I knew before the word left my lips that it was a stupid question.

“What should I wear?”

I spent the weekend in Berlin with one of the first friends I made when I moved to Germany.

Josie lives in Berlin now; even though we don’t see each other as much as we did before, our friendship has remained constant.

And since she lives in Berlin, now I have a local to show me around!

We were getting ready to go to a Brazilian samba party when I asked the question.

At the same time, I was thinking one of the best things about Berlin is how there are so, so many different styles and NO ONE cares what anyone else is wearing (spotted streetstyles: more dreads than can be counted, guys in drag, girls with half-shaved heads, furry coats with zebra tights, punk leather jackets).

Every time I visit Berlin, I don’t feel like I’m in Germany anymore. The usual German obsession with rules and structure is absent in Berlin.

Anything goes.

You don’t see stone faces or people keeping to themselves. Instead, strangers strike up conversations with other strangers. And even…laugh.

The street performers, independent stores, art on the sides of every building all give a personality and soul to the city. It’s something I miss in Frankfurt.

Brazilian samba party and dirty hair for the win!

 

Even the bleak weather is bearable in Berlin. And exploring the city with a friend? Priceless.

We nourished our bodies (pictured: porridge bowl from a superfood cafe in Kreuzberg and sushi handmade by Josie) and our souls – with our typical spirit talks on love and life.

She introduced me to her life and her friends and her favorite places in the city she now calls home. And I loved it all.

It wouldn’t be a weekend in Berlin without dancing. We went to a techno party at Ritter Butzke, an old factory that started out as an underground club. It was 3 floors of performers, music and people just letting loose. Although I couldn’t make it much past 3am, that was just when the music started getting good.

The Circus-themed party.

We also went to Clash, a punk-metal bar that’s like taking a 30 year step back in time to cold war Berlin.

Bathroom art at Clash.

A weekend of dancing, relaxing, laughing and just letting go. Life is made of moments like these.