I heart all things pretty

Palladium Breakfast

2011-04-21T10:21:00.000+02:00

After doing a photoshoot for Palladium wearing their leather booties, I was invited to the press breakfast at the attic of the brandstore of Amsterdam. The place was completely ravished, not on purpose though, but fitting the brand like the perfect pair of Palladiums. The raw and urban feel dominated with concrete walls and rusty handles. An exploration indeed...

Check out all the photos here.

And also check out the new video with Odette Annable wearing Palladiums summer boot on an exploration for hidden gems in LA

the Dam Runway

2011-03-02T13:45:00.002+01:00

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.)

Reminiscing

2011-02-23T13:17:00.002+01:00

Me, Chiara (The Blonde Salad) and Sabrina (AfterDRK) for Fashiolista after a delicious breakfast at my new fav place Vin et Fleurs in NYC.

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Fashion Week Madness

2011-02-15T18:38:00.001+01:00

I just arrived from NYC, where I had the pleasure of going to amazing parties and dinners with Fashiolista's blogger friends. Right after our Amsterdam Fashion Week adventure, to which Fashiolista had invited five special guests (Denni - The Chic Muse, Alix - The Cherry Blossom Girl, Louise - Miss Pandora, Andy - Style Scrapbook and Carolina - Fashion Squad), it was now time for the Big Apple...

A couple highlights of the past few weeks:

- Attending the opening soiree of Jan Taminiau's surreal Haute Couture show

- Getting to do some vintage shopping with these five huge fashiolista's

- Enjoying a wonderful meal at Lionnoir

- Showing all the amazing highlights Amsterdam has to offer by boating through the canals with the G-star boat and enjoying the coziness of being amongst so many inspiring girls

- Flying out to NYC for fashion week and being able to hit the runways

- Attending the Evolving Influence Conference hosted by Independent Fashion Bloggers

- Exploring NYC's cosy restaurants such as Antique Garage and Vin et Fleurs (a little bit in love with the French owner)

- Catching up with old friends

- Doing some proper shopping with Afterdrk's Sabrina at Bloomingdales (bought these sunnies from Super), Scoop (where Sabrina bought this amazing Helmut Lang top) and Roundabout, where they have super reduced designer pieces.

- Getting to meet lots of cool people

- Going to the bloglovin' Awards and having Chiara of the Blonde Salad win the award for newcomer of the year!

Check out all the pics of these past few weeks in the coming days at the official Fashiolista blog and start loving right away!

Photos stolen from Afterdrk

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Talking to the moon

2011-02-05T00:28:00.000+01:00

Although it's already February, it's still a new year and a new day, and thus time for a change. Over the past month I've put some thought into my new year's resolutions, but struggled coming up with good ones. And as I heard the Maya's made a miscalculation, I feel pretty relieved I don't have to worry anymore about accomplishing every life goal in one year. I still have until 2220 to let all my dreams come true.

That's why I have made the decision of letting things come as they are, taking them one by one. Letting go has never been harder, but also feels so much nicer.

"Thank God the Maya's made a miscalculation: now I have at least until 2220 to let all my dreams come true."

I must say, life in 2011 has been really kind to me so far. I've made a couple amazing new friendships, met some really cool people, attended fabulous parties and shows and now Fashiolista is even letting me go to NYC...

Right now I couldn't be happier and more grateful for all this goodness that is coming my way. However, it does scare me a little, as the saying 'all good things come to an end' keeps whispering its way in my mind. All good things may come to an end, but let's hope that will only happen somewhere at the end of December, when a new year will mean a new start again. I promise to catch all the glistening confetti with my tongue.

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New York...

2011-02-04T23:40:00.001+01:00

It's a fact. I'm going to NYC for fashion week for Fashiolista... Too excited to breathe.
What to wear?!

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You know your life

2011-01-23T20:06:00.001+01:00

is taken over by fashion week and all its preparations, when...

... you find yourself discussing the pro's and con's of different photographers with your colleague on the phone, while running like a maniac on the cross-trainer, all sweaty and out of breath.

... in the middle of the night, you suddenly sit up straight, wide awake with one name on the tip of your tongue: "Yves... Saint... Laurent..." you whisper slowly, and the corners of your mouth start to curl. That's one outfit decided upon, you think pleased with this sudden brainwave. Completely relaxed you lie down again, to fall asleep with a huge grin on your face. Only to realise the next morning your name is not miss Roitfeld and you're actually a student with corresponding budget.

