A word the creator describes as; "It's like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's, like a serious bummer."

There is a bit of cocktail chatter on the merging of science and spirituality these days. It is possible that this relates to the fact that we are moving closer to the 2012 portal , or it could also be a simple misconception, with the actual meaning being the merge of sub-cultures and spirituality. Our friends over at Hipster or Jesus has started a thorough research project, mapping out the modern Messiahs. And although we are all God's children, some of us simply look better in beards.

Because;
a) we love the refreshing realism-pessimism that Parisians master,
b) you can spend a day at an Indian market, overflowing with silk, gold, spices, trash and stuff made of dreams, yet come to the conclusion; "Actually, I did not see anything that I really liked" and
c) when you say; "I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about", we know that we are on to something.

It's the irony of returning to Sweden and all of a sudden be robbed of the constant flow of warmth and love that the rest of our global family (the world) so effortlessly provides, that makes us lovebomb handsome strangers in cyber space instead.

In India we were struck by the revelation that reiki healing ought to be a suitable career. It's simply about channeling the life force energy and transmitting it to others. You can do distant healing aswell, all you need is a picture. So, in a sense that is what we've been doing the entire time.

Because nothing warms frozen bones as Brooklyn bars in wintertime.

A woman called us today from The Model Factory. "Aha, building bricks and handicrafts" we thought. She went on to say they had a photo studio that we could try out for free. "Hmm, wonder if I have any undeveloped rolls of film", our mind continued. She then said they would treat us to professional make-up sessions, we could bring pets and children, not to mention choose from three different backgrounds. "Aha, a model factory." Not as in models that you build and encourage creativity, but in models that are simply nice to look at.

Because we're speechless.

And even though it's great to be born in the early eighties, it would have been awesome to be a bit older at the time and hang out with men like these. Men with strong arms, tanned legs, wind in hair, hearts and minds, made of the same material as dreams.
Baby, sailboat and evening sun included.

Because surfer boys are like sea shells; pretty, salty and sprinkled across the shores. But instead of holding them to our ears we hear waves crashing simply by looking into their eyes.

Last New Year, our resolution was to learn how to seduce men. That is clearly an art that takes something more like a lifetime than 300+ days to master, but with a Key Performance Index of number of new male acquaintances, we can look back at 2010 with a slight blush, a big smile and report back to our shareholders of a highly successful year for easy lovers.

That said, for the new year two of our themes are Simplicity and Quality. The first one does not mean the easy way, but rather the straighforward, självklara, natural way. Things are complex, not complicated. And one of the best ways to succeed is to KISS; Keep It Simple, Stupid.

Concerning Quality, it's what we should always strive for; in the work we do, how we live our lives, how we choose to spend these blessed days. Above all, it's about quality over quantity when it comes to men. Quality meaning romance, boyfriends and deep, burning desire. It's a realization that it is rather nice to long for things, to move away from instant satisfaction and enjoy the wait for something brilliant. And taking even greater pleasure in it when it finally appears.

Warm hearted girls are back! And so are good times, although good times are always in our minds. Let's just say like Karen von Blixen and her husband in Out of Africa;
He - That was some kiss Good-bye.
She - I'm even better at Hello.

Please excuse any inconvenience caused by lack of updates. We are touring sub-Saharan Africa and do not stumble into as many bearded men as one would like.

Because you look like a magestic creature which we dream of rolling "over together in a happy laughing heap of fur and arms and legs" and that it can be either "like playing with a thunderstorm or playing with a kitten...". Reading The Chronicles of Narnia while rain is pouring down we get more and more convince that fantastic men, or simply the feeling of passion, are pretty much like Aslan the lion.

At the name of Aslan each one of the children felt something jump in its inside. Edmund felt a sensation of mysterious horror. Peter felt suddenly brave and adventurous. Susan felt as if some delicious smell or some delightful strain of music had just floated by her. And Lucy got the feeling you have when you wake up in the morning and realize that it is the beginning of the holidays or the beginning of summer.
/.../

His voice was deep and rich and somehow tooke the fidgets out of them. They now felt glad and quiet and it didn't seem awkward to them to stand and say nothing.

Excerpts from The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe by C. S. Lewis. Photo by Sandra Beijer

Because we love an unshaved man in bright sunlight.

Reading the September issue of Scottish GLAMOUR, we find amusing, very real life oriented excerpts from mis-communication between the sexes;

From him
Subject: Last night
Great night. That gold dress is so sexy. Can't stop thinking about you.

