Kristiana Lalou Editor, Editorial Director, Creative Writer, Copywriter
Portfolio of Assorted Articles, Interviews and Blog posts
Magic for Muggles words: Kristiana Lalou I can make people disappear. I swear I can. Except I can't totally control it. I was one of those kids that began reading the Harry Potter series before it was complete. So after finishing book no3, I had to go through the painful process of waiting two years for every new book to come out. In the meantime, I would read the ones already available, about a trillion times. I admit, it is my most reread series of books. Not Dostoyevsky or Tolstoy, not even Jane Austen. So one can only infer that I also, simultaneously, went through that phase where I desperately wanted to be a witch. I still do actually. My pubescent aspirations were to barge into Hogwarts one day and confront the admissions office on why my letter of acceptance never came on my 11 th birthday. Yet before Harry Potter and his fantastic adventures, had come the “Witches of Eastwick” and all the 90s witchy films that fed my hunger for knowledge of witchcraft .“The Craft”, “Practical Magic”, “Sleepy Hollow” and “Hocus Pocus”, had come surging in to confuse and enlighten me at the same time, about the magical practices that folklore-turned-hollywood could teach me. Not to mention the books, like Roahld Dahl's “The Witches” for example, that I had decided was a gross misrepresentation of witches and had a how-dare-he stance on it, while maintaining it was a perpetuating misogynistic stereotypes. My mailbox void of any Magical School letters though, I turned to other types of magic. If I wanted to be a witch...nothing would stop me. I bought scented candles and wrote spells on a self made grimoire. I wished for my parents to be healthy and for good luck. That generally worked out. I asked for my crush to like me back, but it sadly didn't pan out. “Ah! Personal Gain!” I thought. “The Charmed” tv series taught me you can't use magic to help yourself, so there was my completely logical conclusion on the failure of my spell. But then, something very weird happened. I was about thirteen years old and I had a horrible bully whom I hated. He made my school life impossible. One day right before going to school, I prayed that he would transfer schools and I would never have to see him again. And what do you know, that same morning he came up to me and bade me goodbye saying he was transferring schools – he actually thought we were friendly. I was stunned. My powers were nothing to kid about. Next year a caught a flying pencil between my fingers and was declared a class hero. Clearly my powers were growing. When I was fifteen, the same thing happened again. I wished a bully went away and again he transferred schools. Now this was an undeniable pattern.
I think I got too cocky though cause I never quite managed to “do magic” like that again. Pride is a sin after all. I grew and grew and never received any sort of indication that I would ever be a proper witch. I expected some sort of documentation proving my ability or a fellow witch “feeling my power” and revealing herself to me. Yet, nothing happened. So that went out of the window and I embraced more logical expectations, like that of having a proper, paying job and a house of my own. Seems to me now that being a witch is more possible. I never completely gave up on my “magical powers” though. I focused on the unexplained coincidences and weird occurrences of life. Like say, I wanted ice cream really bad and my brother happened to bring some home. Or I hadn't seen a friend in a while and wondered how she was, right before I met her randomly on the street. Abracadabra, witches. Things like these, reinforced my idea that magic is what YOU make of it and all of us have different kinds of magic in us. I'll take what I can get, you see. These days my magic consists of making herbal tea - or potion making as I prefer to call it – and gazing at the full moon. I take comfort in the magic we all have within us and other inspirational stuff like that. Like chanting “please don't notice me” when someone I don't like is passing by and I don't want to talk to them. Or wishing for free garlic bread with my pizza delivery. Even the “think of me, when I think of you” whenever I have a crush. Magic is all around us, life becomes mundane only when we allow it. Give everything a witchy twist and life becomes enchanting! So, say it with me, Abra-freaking-cababra!