... making a doctors appointment you hear yourself saying: I'm very sorry, but there's no way I can come by next week as it's freakin' fashion week!

... you start seeing the sheep you pass while on a train ride dressed in little red dresses and mint green cardigans.

... there are a couple dozens of little coloured stars in your bed, due to the creative minds of a certain fashion label who decided upon sending an invite that made your house look like an explosion of the universe. Even months later you'll still find those little stars under your couch/in your bathroom/in your wallet.

... you catch yourself thinking: what will the goodie bag look like? Instead of: what will the collection look like?

Amsterdam International Fashion Week: I'm ready for you.

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Marc Jacobs intern

2010-12-18T11:50:00.004+01:00

I was wandering around a large bookstore, looking for the fashion books department, when I stumbled upon two cute little girls. The eldest one was walking her younger sister in a bugaboo stroller, and was motherly blabbing to her. They seemed alone, and I decided to have a little chat with the girls. As they looked up to me, I stared into two pairs of radiant blue eyes and angel like faces, framed by bouncy brown curls. We sat down on some little steps in the store, with the stroller parked next to us. Upon turning my head to the left, I noticed their mother: she was absorbed in the book she was holding, apparently forgetting all about the world around her. I recognized this feeling of being completely engrossed by a piece of paper and words - and so I turned back to the little girls and smiled. Let's give her a couple more minutes.

We were in the middle of an interesting discussion about the tea-party they just had at one of their mum's friends and how it resembled the mad tea-party that Alice came across in Wonderland, when the mum suddenly came rushing towards us. "I'm so very sorry that you were burdened with my girls!", she cried. "I completely lost track of time and space," she apologetically said, continuing in a softer, more whispering voice: "and to be quite frank - also of my girls... I cannot believe that just happened!"

I reassured her it was no problem at all and they were very chatty and entertaining. On top of that, they provided inspiration: in what way does normal society resemble Alice in Wonderland's intriguing world of craziness? Obviously, I did not share this thought with her, as calling her friends crazy might leave a slight mark of repulsion.

"Then she said something that made my heart pound twice as fast as when unwrapping my Christmas presents, and that made my blood rush faster than a river bursting out of its dams"

She asked me if she could be of any help in the bookstore, as this was her favourite place to recover her breath after the superficiality of the world she found herself surrounded by daily. She quickly assured me that she would normally "go to the store alone. This honestly was the first time I ever lost sight of my girls". After I informed her on my hunt for the fashion books department, we started talking about my life as a fashion student, and my aspirations to be a writer for a big magazine. She was all ears. Then she said something that made my heart pound twice as fast as when unwrapping my Christmas presents (excluding a gift that holds the name of a particular French fashion house). It made my blood rush faster than a river bursting out of its dams. I felt like how champaign must feel when it's still in its bottle: impatiently waiting to explode, without holding back one single bubble - just dying to be out there in the real world. This lady explained she works for a company that publishes several magazines, such as some rather big shots that you all know. "We just launched Marc Jacobs' own magazine, and we're still looking for people. A good intern would be very useful at the moment. Perhaps you can send me some of your writings?" She looked at me with a big grin, probably laughing at the sight of this silly girl that had her jaw dropped to her chest.

But instead of hearing a divine hallelujah reverberate from high above me, I was rudely disturbed by some heavy hammer drill outside the bookstore. I could see the woman's mouth move, but could not hear a thing of the rest she was saying. And as I slowly found myself getting dizzy, she faded away to the background, and it got dark before my eyes. Damn it. That disturbing noise was no hammer drill - it was my freaking alarm clock.

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Fashion obsession: leather pads

2010-12-12T10:26:00.001+01:00

Perhaps this reminds me of my time as a child, when my mum would repair the holes in my clothes with endless love and patience. I suppose it has more to do with horse riding than with my childhood memories, but I love them anyways. My latest fashion obsession are (elbow) pads, preferably leather ones, but fake will do just fine too!

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Guess what...

2010-12-09T14:51:00.001+01:00

...I have some SUPER exciting news!

