Just a reminder that I'm not here anymore :)

I live here now: http://coveredincathair.dictiocanary.com/

And if you still want to follow my posts on Bloglovin you can do that here! (I hope you will *crosses fingers*

On the new blog I talk about eating disorders, depression and travelling - sounds fun, right? ;)


I have moved because wordpress offers better picture quality and a (to me) better design with less clutter. Not a bad word against blogger though. She has served me well :)

Hope to see you on the new improved Covered in Cat Hair <3

Xoxo,

Kathrine

I have moved!

I am now here: http://coveredincathair.dictiocanary.com/

And if you still want to follow my posts on Bloglovin you totally can: Here!

If not, no hard feelings :) Thanks for reading my blog <3

So long and thanks for all the fish :)

(And I totally hope you'll still follow me ;) There's a brand new post up with this Karina dress)

The Librarian Chronicles - Feat. The Vintage Optical Shop

I don't really wear glasses. I wish I did. I always have. You know how the Doctor wants to be a ginger? I wake up every day hoping the world is blurry. It never is. I have annoyingly perfect vision. But I love glasses...so when The Vintage Optical Shop contacted me for a collab - of course I said yes. For now my vintage frames are glass-less. But my entire family wears glasses. Unless I'm more of a freak than any of us ever thought I will need them in time - and that's where Vintage Optical Shop is clever. The glasses are unfitted and ready for your prescription. So I figured I'd follow this with a really nerdy post...

I'm a librarian. You wouldn't know it but I fought this title with my heart and soul for almost my entire education. Not at first. I started out wanting to be a children's librarian.

Glasses: Vintage c/o VintageOpticalShop

Then I got involved in schools politics. You know students rights, in which direction the education was heading, that sort of thing...

Dress and belt: Silly Old Sea Dog

Brooch: Heidi & Gretel

And I realized that many didn't want to be classic librarians. And I stepped up. Defended their point of view. Less library education, more generalization (not in a bad way, just different). And I forgot myself a little bit. Started to focus all my energy on the students not wanting to be librarians and forgetting the ones like myself who did.

I don't regret anything. Contrary to popular belief librarians aren't sexy. And the profession certainly isn't. But if taking the librarian out and putting "information specialist" in it's place makes more want to study this; peace be with it. The title isn't important (in the long run. It is to me but I'm just one person and for anyone feeling the same, claiming the title is quite easy), the profession however is important whatever it's called. 

We guard the information. We retrieve it. We architect it. It hurts when people ask me: I like reading to kids! Do you need an education to be a children's librarian?" 

We study for 3,5-5 long years. I took the big 5. It nearly broke me. It was hard. I studied, I cried, I studied, I drank, I studied, I kissed, I studied and I celebrated. But I didn't know what else to do because I needed this. I didn't even know much until I was done. 

The joy I feel every day cannot be described. I do what I love every day. How many get to do that? I walk into the library and I'm home. In any library. Once again like when I was 11. But now I really belong here. I'm part of the library. I'm the fucking librarian. I have skills, I can find the stuff noone else can. I can inspire kids to read. And I am good at this!

I did this. I. The broken girl. The confused girl who hurt the ones she loved and tried to check out before time. I'm home. And I love the stereotype with cat eye glasses. I'll own that, wearing glasses or not. I'll make librarians cool. Because we are. We rule the world. 

I will just add that this isn't my library. This is the library in Helsingør (Elsinore) which happens to be the best library in Europe. It's a 45 min train ride from Copenhagen but totally worth it. This library is off the charts! The childrens library especially. If you're ever in the area of Copenhagen, go to Helsingør. Kronborg (Hamlet's castle) is not too shabby either. But come for the library ;)


Xoxo,

Kathrine 

Follow the Yellow Brick Road - sort of.

I was contacted by Olena from My Bookmark to review a couple of bookmarks and you better believe I said yes! An excuse to do a fun photoshoot with my new Unique Vintage dress?! Yes yes og yes!! :D

My Bookmark (Instagram here) consists of 4 women who design, make and market really fun bookmarks. I first saw the wicked witch and it was love at first sight.