It IS easy, being Green. We live in a world where an eco conscience is a must. The cliché says we ought to take care of the planet as it takes care of us. In theory, most of us would like to live greener lives, but it’s the application that gives us a difficult time. So, if you have trouble figuring it out, we have made a comprehensive list of the first steps you need to take to live a more eco conscious life. First of all, you need to think about the waste you produce. A person produces about 2kg of garbage per day and if you do the math, the amount gets astronomical per year, let alone in a lifetime. So unless you want to soon live in a world infected by your trash, you ought to minimize the amount you produce. Get a reusable water bottle. Plastic bottles are a huge faux pas and detrimental to the environment, much like all plastic. Which brings me to my next point. Acquire a reusable bamboo coffee tumbler. Each day you take it to your favorite coffee shop, get your drink and relieve the planet of the plastic cups and lids most coffee shops offer. There are now a million brands offering very stylish options, to help be greener and more stylish at the same time. Win win! Plastic is generally not something you want to use a lot of. But most food packaging makes it impossible to avoid. Nonetheless you can cut back on your plastic waste by adopting a few easy habits. Ditch the plastic straws. There are funky paper straws everywhere and I love them to death. They make any drink ten times more fun to consume, yet if you feel even more committed to ecology, you can buy reusable metal straws online and sip guiltlessly on your drinks forever. Do I even need to tell you about plastic bags? Oh the horror. I have no idea why we still even produce them. Pick up three to four tote bags in colors and styles you prefer and say adios to plastic forever. No excuses here. Ever. I won’t even hear it. If per chance you do find yourself without a tote bag on you and must make a purchase, then you insist on a paper bag that you can later recycle easily. Dim the lights. Not to seduce anyone, but to save energy. You don’t really need a house lit up like a firework. One strategically placed lamp with an energy saving light bulb will suffice. Plus the dim lighting helps your brain prepare for turn down time and helps you sleep easily. Goodbye insomnia and hello green living! Whilst we are still at it. You should also turn down that thermostat. Put on a sweater, fluffy socks and get under the covers. No need to turn your place into a sauna.
This last easy tip is a very simple one, yet quite controversial. Eat less meat. Even if you don’t care that innocent animals are being slaughtered just so you can eat a burger whenever…you should consider eating less meat for the sake of the planet. Cattle farms are probably the biggest strain on the environment than anything. The water they consume. The land they cover and destroy. The harmful emissions and you know…the mistreatment of animals too, render them a huge burden on our ecosystem. If you won’t do without your chicken fillet or grazed pork, at least limit them to twice a week. Not only will this help minimize pollution but it will help you eat better, be healthier and happier. Not to mention smell better. People who regularly eat a lot of meat tend to smell different and it is not exactly a pleasant odor. Last but not least, your carbon footprint. This is again very basic, yet we all look past it constantly. Use the car only when you have to. Walk to places as much as you can. Get a nice bicycle and ride around the town doing your errands or shopping. Once again, this will make you fitter and healthier. There is really nothing to lose and everything to gain when adopting a greener lifestyle. Start making small changes and see your life transform on multiple levels!
Charging a comprehensive outlook on an introvert's ways words: Kristiana Lalou I love my friends. Love them to bits. I love hanging out with them and going places and doing fun things and generally being with them. But then I need to be alone for a while. Completely alone. Lock-my-self-in-my-room-for-two-days alone. Otherwise I can't function properly. I have always considered this normal. Seeing a friend or love interest and then spend at least a day by myself. Doing whatever I want to do...alone. Like recharging. Gathering strength until I can see them again. It feels like I expend energy when I am around people, that I need to recuperate afterwards. Yet some people I met later in life don't do this. Ever. In fact they get upset that I can't meet them everyday. This is all sorts of irrational to me and I am all sorts of weird to them. I try to make myself understood, but at times it is impossible, as me not meeting with someone, comes off as me not caring enough for them. That is certainly not the case. Being alone is fun. So fun in fact that I love nothing more than staying in and binge watching shows , reading, baking, taking looooong showers, watching 00s teen shows etc. It is as much fun as seeing the people I care about and spending time with them. One does not negate the other. I need it both. There is nothing more reassuring of my closeness to someone, than cancelling our plans because we are both exhausted and both being totally OK with it. Because we love each other and we will see each other again, when we are perfectly capable of doing so. The way I see it, I care enough about you, to meet you when I can be my best self and not a tired empty shell. Maybe ''empty shell'' is a bit dramatic, but you get my point. On the other hand there are people who just can't sit their butts down. They have to be out all day everyday. Calling people to make plans and hang out all the time, because they get depressed if they stay in, alone. Now, this is strange to me and frankly I deem it unhealthy. It feels like you seek the company of others not because you genuinely like to be with them, but because they serve as distraction. How insulting! If you can't be alone with yourself, there is a problem there.
