Oranienburger Strasse

Berlin is expecting a heat wave with temps to hit the low 90s. 

i was told last night that these were going to be "sahara winds," which puts me in mind of the crazy fucked-up Santa Anas that sweep through Southern California each September or so, which i remember from living there back in the day.

they are a cunning force, these types of winds, and have the diabolical ability to shift the charge in the air.

Those hot dry winds that come down through the mountain passes and curl your hair and make your nerves jump and your skin itch. On nights like that every booze party ends in a fight. Meek little wives feel the edge of the carving knife and study their husbands' necks. Anything can happen

          - Raymond Chandler

i have no idea how this plays out in a city like Berlin, but i do wonder the affect of it on the impossibly fit and capable looking hookers hanging out in the Oranianbsburg Strasse, since the design of their look seems to be orbit around the ideas of some sort of glistening teutonic ski fantasy. 

parts of oranienburger strasse seem to have turned into Buckhead, a neighborhood in Atlanta filled with visiting sales reps and locals looking for guaranteed good times in chain restaurants and bars geared to please all and satisfy no one. so the ladies, who are usually stationed every twenty yards for block after block, definitely have a target market and demographic in mind. granted, their deep tans and impossibly long and thick hair should translate over to the change in weather, but the patent leather boots--often thigh high--and corsets cinching short nylon down-filled jackets are going to be challenge.



while i don't think they'll resort to string bikinis, i'm guessing a dirndl or two could make an appearance.



who knows about the knives and the necks.