Pigtails and Pirates - a Fathers Day TARDIS edition

I have been told by social media that it's Fathers Day today. My father and I are very similar. We love reading (although he recently discovered the Internet and Youtube and I think I have lost him to the wonders of technology) and we don't need to talk all the time. We both just need to know the other hasn't croaked so occasionally we'll send a text. If that hasn't been answered within a week then we start to worry and maybe call... And if I go see a movie I'll text him afterwards: Amazing! or Don't bother.

Dress c/o: Pigtails & Pirates

I wear a Fez now brooch: Luxulite

Cardigan: Modcloth

Bow (tie): Lulu in the Sky

Sunglasses from eBay and belt from a Closet dress

Not like other girls?

I am a feminist. Let's just get that out of the way. There are a thousand ways to be a feminist and I'm not going to tell you how to feminist.

I have wanted to write this in a while but wasn't sure how. Now I'm just doing it, because we had an election last night and I'm furious and I need to rant.

I frequently see shit like this:

And I can't help roll my eyes a little bit. Snowflake, you are not unique. This is basically thousands of girls. Why is it girls and women have this need to be "not like other girls?"

You guessed it. I'm going to tell you. Sit back and bask in the rays of my genius.

We don't want to be like other girls because girls are weak. Girls like dresses and tea parties, we are breakable and dainty and boring. We talk about boys and lipstick. We read Jane Austen and think spiders are gross.
And guess what? This is all completely true. For some girls. For me. Except the Austen thing. I've actually never read Austen. But I want to.
And we are so much more. We play WoW, we fangirl hardcore over Doctor Who, zombies, comic books, books and super heroes and dinosaurs. We dress in jeans, dresses, stockings, sweats and cosplay. And most of all: most of us are all of this and a lot more. We are princesses, geeks and warriors.

It's a hairy situation

Okay, so I stumbled across this post on Facebook about not shaving your armpits. I'm an idiot so of course I read the comments.
And if you're now thinking: Ew, gross she's going to talk about hair on women's bodies, I urge you to stay a little longer. Because of that 'ew'.

My sense of justice is warped, I'll admit to that. I mostly believe in an-eye-for-an-eye or more. You don't deliver my package on time? A PLAGUE ON ALL YOUR HOUSES! Rape Sansa Stark? I'll sacrifice Stannis' daughter if that means YOU DIE!
Yeah, I'm not proud. Okay, sort of. No of course not. (A little)

But I can't help feeling immensely annoyed when my hair is considered gross and unhygenic and mens are not. I'm not going to lie, I don't care that much about what you or anyone thinks. I'm in a relationship. It's been almost 6 years. He knows I'm lazy. He'll comment on occasion that my legs are prickly and I'll scowl at him - and not do anything about it. Also he never shaves his anything. I'm not going to gross you out by telling you what I do and do not shave - except I already gave away that I shave my legs...okay and my armpits. Mostly. If I plan on reaching something while not wearing a sweater I will.

The Librarian Chronicles: The Children's librarian who doesn't want children

I was never one to swoon over babies. Kittens? Yes. Puppies? Yes. Gross little naked birdlings? Yes. Human babies? Yuck. I have never found them cute and I always panic a little when someone hands me one (and why are babies always passed around parties like joints?).

So why would I want to work with them? Well, first of all I don't dislike children. And I will probably always relate more to children than to adults. I was bullied badly. Books were my friends. The library saved me. I have to pay that back. I want to pay that back.

And if you're a completely normal child (if there is such a thing) with a good, bully-free life, books, movies and comic books can still change your world for the better. I want to be a part of that. I want to see that light ignite in a child's eyes when they discover that book or movie that changes their life forever.

And if the child never discovers a passion for reading I want to help it find the books that are least a chore for them to read when their parents or teachers make them read something and introduce them to comic books and books with online games to make it more interesting. I want to tell them that's okay too. We're all different and whatever they like, gaming, playing soccer or drawing is great too! And tell them that they are not stupid or ignorant because they don't like reading.

Also how can you possibly have children when you'd happily push them out of the way to have your picture taken with giant plushies? ;)

Guilty Pleasures - and other things I dislike.

