A Little Bit of Lykke Li

Since I'm still in the introductory stage of my blog, I thought I'd mention the one artist I have a never-ending love-hate relationship with: Lykke Li.  I heard about Lykke Li a few summers ago and after watching her "Little Bit"  video, I went straight to Value Village to buy myself a similarly whimsical outfit, twisting my hair into a bun.  Since then, I'm proud to say I've caught on to the majority of her trends, though my loved ones are mentioning more and more often now that they have no idea what size I really am.













Wispy, baggy layers have found their way into my heart and closet, and I've come to realize my obsession with them stems from their ability to pull me away from real life, at least on a physical level. If no one can see what I really look like underneath, well..it's the closest I'll come to being invisible. And why I would want to be invisible I haven't yet figured out..but it sure beats being flashy (or a flasher), and finally, it really helps around the holidays when I'm inhaling anything edible within a five mile radius.

I once bought a ticket to see Lykke Li in Montreal.  I was just starting a new job at a really mean office, so I was too scared to ask for the day off to leave for Montreal earlier. Instead I ran for the Greyhound right after work, missed it, caught the next one, and made it to the concert venue just in time to watch Lykke Li perform her last song.  I stood there crying like a toddler by a closed candy shop. I Let It Fall as Lykke would say. Then a bouncer standing near-by (most likely having witnessed the snot and tears pooling in the creases of my scarf) said "It was a short show. She only played a couple of songs."  That's when my sadness turned to anger.  We walked back to the Greyhound stop literally fifteen minutes after having arrived in Montreal, and got on the next bus back. How could she do that to me? I thought.






Never mind that. Then there was Osheaga, the next summer, in Montreal again. This time I came prepared. I arrived early and when it was finally time for her to come on stage, my fingers gripped my camera tightly. As did those of five thousand other people.  But she didn't come out then.  She didn't come out for another hour, and when she finally did, she laughed saying "Technical problems! Sorry!" and I thought strike two...this better be a good show!  And how it was.  So I forgave her. That night we took the bus back and I hated her a little less, because my heart, now covered in wispy, baggy layers, was inspired. So there's the love-hate.




Lykke Li at Osheaga



Swedish, careless, and unfortunately unforgettable, Lykke Li is now my BlackBerry's ring-tone, my first choice in impressing musically-starved strangers, and well...my fashion icon. 

Also, as you'll find much further below, she looks a lot like Little My. 

Coincidence? Jag tror inte det. 



Uncanny resemblance!