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<< All we ever wanted, was everything. >>
By: Mike Mills

Wednesday, March 02, 2011

the Dam Runway

As living in the heart of town may seem like the perfect hotspot, it also has its disadvantages. Especially when you have an absolute urge to wear heels. Every single freaking day.

Ever been to Amsterdam? If yes, you must have visited Dam Square. Dam Square – often just called the Dam – and its lovely national monument dedicated to the fallen soldiers in World War II; its majestic buildings housing hotels, museums and stores; the royal palace that has been covered in scaffolds for as long as I can remember; the many, many tourists wandering around looking rather lost, and the troops of pigeons that hysterically hop around.

All of the above set the mood for the Dam, making it one of Amsterdam's most visited places. However, another very defining feature of this Dutch square are the – very lovely looking, but sometimes rather annoying – cobblestones. Obviously they add to the historical feeling of the square, which doesn't necessarily mean I couldn't live without them. These round, uneven stones make your supposedly very elegant float look as if you're suffering from a chronic unbalance disease. No, I'm not drunk at 08.30 in the morning, when upon catching the tram to my job, I stumble and hobble along and finally reach the other side of the Dam. Tiptoeing is not an option when wearing 15 cm platform wedges, as I would then undoubtedly crash and fall, and have those stones marked in my face for at least two weeks.

"And just like Mozes had a moment of divine interference when he thought of splitting the Red Sea in two, our ever thoughtful mayor came up with a – I must admit – rather luminous idea too."

But thank-the-freaking-lord; for one of the most prestige and eldest department stores is located at the head of Dam Square. With the endless stream of gloved and glittered ladies in desperate need of some old-fashioned high end goodies and the limited access to LV leather totes and Chloé clutches offered in an allure setting in Amsterdam, it seemed there was only one solution that would stop this house from facing a dramatic drop in sales. And just like Mozes had a moment of divine interference when he thought of splitting the Red Sea in two, our ever thoughtful mayor came up with a – I must admit – rather luminous idea too.

He created our very own Dutch runway: dividing the Dam into two halves, with one super long, sleek, stretched, marble runway in the middle. This way the Gucci gloved, the Marc Jacobs maniacs and the Fendi freaks can all make it safely to the other side and satisfy their fashion cravings and undying needs of buying the new collections. And, also quite important, I can now safely slide over the Dam Runway and reach my job without cobblestones printed all over my cheeks.

P.S. Dear God, please keep the snow away from Holland, as our Dam Runway gets just a tiny bit slippery when it's all white outside. (Don't even ask; I am so not telling you that story.)


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