Hot wine and cute Swedes? Sign me up.

Last night the very cute new Swedish diplomat in town hosted a holiday party at his apartment.  Swedish embassies around the world traditionally host a Saint Lucia party, an event familiar to any woman who lusted after the Kirsten doll from the American Girl doll collection.  Sadly, the FabuCrat’s parents were far too thrifty to drop that kind of cash on a toy with which I would inevitably have grown bored in just a few months.  So, while I appreciate the lesson they passed along in financial responsibility, I’ve had to turn elsewhere for my education in Nordic culture and folklore.

Enter the cute Swede.  He declined to host a Lucia party, choosing instead to put booze at the heart of his party theme, a choice I always endorse.  In this case, it was glögg, the traditional Swedish mulled wine.  I admit that I giggled a bit at the invitation’s translation for glögg (“hot Swedish wine,” ha) but liked it just as much as I thought I might.  He served it in small glasses with blanched almonds and raisins in the bottom and accompanied by gingerbread cookies, as Swedish tradition dictates (though without the cinnamon sticks depicted here; not to worry — there was no way to miss the cinnamon notes in the product itself).  It was, in general, a lovely evening with some lovely company to boot.  We all reported very restful sleep.

glögg

Though the Wikigods tell me that mulled wine was originally a Roman invention, the tradition has spread far and wide since the fall of that particular empire.  Versions of mulled wine are ubiquitous at Christmas markets in European capitols, and you can even find versions in Brazil and Japan, the former traditionally associated with the Festa Juninha in southern Brazil (home to large populations of European immigrants and their descendants) and the latter made with saki.  There’s also a glögg-flavored liqueur, the website for which includes some recipes for glögg-esque cocktails.

But it’s dead easy to make the stuff and in the process you leave your house smelling just amazing.  Why bother with strange, undrinkable stove-based home scenting solutions from Pinterest when you can get the same effect while also upping your holiday party game or just amping up wine night?

It seems that 2011 was the year that glögg was all the rage on the internets.  This article from Edible Manhattan has a nice story and a nice recipe as well.  If you want to be very traditionally Swedish, sub out the brandy or rum for aquavit (either a Swedish import or a homegrown version).  You can also soak the raisins in brandy, rum, or aquavit while the wine heats up.

Grattis högtid Saint Lucia!

Hairbrained

I suppose it’s fitting that this first blog post is about my hair — the first of many, no doubt, given the extent to which the mop on my head has dominated my life.  When I was young, I had waist-length strawberry blonde hair and French-braiding became my mother’s hobby.  In high school, hairdressers sighed and broke out extra boxes of bobby pins when I came in for formal event updos.  In college and after, though, I started losing quite a bit of hair and cutting it a bit shorter.  I can’t lie — the reduced blowdry time has been a godsend.  But thinning hair comes with many, many drawbacks — about one of which I opine below.

Winter is coming!

The dramatic reduction in phone calls volume from my overlords in Washington, D.C. indicates that the District sleeps at home this morning under a blanket of snow.  Or a light dusting — this is D.C. we’re talking about, where a few flakes cause an all-out riot at the Social Safeway.  Here in FabuStan (the remote locale where I currently make my home), the weather has only just now taken a turn for the wintry, but in temperature only — not a cloud in sight.  My hair a turn for the static-y.  What heat and humidity are to ladies with thick, curly tresses, chill and dryness are to those of us with fine, delicate ones.

Plenty of people (including my blogging icon, Belle from Capitol Hill Style) recommend Static Guard as a solution, generally sprayed on a hairbrush.  That particular fix has always left me a little cold, not only because I find it odd to apply a laundry product to my hair, but also because a few passes of a knit scarf or wool coat and my hair is right back where it was — standing straight out from my head or fused at random to my sweater.  I’ve found that a few products help not reduce the static quotient and provide a few bonus benefits, too.

Spray.  One of them is Oribe’s Maximista Thickening Spray which is pricey, but adds great volume and texture (and bonus static cling protection) without making my hair tacky or clumpy.  It also happens to come in a perfect, 6.8 ounce size, which makes it PouchPerfect ™ — meaning I can get it in the U.S. government mail bag on which all of my hopes and dreams depend about once every three weeks.

Mousse.  I’ve never been a huge fan of mousses, but Redken’s Guts 10 Volume Mousse does the trick when I’m in the mood for Big Texas Hair (linked here in a PouchPerfect 10.6 ounce size).  I’ve been interested to try Redken’s Aerate 08 Cream-Mousse, which promises to be less weighty than I fear.

Glossing.  The last bastion against static is a dab of Bumble and bumble Brilliantine.  I rub a pea-size amount in my palms, smooth them lightly over my hair, and rake my fingers through the ends a couple of times to finish up.  The size is, fortunately, also PouchPerfect.

An impending trip to the U.S. also has me contemplating what kinds of bargain-sized beauty liquids I can stuff in my suitcase for the trip back.  Large-size beauty products are a lifesaver for those of us who spend significant time overseas, but restrictions on our mail often mean we have to stock up on infrequent trips to the U.S. or Europe.  While I am happy to pay a lot for a high-quality styling product, I tend to balk at expensive shampoos and conditioners and lived most of my life happily scrubbing away with Pantene (which I still think made my hair feel cleanest and healthiest).  But after a few overseas jaunts in places with hard, calcified water that wreaked havoc on my hair, a few friends have advised that a phosphate-free option might be a better choice.  Oribe makes great phosphate-free products, but at a price; their liter-size bottles bring down the cost per unit (like this 1000ml bottle of their Signature Shampoo), but the sticker is still sticker-shocking.  Rahua is another oft-recommended brand, but they don’t do any better on price.

Anyone have a suggestion for a phosphate-free shampoo and conditioner that won’t take too big a chunk out of my travel budget?

Welcome to the fabureaucracy . . .

I hope that you’ll enjoy this window into the life of a wide-eyed girl in a woman’s body and a woman’s job.  With about six months left in this particular remote corner of the world before a big move to the world’s most famous swamp-based capitol (Washington, D.C.), the FabuCrat will fumble her way through 180-days (and beyond) trying to find something healthy to eat, something sensible to wear, and a new workout DVD.