Yet I cannot but admit that a sizeable portion of these people may just be way extroverted and completely happy with themselves and their lives. In which case I will need them to respect the fact that I am not like that, if they want to be my friend. There is a very clear distinction between people who thrive on communication and those who need time to themselves to refill their batteries. Once you accept the way a person functions best and decide to see things from their point of view, you can form long lasting meaningful relationships. How can I be there for you, or up for a six hour RPG session if I feel drained? Staying in for a week because I need to do so, doesn't mean I think you suck. When it's your birthday/promotion party or x important thing I will be there, but I will take a rain check on bar hopping with you for the best part of the week. That doesn't mean I don't care for you though. Bottom line being alone is my thing. Like your thing may be unfunny puns -alright that is my thing as well. Alone, not lonely. Loneliness is not my thing. So please remain my friend, I need you, as much as I need to stay in on Saturdays after a long week.
Professional Cyborg words: Kristiana Lalou World renowned, road racing cyclist Lance Armstrong once said that “Pain is temporary. Quitting lasts forever.� Pain is undeniably a part of life. I cannot imagine anyone who has escaped it and if there has ever been such a person, I imagine their life must have been equally devoid of sentiment, thrill and pleasure. Giving up on life, as fair as I think it may be, also has a very important drawback. It amounts to nothing. That is why I save all of my respect for people who resist it, that need to give up. The first time I met John he had twinkle lights, around his neck. I yanked at them and asked him what point was he trying to make. He told me quite matter-of-factly that he was a cyborg. I thought he was trying to be cheeky and brushed it off. Until later that same night, we all sat down to have a drink and John very naturally pulled at his left leg, twisted it upwards and rested his drink on his shoe. For a split second I was shocked and then it kind of all made sense. I smiled and realized this is his party trick, just like mine is leaving early. John was born with Klippel-Trenaunay syndrome. Instead of explaining it scientifically, with which google can be more of a help to you than me, I will just tell you that it affects extremities and in John's case it was his leg. I say was because he decided about a year and a half ago, to let it go. He is now sporting a prosthetic and in his words ''I feel much better, I couldn't even walk before and I was in a lot of pain. Now my back is straighter and I even gained two centimetres in height. I didn't have to do it but it was the best option.'' As a child, ''I was the kind of kid that went out in brand new trousers and returned with them torn in ten places.'' he laughs. ''But gradually because of my condition it became harder to do the things I wanted to. Sports for example.'' I ask him about his body image and how he feels about it all. He admits he isn't completely OK with his body. I don't know anyone who is anyway. ''I don't mind what my body looks like. My issue is with the limitations it imposes on me. For example, I have been into archery since age 13. I couldn't fully commit to it until now. Or say relationships for example, I know I can only appeal to a certain crowd. People who only base attraction on looks are automatically excluded.'' We argued a bit on this. The society we live in is very superficial, that much is true. But I can't imagine a witty man not being able to date freely. John went on to explain that the crowd he was referring to was the supermodel lot. A very realistic goal for any man out there. Perceived masculinity and social expectations are probably the culprits here. We measure romantic success based on our partner's good looks and not on relationship satisfaction. ''Bodies are irrelevant.'' he then argued. ''Bodies have no importance.'' Advancements in bioengineering promise us all solutions that will make our lives easier and help us break the confines of our fragile anatomy.''I can't wait to be a full blown cyborg.'' Improved eyesight, vital organ implants and of course prosthetics. ''They make prosthetics that are waterproof now. But they are so heavy. There is no point in having one on while I
swim. I'll sink straight to the bottom of the ocean. So I asked them for one with a propeller on.'' We laugh. He entertained the idea of a turbine too. When asked about what gives him trouble, of course Athens was mentioned as a not so disabilities friendly city. ''The pavements are uneven, often broken and narrow. It's the worse place to be if you have a disability. Stairs everywhere. You can't move around easily. If someone uses a wheelchair, he is fucked.'' Staying in Greece is not something John considers an option. I can't blame him. The crisis is not only financial. It goes deeper than that. Infrastructure is less than ideal. Where disabilities are considered, the state does as little as possible. The true mark of a civilized society is it includes and caters to the needs of all of its citizens. We can't claim to be all inclusive and bask in equality when we blatantly forget about a significant portion of people who don't share the needs the majority does. Despite it all, you can sense the zest for life in him. He describes himself as ''bitter'' and ''not a ray of sunshine'', but he is so wrong. In the little time I've known him, I see a pretty popular person, with a good sense of humour and multiple interests. Pretty standard stuff right? Well I don't tell him that. We all like to think we are special snowflakes. Our self image is also our shield. He likes to think he is aloof and moody. I like to think he is a marshmallow. It is all a matter of perception.