Unless you think that guy Adolf Hitler had some pretty good points in Mein Kampf or that neo-nazi folk band who play banjo whilst rapping about murdering POC and gay people, is actually the best thing you've ever heard, you should never feel guilty about listening to or reading anything.

Vintage cardigan and brooch: c/o Joules Jewels Vintage

(Seriously check out her Etsy shop, she has some awesome vintage stuff! Also she's really nice :D )

T-shirt: Bookworm Boutique

But the other way around is equally annoying and it's also one of things that makes me not want to be a librarian in the grown up section of the library. I am constantly told by (older) patrons that I'm wrong for not reading poetry or listening to classical music or reading whatever they think is awesome. Of course I just smile and nod apologetically, because I'm at work and generally a polite person (when I'm at work at least) but on the inside I am screaming. STOP TELLING ME WHAT TO LIKE!! On occasion I will venture into saying stuff like: Well, we all have different tastes, or The world would be boring if we liked the same stuff, right? but more often than not it will be met with a patronizing look and my being assured that I'm still wrong and should read more poetry. Thanks, but no thanks. Recommendations are great! Orders not so much.

I never wanted to change the world...

...but maybe somehow I will anyway - if only for a few people. I'm not sure why I started to blog except as much as I love IG I find that too long captions aren't the point and sometimes I want to say more. Sometimes I don't and then there will be weeks without a post - like now. Sorry :-S I know that is a no-no in blogging, but I also strongly believe in not writing just to write. You need to have something to say. Also I've been busy. Reading. Ok, I was reading but that's busy too.

Lately several people have told me they have been inspired by me. That left me so incredibly flattered and humbled (after my initial thought that they must be mad ;) ). You all know you only see parts of my life (and anyones life) on social media. And maybe that's okay. It doesn't show the panic attacks, the shouting, the fighting and the tears and the hurt. But we all know those feelings. Would the ugliness make anyone feel better? Or does showing the good, the surviving, make people want to fight their own demons to create a better life for themselves? I have come to believe the latter. And I have found that in creating my IG-persona I have too become a better person. I want to be that person! I am re-creating myself as the person I want to be.

Random kindness of strangers

Friday night when we were out taking these very serious pictures...

I found a trashed school bag. All that was salvageable was a school book, two other books and a library card.

Of course I couldn't leave this girls stuff out there (also I couldn't leave books out there). And thankfully there was a library card so I could go my local library and have them look her up and contact her. I left the bag with the librarian and fingers crossed they will find her and she'll be able to come get it. 

I don't know if this was the work of thrives or bullies (I guess in this case they are the same thing) but you would be an idiot to think a little girl would have large amounts of cash or valuable thing in her school bag. Either way I felt bad for her. So I collected a little goodie bag for her.

Why I need feminism #thisdoesntmeanyes

This is sort of an addition to the other post and a response to the tag I got today #thisdoesntmeanyes. You see I took the other post down because I got cold feet. I didn't want to get judged or pitied or have people change their opinion of me. I posted it to be a part of getting rid of the stigma but I'm sadly also very much affected by that. So I took it down. I've put it back up now with some edits I left out. But the story is still the same - with one major lie. Yes, I'm continously angry and now I am definitely more Katniss and Tris (violent and shouting) than Bella (jumping off cliffs) (you didn't think I'd go without a literary reference, did you?) and I often feel more like solving my problems with violence - though I never do - but I also know I'm afraid. I probably wouldn't be able to fight off an attacker. So when I stated I wish to have the chance I'm being very theoretic. Thought I should clear that up ;)

If I had been raped when I was 12 I would have lucky compared to if  I was now. Wtf? you're thinking but hear me out: A child is off limits. That's a rule. People would have seen it as no fault of mine. A woman on the other hand... When I run I practice talking to the police, the questions they'd ask. What was I wearing, did I initiate the contact, why was I out alone at night?

And in my head I retort: Would you ask your daughter that? I didn't know there was a curfew for women.

But in reality I very much doubt I'd be so snappy. So instead I run faster, change sidewalks when groups of men approach, turn the music up louder when I pass so I don't hear what they shout. And this is how it is. This is normal. And that is why I fucking need feminism.