As I've mentioned before, the Dutch celebrate a sort of Christmas Eve on the 5th of December. And... I got my long desired Marc Jacobs watch!!! Yay!

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I wish...

2010-12-05T17:27:00.000+01:00

...I could say this was me back in the days.

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Some freaking dangerous shit, those leg-warmers.

2010-11-27T22:56:00.006+01:00

What do you think of the overknee trend? Personally, I love it. I think it's a much warmer alternative to those thin tights I normally wear. Because even though those might have stripes, dots or little hearts, they do not keep the cold away from my legs. And so, to me, overknees and leg-warmers are a yes this winter. I must warn you though; they might not always be the safest option...

The other week I bought a pair of cool, knitted, half grey and half black leg-warmers at H&M. I wore them to a party that night (cannot recommend - bloody hot!), and to school a couple days later (can definitely recommend - lots of compliments). But here's the thing: as I live in Amsterdam, we Dutchies tend to transport ourselves by bikes. And biking while wearing these leg-warmers comes with certain risks. Ever had loose laces while riding your bicycle? Exactly. It's freaking dangerous shit.

I had a similar experience yesterday, whilst riding to my friend's birthday dinner. I had just entered her street when I suddenly felt a strong force pulling my high heeled right foot down. It was as if someone from behind had grabbed my wedge and started pulling me from the back, making it impossible for me to cycle one meter more. I had to stop and step off, but simply couldn't. Apparently my leg-warmer had sagged all the way over my wedge and then twisted itself around my pedal... Whilst still sitting on my bike, I gave a pull to the warmer. No luck. A quick glance around ensured me no one was watching or secretly sniggering behind his curtains. After another three failed attempts, I finally found a way to step down, but - obviously... - not without landing gracefully on my knees. Thank god the dark started falling otherwise people would have surely noticed my warm, red cheeks.

Still on my knees, another quick pull wasn't helpful either. I tried twisting the warmer the other way, but only made it worse. Hopelessly I stared around. Cars were racing by, people on bikes rushed to their warm homes, and no one cared to help.

"It seemed the only solution was to undress myself right there and then."

Ha. Ha. Ok, so I got stuck. Doesn't matter. I coughed a few times. Then I produced a high, strange sound that was supposed to be some sort of nervous little laugh, but sounded like a newborn chick, and apologetically rolled my eyes to a passing lady who was walking her dog, as if surely everyone knows what it feels like to get stuck to your bike once every so often.

It seemed the only solution was to undress myself right there and then. Ignoring the sudden wind that attacked my leg whilst rolling down the leg-warmer, I bravely continued on my mission. Only to discover I had to take of my shoe first. While stumbling with my bike I unzipped my bootie, and as fast as I could took off the warmer. Whilst still balancing my way on the side of the bicycle lane, I now had one heel on (read: my new 13,5 cm high wedged boots...) and one foot on the ice cold pavement. After what felt like at least thirty minutes - but may have been a little less - I released the poor leg-warmer from its misery. Triumphantly I stretched my arm up in the air, holding my warmer as if it was a trophy I had just won for some exhausting athletic performance. My joy may have been sweet, it was also short, when I realised the rather unusual look I gave for passing strangers. I immediately dropped my arm and quickly inspected the sock. No holes or damaged bits. Completely relieved I put on my heel again, but just in time thought of the right leg-warmer I was still holding in my hands. I was not planning on making an even bigger fool out of myself by biking with only one warmer on. When everything was finally back in its original place, I jumped back on my bike.

I ensured myself no one had seen any of the previous behaviour. Completely satisfied with my discrete actions, I smiled and continued the last 100 meters to my friends doorstep. Then I heard someone fighting his laughs, and so I looked up to where it was coming from and noticed a group of at least six boys (read: hot seventeen year-olds may be way too young for a girl my age, in my heart I still feel fourteen). They were standing at the balcony above me and as soon as they saw me look up, they started laughing their heads off.

Instead of a leg-warmer, I deserve an actual trophy, as I have never cycled those 100 meters as fast as that night.

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Santa can you hear me?

2010-11-18T22:16:00.001+01:00

December is approaching fast and that means two things:

One, we should most certainly ~~not~~ ignore the coming cold and dress wherever we feel most fabulous in. Even if that means you will be likely to suffer from chronic goose bumps. And two, both Christmas and the Dutch holiday Sinterklaas (which is basically the same as Christmas but then early December. Yes - we get presents two times that month.) are getting closer and we need to start making our wish-lists.