Reality Bites The escapist's guide to life Words: Kristiana Lalou Children like stories, fairytales and myths. It is their first window into the world. I learned about the perils of flattery by listening to a story about a fox, coveting a crow's piece of cheese. I learned about hard work being more important than talent, by a story about a rabbit who lost a race to a tortoise. Very early on, I was taught to close my eyes -or keep them open- and imagine adventures in lands of wonder. Where animals spoke with human voice , girls dressed like boys to escape perilous situations, kind knights rode on horses and helped anyone in need, villains were ruthless and dressed usually in dark colours. The stories matured along with me, but they never left my side. Well into what is considered my adult life, I still employ the imaginary to make sense of the world around me. When that fails me, I retreat into an entirely fictional world. In psychology we call it escapism, the general public calls it daydreaming, but I call it Alternate Realities. I am not delusional, not by any means. But if you believe in the possibility of a zillion parallel universes and alternate realities coexisting in the time space continuum, then it sort of makes sense that in another reality, I am the village witch, a prima ballerina in 17th century Russia, a young virile slave boy in ancient Rome, a priestess in a Sumerian temple or a bounty hunter with a mechanical leg in some steampunk world. Although I could write about all of this extensively, I will not. There is no point. I create these realities for personal use only. Nothing weird! Just killing time, when commuting mostly. You'd be surprised how quickly a two hour train ride will pass, if I am building a world of my own in my head. The worlds are not always that impressive either. Sometimes it's a simple story, like me and James McAvoy being high school sweethearts. I mean, hey, let a girl dream. The whole point of it is freedom mostly. We live in a world, where our every choice is dictated more or less by society and its rules. There are things I can't escape, no matter how hard I try. Things that scare me more than I realise. It is only natural then if I imagine a world, where there is no racism and I am an interplanetary marine biologist working on finding the rare Babel Fish. What is that you ask? Well...quoting the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, ''The Babel Fish is a small, leech-like, yellow fish, and by putting this into one's ear one can instantly understand anything said in any language;'' Freedom is such a commodity, if it even exists. I think there is nothing better or more scary than freedom. The most important gift my daydreaming offers me, is the freedom I cannot find in the real world. The freedom to be anyone, anything. The funny thing about it is I rarely imagine being a millionaire or something like that. More often than not, it is just me, reinventing myself in a another setting. It is not money we are missing, it is free will. You might argue that the world is as free as it has ever been and I am privileged enough to live in what is considered a free country. Even so, the freedom daydreaming about
other realities gives me is so quintessentially different than anything I can experience in the confines of our reality. The ability to fly? Sure, all mine if I want it. Communicating through mirrors instead of phones? Why not! Astral projection, space travel, eating without getting fat – veryyyy important. The possibilities are endless and so is my freedom. Most of the time I imagine, I must look like a complete fool to other people. I explained that I daydream in public, as much as I daydream in private. So when I smile for no reason, or stare right through everything, in a very creepy way I am sure, people travelling with me, must be thinking I am at least deranged. That doesn't bother me much, I will not trouble myself with the opinions of strangers on the bus. Unless there is a cute person there, then I will stare at them and build a character around them... I used to think I was alone in all this. That no one is bonkers enough to be doing this. Oh how wrong I was! I met most of my now good friends, in my early to mid twenties, an age where I was beginning to be very confident about my likes and dislikes. I didn't need to pretend to be anything I was not, to be liked. So, imagine my surprise when a good portion of the people I met, were ''daydreamers'' as well. We now share entire worlds – AUs we call them, for Alternate Universes- where we all have parts and can invent our characters and make our own storylines. It is incredibly fun and immensely exhilarating, let me tell you. Something like a never ending RPG game, where we ''rule'' and are free to be anything and anyone. I am not saying this is any way to deal with life, as a rule. We all pretend to be wholesome twentysomethings generally, but we can have our fun in our imaginary worlds all we want.
