Pola Kardum x Maren Böttcher
Esmod Fashion meets professional photographer at Blumen-Sühr's basement.
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Digital edition of the proud archive with stories on music, city life, nightlife, style, and Berlin.
How and where should we even begin? Perhaps with the story of the grandma in front of Berghain? Or the one about the striking disco balls, the rats' perspective, the jungle in the subway station, these animals called "Atzen," or maybe about the secret, state-planned techno dance lessons from fourth grade onwards to improve life energy?
How and where should we even begin? Perhaps with the story of the grandma in front of Berghain? Or the one about the striking disco balls, the rats' perspective, the jungle in the subway station, these animals called "Atzen," or maybe about the secret, state-planned techno dance lessons from fourth grade onwards to improve life energy?
All in all, two ladies of the writing profession chat about curiosities in the context of rave and gather stories and rumors from the air of Berlin's party kitchens for the esteemed readers. For example, this little anecdote about footwear:
They celebrated the Christmas dream at the Nachtbanditen, and once again, among the visitors were those who, due to a lack of foresight, had worn high heels for the dance evening. Despite numerous shards of Christmas tree ornaments on the dance floor, one such maiden couldn't help but, due to her music-induced movement, get rid of her stiletto heels, which she immediately placed in front of the DJ booth. A high shoe fetishist sensed his ultimate chance and grabbed the things as soon as the said maiden turned to the dancing crowd and flirted with the chic guy in white, snuck out of the club, and was never seen again. Presumably, at this moment, his tongue is wandering over the shaft of her stiletto heel, and a quiet sigh escapes his chest.