I've always liked the day after Christmas the most. Normally, people get their presents in the morning on the 25th of December. However, as the Dutch also celebrate Christmas Eve on the night of the 24th, my family has always given each other our gifts during dinner that evening. The morning after, I would always order my presents in the most precious way, giving each and one of them the same amount of attention and love. The rest of the day I would simply lie on my belly on the floor and gasp at the precious little things that I had wished for so long and that I could now count as parts of my wardrobe. I would think of combinations with my cool Adidas sneakers, come up with occasions to which I could wear my amazing soft skinned leather jacket, and I would create the coolest looks in my head with a long wished for purple (I know, don't blame me.) pair of jeans. Being thirteen, those were the days.

However, being nearly ten years older today, I don't think things have changed so much. Let me explain.

Although I don't live in my parents house anymore, I share an apartment with three friends in the heart of Amsterdam. We each have our own bedroom and share one big dining/chill out spot and other necessities in the house (such as the kitchen, bathroom, laundry room etc). My bedroom is a mix and match of all things pretty and it is often called 'the treasure palace' by my flatmates or friends. That means, it might look a bit full at first, it's filled with precious little treasures that each have a special story and are placed where they are placed with a reason. My Moschino belt, for instance. It swings on a little hook inside my closet, so that every morning when I open it to pick out my look for the day, I start off with a smile. My vintage Dior purse hangs next to my necklaces, so that when I choose my jewellery in the morning, I get a glimpse of that timeless piece of work. (I've written an entire post ("fashion environment") about the likes and unlikes of my treasure palace a couple months ago, and perhaps it's best you read that in case you've gotten curious to what my room looks like...)

My shoes used to be stored in sight too, although I have a perfectly fine working storage box under my bed. I used to order my shoes in there once in a while, so that when I rolled the box from under the bed, I could take a look at all my lovely boots and sandals, heels and wedges, and all other footwear lined up one by one, smiling and winking at me. You might know this already too, because this was also one of my previous blog posts ("making excushoes").

However, most of the time my shoes are lying somewhere in my room, so that I don't forget to wear certain pairs and that I can take a look at them whenever I feel a little depressed by the winter's cold. It does make my bedroom look rather messy and, well, also quite full. And thus my mum came with the perfect solution, resulting in a deja-vu from that morning-after-Christmas: she bought me a shoe rack.

As soon as I received the rack I was too excited to think of anything else. I immediately placed all my shoes on it, playing with different textures and colours lined next to each other. It showcases my most amazing shoes; varying from mustard suede clog like wedges to insanely high, black leather booties (lovingly called my "porn boots" by friend F.) and my latest crushes: half black snake skin (front) and half black suede (back) ankle wedges with sturdy rubber soles. I switched the shoes around, squeezed a couple more pairs in, and after finding the perfect order, I sank down to the floor, sat in what we Dutch call the "kleermakerszit" (referring to the way tailors used to sit; just google it.), and stared at my shoe rack in utter devotion and admiration. For 45 minutes straight. Without winking one single time. Then my flatmate stormed in, rudely waking me out of my peaceful trance, only to make me realize it wasn't Christmas yet and reminding me more racks would be crucial if Santa would decide to send me some shoebox sized presents this year...

Love it!

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The twenty euro Chanel horror.

2010-11-11T01:24:00.000+01:00

So. I have this friend... She's very sweet and kind and well, she's just plain amazing - obviously, cause she's my friend. Anyhow, she's also mad about a certain French Fashion house known as Chanel. Rings a bell?

Before I continue, I must tell you that I need some advice on this. Some of this girl's friends happen to think she might be taking it a notch too far. They fear a true obsession, an addiction even. I, on the other hand, do not agree with them at all. I think it's very normal and healthy to long for a moss green suede 2.55 jumbo. Or a classic quilted black leather one. With a gold chain strap. And a delicate gold printed Chanel stamp on the inside of the flap. Anyhow, not all of my friends seem to think like me.

Ok. So this is the case. Yesterday the above mentioned friend ran into my other friend E.W.
E.W. had just returned from a lover's getaway in Thailand. She spoke about the incredible vintage market she went to, how cool it all had been and about her amazing finds. My friend listened with a big smile, and was very happy that friend E.W. had had such a great time.

