Vivien Koshka

Shake the system, then surpass. — Peaches
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Vivien Koshka

Vivien Koshka




Languages: German, English, Russian, Ukrainian

Height: 164

Shoe size: 37

Bust: 75 A

Figure: graceful and elegant

Eyes: morion

Hair: opium

Skin: amber

Parfume: Athalia, Parfums de Marly

Favorite drink: Bloody Mary

Favorite dish: finger food

Favorite restaurant: Bandol sur mer, Stadtpfeiffer (in Leipzig)


Bookable in Leipzig, Berlin und worldwide.




A Grace appears from the darkness – on her lips the night’s sly smile. Dark brown curls caress the sensual line of her neck, as she senses your presence, your desire: It’s Vivien Koshka. With jet black eyes she resists your gaze.

To you, she’s like a purring little kitten. Her every movement is silky, scintillating. With a whispering voice both powdery and husky she expresses her desire. Her desire, not yours: she doesn’t ask about yours – she doesn’t need to. This soft yet headstrong Ukrainian lady is surrounded by an air of secrecy, which makes you want to explore her. Profoundly. To master her bitter emotion. An invisible hardship, which she – eager to learn – once subjected herself to equipped her with this sophistication that she now knows how to apply like no one else. Vivien Koshka is a variety star: She sings and she reveals her nakedness, spinning around the hard steel of the pole. Wouldn’t you love to be the one waiting for her backstage? Who is this woman?


Vivien Koshka about herself


Being a stranger in your eyes, a stranger among strangers, I knew early on what the price was for belonging. Did I want to pay it? Even at the elite boarding school, I knew I didn’t want to be chasing a career. I avoided all the treacherous opportunities that arose, the temptations of opportunism, like a stray cat avoids rat poison. If, like me, you know that you can do without, you don’t choose the recognition of power over the joy of subversion. Caption: Satisfaction.

But if you want to really understand me, you’ll have to know: I have no roots; I don’t belong anywhere – either in this world or in this country. Is it just me, or is it true that many things that we humans should have achieved long ago seem in fact so easy? Why should I give up fighting for a world in which I would feel safe. My only home is my thoughts. My only home is activism. My heartbeat is rebellion. I don’t want to rest; I was made for restlessness.




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