#thisdoesntmeanyes #thisdoesntevenmeanhavealook #ImonlysexywhenIsayitsokay

xoxo,

Kathrine

The girl

When I was 12 I was molested. He was 13. It would have been worse if any of us knew what he was doing. I wiggled my way out. He left. I never told anyone.

We'd tried to become popular, my best friend and me. We invited people to a party at my farm. Nobody showed up. But one day Martin did now he had my adress. Alone. My friend was there but she left the room. Better me than her I guess. She was right. She wasn't very strong - if she was she would have stayed. And then he tried to rape me. Had he known what he was doing I would have been toast. He was big. I was not. But he didn't and he left. In school I survived his and others abuse for years - although never again like this. Just beatings and humiliations.

I met my stepfather. I survived that too. 

I tried to kill myself but I couldn't. Then I just hurt myself to make up for it. I was nearly hospitalized because my mother didn't know how to keep me away from the knives.

Since I was 12 I've waited to be attacked. And not like most hoping never to be. But hoping it would happen to me. Never initiated or even provoked. But hoped. To have the chance to defend myself. Teeth and nails. Even if I failed to save myself at least I'd be as bruised and ruined on the outside as I felt on the inside. Maybe someone would notice. 

I had so much rage inside me. It would leave me either a victim or a survivor and that would define me. And I would be free from the tension. Now I'm neither. The absolution never came. I'm just a girl with so much anger inside and no one knows. 

Curse words and trickery

When I was 13 my ex-stepfather's son came to live with us from Australia. He was a year or so older than me and to say we didn't get along is putting it nicely. We fought a lot. Both verbally and physically. Turns out he was (figuratively speaking) pulling my pigtails because he liked me. Has that ever actually worked? For anyone except Edward Cullen anyway. Urgh some boys really!

Obviously he didn't speak Danish at first having grown up in Australia. Unfortunately that was no hindrance for him to talk to me because I spoke English too well to pretend I didn't understand him. One day he had me pinned up against the wall, choking me as usual (don't get your knickers in a twist, we were equally horrible to eachother and while he was stronger than me I definitely was more cunning and cruel). And I initiated as much as he did. This time it was him though. I don't remember why or what I'd retorted to make him this angry - but cruelty and spitefulness was my specialty, being too small to rely on brute force.

My mind was racing as to how to get away this time and I suddenly remembered a book I had just read. A rather silly funny book that featured a creature called a Slobbergob. And a plan formed.
"You! You SLOBBERGOB" I yelled and immidiately slapped my hands across my mouth with a horrified look on my face. Eyes huge and scared. "Don't tell your dad I called you that! Please please please" I've never been much of an actor but I even managed to tear up a little.

The Slobbergob

Of course he raced down to tell on me. The only thing better than torturing me himself was having his father do the dirty work. "Kathrine called me slobberglob!", he screamed. His father looked at him, confused and angry to be disturbed. "She called me a slobberglob...", he trailed off beginning to realize he had been tricked.

While his father yelled at him for disturbing him with such utter nonsense I slipped off to return to my santuary at the library to reread the book that got me out of trouble this time.

Of course I was back in trouble when I came home. That his wifes daughter so easily outsmarted his son was bound to be punished. He never laid a hand on me but I wish he had. I think that would have my mother snap and leave him much sooner. But he was a cunning son of a bitch. I think having had an abusive relationship up close and personal and seeing how easily it can break an otherwise strong woman is very scary especially when that woman is your mother. It's bound to change you and how you view the world.

It sorta goes with this story that my stepfather was an ass. He wasn't at first. But once he had his foot in the door, he became an abusive asshole. As bad as it was for me (being the devil's spawn and all as he later called me) it was a houndred times worse for my three younger siblings as he was their actual father. Looong story short: In the end he (and Patrick) left to be Muslims in Turkey full time, he came back (Patrick was shipped back to Australia when he became to hard to control), he tried to get custody of the kids, didn't succeed and left again for Turkey and have had no more contact with my siblings. He did however send letters to me that my mother intercepted. That's were the devil's spawn thing comes from. I didn't read those until much later. I don't know what he expected but I was kinda flattered he thought so highly of me and my evilness.