From her
Subject: Re:Last night
You and I went out last week. I wore trousers.
-----

Her What an amazing night - thanks sooooo much. I've been waiting my whole life to meet someone like you. When are we next going out, handsome?

Him Was great, will get my PA to pencil in next free eve I have.
-----

You are so sexy, sometimes I think I never want to sleep with anyone else ever again.

In the Swazi Observer, we read that the King has "noted that Swaziland was blessed because the economic melt-down has not dampened the spirit of the people of Eswati. He said prayer was the solution to the prevailing economic situation."

At first, this seemed like unusual approach to dealing with things. But further reading the South African Sunday Times we got the suggestion to; "Benefit from the "law of attraction". This is the idea that out thoughts influence our reality. Bearing it in mind can help increase the chances of success."

In other words, a great way to solve a crisis by having the whole population think and reflect over it, rather than a finance minister pushing a button or two. Hence, there ought to be no better way to find the men of your dreams than thinking about boys constantly.

Because the previous Nobel laureate in Economics take pleasure in playing with words such as; "Efforts to negotiate a resolution to Europe's banana split proved fruitless". And we love both deserts and negotiations, which all sound like wonderful activities to enjoy in the company of pretty boys like you.

Well, because it is knowing that guys like you lurk around Barcelona that make us find some proper internet connection in Mozambique.

Because you look like a distant cousin to our latest crush, the handsome revolutionary, who sautees shrimp in cilantro, does his homework, speak Portugese, thinks he is Che Guevara, pushes all the right bottons in our political disagreements and still manages to makes our knees weak even while the socialist manifests hurts our ears. And it was quite a while since we last felt how terrible attractive it can be to not get along.

We were watching Lord of War last night, and a few more memorable lines of romantic character, ringing especially true, were; "You can't force someone to fall in love with you.
But you can definitely improve your chances".

In the case of Nicholas Cage he pretty much buys the whole island of St. Barths. We suggest a a somewhat cheaper alternative; grow a beard, enjoy hanging out with kids, ride a horse and live like a gentleman in the English countryside.

Burton, the great seducer, appeared to ignore her at first, then he edged over to her and said fatuously, "Has anybody ever told you that you're a very pretty girl?"As recounted in her 1965 memoir, Elizabeth Taylor, she couldn't believe the lameness of that gambit. "Here's the great lover, the great wit, the great intellectual of Wales, and he comes out with a line like that.

Having discovered one of the great love affairs of the past century in a lay around number of Vanity Fair, we are even more convinced of the catastrophe that faces mankind if the art of writing love letters should become extinct. Richard Burton's correspondence with his lady, Liz, simply makes us wish that more men would surrender to love totally.

Well, first of all, you must realize that I worship you. Second of all, at the expense of seeming repetitive, I love you. Thirdly, and here I go again with my enormous command of language, I can't live without you. Thirdly, I mean fourthly, you have an enormous responsibility because if you leave me I shall have to kill myself. There is no life without you, I'm afraid. And I am afraid. Afeared. In terms of my life, scared. Lost. Alone. Dull . Dumb. (That will be the day.) And fifthly , and I hope I will never repeat myself, I fancy you. I bet that you would be alright if you loved me and stuff like that.
---

I love you, lovely woman. If anybody hurts you, just send me a line saying something like "Need" or 'Necessary" or just the magic word "Elizabeth," and I will be there somewhat faster than sound. You must know, of course, how much I love you. You must know, of course, how badly I treat you. But the fundamental and most vicious, swinish, murderous, and unchangeable fact is that we totally misunderstand each other... we operate on alien wavelenghts. You are as distant as Venus - planet, I mean - and I am tone-deaf to the music of the spheres.
---

...so why don't you come down and visit me? I'll show you a good time... I love you. Very very very odd curious strange bizarre unattractive without you. Millions of kisses and hugs. The bed is huge!

All excerpts from A Love Too Big To Last by Sam Kashner and Nancy Schoenberger, Vanity Fair, July 2010.

Because if it is snowing in Stockholm, that's a great excuse to stay inside and make out all day with one of all the pretty natives.
But we still rather prefer the warm breeze of the Indian Ocean and laying poolside in Maputo.

Because we are slowly dying of thirst for newspapers or magazines made of paper, written in a language that we understand and filled with fun facts, stories, ideas and pictures of new, pretty boys. Like you.