Binge, purge, repeat
The first time it happened, I didn't plan it. I had just binged on a whole bag of potato chips and after having done so, my anxiety and guilt, lead me straight to the bathroom. I purged, I puked, I emptied my stomach and I instantly felt 100% better. The guilt disappeared. I was a fairly skinny child. I ran up and down all day and always came home with bloody knees and elbows. Whenever I remember the sense of self I had back then, I envy that child. While my body issues peaked at age 14 -along with my breasts- I am acutely aware of the time they began. I was nine years old and had just come back home from playing with my friends all morning. I was washing up to eat and it was so hot that June day, that I took off my t-shirt and was about to wear my light pajama top, when my mother stopped me to take a look at me. ''You have developed a cute little belly'' she said and laughed. ''Maybe we should stop feeding you carbs, no more bread for you.'' I stood in utter shock. Never before had anybody commented on my looks, besides to say I am pretty or I look more like my dad, or where did I get those crazy curls from -it was decided I got them from my grandpa's sisters. I didn't realize how offended I had felt, until later that day I caught myself lifting my t-shirt to look at my stomach and started crying immediately afterwards. My weight was never a real issue, but people's acceptance was. 'No one will like you unless you look pretty' was the ever present fear both my parents distilled in me. Pretty meaning, not only having a pretty face, but a gentle demeanor, few words to say and of course a fragile countenance. How do you achieve the fragile look? Why...by being almost malnourished. My value was measured in kilograms. By everyone around me. Family, school, friends. And while I couldn't do much to stop my sharp tongue from rendering me less feminine, I was desperately trying to control my weight and fight my own body. I was at war and the more I lost the more I won. After a little hesitation at first, it eventually became a pattern. Binging then purging. I almost couldn't breathe and my mind was in chaos, unless I could rid myself of the calories and the shame. The technique included a spoon or my fingers jammed in my throat. It always hurt, but after some time it became easier. I never stopped crying while doing it. Being notoriously private, no one knew a thing. You won't know unless I decide you should. Locking myself in the bathroom like Margot Tenenbaum and as silently as possible spilling my guts, waiting for my tears to dry, washing my teeth and walking out just as I went in. It did work, it kept me skinny. I was completely aware
of how wrong it all was though. I hated myself more for it. I knew I needed help, but I could not, would not turn to my family. I do think my mother had maybe picked up on something, but I can't be sure. The one who certainly did, was my boyfriend at the time. I let him know. His reaction was expected. Outrage, worry, threats that he will leave me if I don't stop. He took me by the hand and led me to a psychologist's office. No one knew I was in therapy. It took all my strength and his love and support. I tried to put logic to work. Every time I would eat something I deemed fattening, I wanted to purge. I had to stop myself. I would pick up a spoon, walk to the bathroom. Stop to think. Then I would walk out again and put the spoon back in the drawer. No you will not purge. You ate it, now deal with it. It is not reversible. Again and Again. Each time I gave in, my tears and my disgust grew. Each time I resisted my confidence grew. When I finally learned to control it, I gained weight, but at least I did not purge anymore. It was not fast or easy, but I won. The war was over. It helped that no matter the number on the scale, my friends' and boyfriend's love was unwavering. I can't say the same for my parents. They can't accept the heavier version of me, but they try. To this day, whenever I eat something, remnants of that guilt follow me. I occasionally think about purging and every time I do, it takes a lot of rational thinking and emotional control to stop myself. Our demons never leave us, we just learn to silence them.