As far as I know he remarried, fucked that up too and is now alone and hopefully miserable. And I have gone from wanted to beat the crap out of him with a dirty lawn chair myself to just hoping a tiny personal earth quake will shallow him up. I carry grudges with the same ease others carry flowers. The not being able to protect my siblings and my mother from his cruelty and callousness sent me spiraling in depressions and self injuring for years after. Not just him of course. I also had the luxury of being bullied and attacked daily in school, I couldn't even protect myself. My only sanctuary was the library and the woods where I dreamed up countless revenge plans I couldn't carry out because after all I was just a skinny kid who was small for her age. 

There's always more to people than meets the eye, isn't that so?

I am here because...what?

Today I had my first writer's thing-arrangement-tiny conference with a Norwegian children's book author and (more importantly?) graphic designer, Stian Hole. The publisher (an intern to be precise) sent me a copy of his very first book that was published in Norway 10 years ago and now is to be published for the first time in Denmark. He has however have other books published in Denmark and in English I believe? The Garmann trilogy. Really beautiful books.

The book didn't come with an explanation but I'm not thick. I have a 6 months career as a children's librarian behind me. I wasn't invited because of that. So Instagram it must be as it is the only other thing I really do. I have more or less gradually changed my IG to my librarian identity - but it's still mostly focussed on dresses. I know I probably should pace myself with the bookstagrams.

Hey four-eyes!

I have 20-20 vision. It's always bothered me because glasses are awesome! Everyone in my family has glasses! Except me and my youngest siblings (and my 91 year old grandmother. Apparently I take after her) And they don't want glasses so they're happy. So unfair. Sigh.

Thank goodness there are ways to solve this. Such as Le Vero Girls who wear glasses collection! Boyfriend calls them my super hero glasses. I'm not sure if he's actually trying to be snarky but I love it! :D Super hero glasses <3

Cornish Love

British by heart if not by blood is something I've always been (also I really love things covered in batter so I think I qualify quite nicely ;-P ). My father is Polish and Ukranian, was born in Germany, grew up in England and have lived in Denmark for nearly 50 years - the majority of his life. But every summer from I was a wee girl to a couple of years ago I spent every Summer in Reading, England where my nan used to live and/or York where my fathers identical twin lives (I might add I have the strangest accent and speech pattern. I grew speaking British English but read and watched so much American English over the years that now it's just a mess).
Anyway a few years ago I visited Cornwall (more precisely Newquay and a tiny village called Bodmin) for the first time (where my aunt and her family lives - we've never had time to go before - ususally they came to Reading instead). The next year we went my aunt took us sightseeing all over the place and I fell in love. I was born to the wrong sibling - I should have been my Aunt Christines child ;) I love my father, but Denmark over Cornwall - urgh no thank you. We are a tiny flat country that is mostly farmland. I grew up in the largest forest in Denmark (okay okay, next to. I wasn't raised by wolves) and I have a hard time not being surrounded by nature. I manage though as there certainly are a lot more to do in Copenhagen than in the country.

(Have you read An Abundance of Katherines? Well, I need a friend like Hassan to stop me from adding too much information to rather straight forward tales too. Also my least favorite John Green btw. Just couldn't get involved with the characters and while the idea with all the Katherines is amusing it is also too farfetched and makes Colin seem a little creepy. Anyway that wasn't the point at all...)

My point was that I was really excited when Bodkin offered to send me one of their scarfs. They are located in Sidmouth which is...ta daa in Cornwall! Hence my story...

Dresses and feminism

My mother has always dressed however the hell she wanted to dress. Which of course embarrassed the shit out of her kids. Before I was born it meant being naked a lot, or skimpy shorts with a knittet gold bikini top (mostly in the Summer. I hope). She was a flower child. Much to her parents dismay I'm sure. Growing up it meant long flowing gypsy style skirts, dangling rattling gold jewelry and a huge men's motorbike jacket with more tassels than you could count. Now it's colourful leg warmers, jeans skirts and pink scarfs. So I didn't get this urge to dress up from strangers. But for a long time the only thing I wanted was to fit in and to just have a mother who looked like everyone elses mother (and yes yes, she said one day I'd understand and I'd be happy and yees, she was right blah blah whatever >.< ;) ). I'm not sure my mother considers herself a feminist. She is though. She's raised 5 kids mostly on her own. She's never cared what people thought. She has 4 girls that I'm pretty sure she wants treated as her son is.