Adventures in Milan story: Kristiana Lalou Embarking on yet another adventure and our footsteps (not to mention a high speed aircraft) led us to Milan and its classy streets. It's the second most populated city in Italy -with a striking 5 million people roaming its streetsand the capital of Lombardy. Since the beginning of the decade, immigrants flooded the city, making it more diverse, with now roughly one sixth of its populace being foreign born. Milan promises a good time to the culture obsessed and fashion freaks alike. Milan's numerous Museums host exquisite permanent collections and many interesting touring exhibitions. We were lucky enough to see some Mucha and Hayez while there to our delight. The Da Vinci museum as well the Museo Duomo are a must visit. The highlight being the Milan Cathedral -the fifth largest in the world- of Santa Maria delle Grazie. Stroll inside to see Da Vinci paintings like the Last Supper and climb its never ending stairs to see the most breathtaking view of the city. If you are lucky enough it will be a cloudy day and your photographs of the view will leave everyone in awe. The infinite streets and alleys of the city are home to almost every single clothing brand you have ever heard of and some Italian one's to make you envy the locals, like OVS. Shopping is a natural occurrence even for those who are not fond of it. If your wallet can take it...pay a visit to Via Della Spiga where all the high end brands can be found and witness the many wonderful window displays that border on art, as well as half a square block taken over by the Dolce and Gabbana stores. Stroll through The Men's Street and see just that written in just about every language in yellow lights over your head. All this highlighted by the tasty street food and gourmet restaurants. Try the fried rice balls filled with ragu or cheese, called Arancini, eat pizza by the slice or in the size of Italy itself, in such a low price you won't believe it. Don't forget the Italian gelato and the cream filled cannoli of course for dessert! Definitely try drinking your espresso doppio or your cappuccino fast and pretend to be in a hurry like the locals. Just drink a lot of coffee while in Italy, you'll understand when you leave it later. The best thing about Milan though, is the Aperitivo! A “happy hour� of sorts, where restaurants and bars offer in a fixed price -no more than 15 euros usually- the drink of your choice and an all you can eat buffet. Yes you read that right. World...take note...the Milanese do it right.
Tips: The city charges you tax per day of stay so check with your hotel beforehand for prices. Get a metro pass and abuse it to save on transportation fees within the city. The Duomo Pass grants you entrance to the Cathedral,its museum and roof. Find Via Fiori Chiari and stroll through it after the sun has set. The best aperitivo to try? In “Iguana�,a bar near Porta Ticinese. Ice cream in the shape of a rose from Amorino. Learn some Italian phrases. You will most definitely need them.
Marina Abramovic – As One words: Kristiana Lalou
Performance Art's most notable, Marina Abramovic, graced us with a wonderful exhibition that blurs the limits between performers and audience and gives us a first hand experience on performance art. We visited the Benaki Museum and the collaboration of NEON and MAI and we brought you all the information. The event titled “AS ONE” is a combination of the Abramovic method experienced first hand by the visitor, who then moves on to observe the work of various performance artists. The visitor enters a room of silence, wearing noise canceling headphones, where he emerges in several exercises, designed by Abramovic herself, in order to “to be connected with themselves,with each other and with the present moment”. We left the room with mixed emotions of both anxiety and relief. The cathartic effect of the activities followed us through the whole day, manifesting itself in multiple surprising ways and we can for sure say that it left us more open and exposed to our feelings. Each day hosts different performance artists' work and we caught some thought inducing performances, our favorite being that of Nancy Stamatopoulou where in a Plato's Allegory of the Cave, she imprisons herself in a personal cave, forced to face the shadows of her own truth. We definitely suggest you pay a visit to the show, any day you can -maybe multiple days- as we intend to repeat our visit too.