Feminism is cool pin - ModernGirlBlitz

Dress - Bernie Dexter

Cardigan - Fever London

Twilight - the sexy vampire saga

I decided to "live-tweet" my comments while reading Twilight. Obviously not all. Then I'd still be on page 10 ;) And it's unedited. 

Here. We. Go.

Wardrobe Addictions

I am the person who buys the same dress in all the colors. I'm sometimes even tempted to buy two of same dress in case I ruin it or it gets worn out (spoiler: I have more than a 100 freaking dresses - I can't wear them enough to wear them out!)

Bloomsbury dress in floral c/o Closet

Bait Footwear Idas in Navy - (similar - sort of)

Old tights from H&M

Navy crop cardigan - Modcloth

Collar clips from Shelovescutestuff

Hair bow - Lulu in the sky

Art by notitledk

The Librarian Chronicles: Taking responsibility for the fledglings

As you may have gathered from my IG I :
( - finished my masters last Summer)
1) am a librarian - preferably childrens - but this is a choice, not something I am limited to.
2) currently in a substitute postition (2.5 months - someone broke a hip. Unlucky for her, good for me)
3) am invited to a lot of interviews but never get the position.

The economy is still poor and nobody feels this like government funded institutions. But there are some positions. And they are intrigued by my applications and my picture. But in the end they opt for a person with more experience. Since october last year I have been to 7 job interviews (I may have forgotten one or two) and I have another tomorrow. They all like me and think I'm quite sensible and have great ideas (which they probably steal ;) ). But it's risky to hire someone with little to no experience.

So here are my thoughts on employers taking a social responsibility.

Don't feed the trolls

I have mostly been spared negative comments on my IG profile. Thankfully. I have had a few negative comments, some spam and usually I just delete them (I report spam though, follow4follow my ass) It's really not worth it to reply. On occasion though I must.

Snow Days and interviews.

You may find this strange but some of my favourite places are grave yards. I have never feared death and I don't find grave yards sad or creepy - or well they are sad and creepy in a good way. I have lost people both naturally (granparents) and a couple where you would claim it was too soon (suicides, one uncle, the youngest of my dads brothers, and one friend) but still I do not find death unfair or cruel. It is simply part of being alive. And for some a relief.

Actually, it may or may not be a Danish thing. We like to utilise our green areas and we use many of our most beautiful grave yards as parks. We picnic, take walks or indeed frolic in the snow in grave yards. This is Vestre Kirkegård in Copenhagen where we went on our Sunday Adventure.

This is a monument for the fallen in the beginning of WWII.

Confession Time and Cat dresses

I got swept away by one of those apps that can make your skin look all neat and airbrushed. And I don’t want to cheat like that. I don’t want other women looking at me and thinking why don’t I look like that and feel bad or jealous or wonder what's wrong with them.
I don't mean tweaking the light and colours and such - that's just editing. And I don't want to go around saying it is wrong for others to use those kinds of apps, simply that I don't want to. Someone complimented my skin in a picture where I'd used that app and I have to admit I felt a bit ashamed to be ashamed of how I really look. There's just no point. And it goes against what I truly believe - that noone should feel ashamed about how they look or explain why they look like that.

The Librarian Chronicles or A day in the life of a Little Librarian

Although I don't believe in NY resolutions I have wanted to do something more serious with my blog for a while and there's no time like the present. Initially I thought I'd be doing reviews and such. But frankly I find that a bit boring...and most questions regarding my dresses etc comes on IG anyway. When it comes to dresses I'm a much better Instagrammer than I am blogger it seems ;) So I also changed the name of the blog as you might have noticed.

Covered in Cat Hair was/is my sadly rather abandoned Tumblr but I forgot about the name when I initially made this. So now I'm Covered in Cat Hair. Hi there *waves*