E.W.:"You would have loved it, it was huge and everything was so cheap! They even had real Chanel bags for 20 euro."

Suddenly I freezed. Ehhh, I mean, my friend freezed. She freezed and turned her head, looking E.W. straight in the eyes, begging her to be joking: "20 euro!!?", she cried out. "20 euro?! A Chanel! For 20 euro?! A real Chanel!?", she screamed.

A little hesitant and uncertain E.W. looked at her and said: "Yes... a real Chanel for 20 euro." "And you didn't buy it for me!? A REAL CHANEL!?! FOR 20 EURO!" That was the moment when she snapped, tears sprang to her eyes, and suddenly it felt way too crowded in the hallway, with all the other students leaving the lecture room. She excused herself from E.W. and quickly ran to the exit, inhaling the fresh air as she made it outside. After a minute or two she refound control over her breathing, and leaned back to the brick wall.

A real Chanel bag, she thought depressed, for only twenty euro... That's the same I spend on an average day on groceries, or on two cocktails at Harry's Bar. One bra from Topshop is twenty euros, or two return train tickets to The Hague... A real Chanel bag...

However, after fifteen minutes or so she decided it was time to move on. Only quickly considering how much a ticket to Bangkok would cost and if it would be worth flying over the entire globe, she firmly shook her head and although not meant for others she accidentally said with a strict tone: "No!". A little embarrassed by all the surprised looks for talking out loud, she quickly re-entered the building. Upon seeing her friend E.W. they hugged and kissed and made up. Although E.W.'s last remark was still quite painful ("No, of course I didn't buy it, I mean, why would I need a Chanel?"), she firmly repeated her new life mantra: "There are more important things in life than Chanel. There are more important things in life than Chanel."

And I agree. I think. Right?

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I never said I don't like cars.

2010-11-09T21:43:00.000+01:00

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I've stopped waiting for Friday.

2010-11-07T18:32:00.000+01:00

Look at you. You're young. And you're scared. Why

are you so scared? Stop being paralyzed.

Stop swallowing your words. Stop caring what

other people think. Wear what you want. Say

what you want. Listen to the music you want to listen

to. Play it loud as fuck and dance to it. Go out

for a drive at midnight and forget that you have

school the next day. Stop waiting for Friday. Live

now. Do it now. Take risks. Tell secrets. This life

is yours. When are you going to realize that

you can do whatever you want?

Text from: My Cinderella Dreams

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I'd like a pound of Portobello's please.

2010-11-05T22:12:00.001+01:00

Portobello Market; this Notting Hill based market is known for its fab vintage finds and appears to be a true hotspot for designers. It's been said some simply snatch a vintage Dior from one of the stalls to alter it in the most minimalistic way and throw it onto the catwalk. Designer diamonds, careful now, here's the fashion police.

I've not spotted any designers, but sure saw some diamonds. Enjoy.

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I don't mind being the black sheep.

2010-11-04T17:52:00.000+01:00

Totally and utterly in love with soft skinned black leather...

Love it!

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Love me just a little bit more.

2010-11-04T11:06:00.001+01:00

OMG. I have found myself a lover. And she's called London...

I just got back and cannot stop thinking about my next visit. Somehow there's a certain magnetic force in that city that keeps on pulling me back. Is it the shops? Maybe it's the British culture of politeness and high teas, rawness and industrialism, the perfect balance between high end homes and damaged minds. Perhaps that mix of street and chic is what attracts me. To me, it's perfect, this new lover. I just hope she loves me back.

Here's some inspirational street footage of my trip to lovely London.

I'd like a mini X Ray, please

Guess where I'll be moving to?

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I like my ABC's Amazing, Beautiful and Chic.

2010-11-03T22:42:00.000+01:00

I want a kid like this.

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I need a time machine.

2010-10-27T10:00:00.030+02:00

That I have classy grandparents is something that can be said without a doubt. Although my dad's father is no longer with us, I can still recall that both him and my grandmother from that side always paid a great effort in looking chic and elegant. No wonder my dad loves to groom and style his outfits - in a very manly way, that must be said.

My mums parents have a true fashion background, as I've mentioned in one of my earlier blogposts as well. My granddad comes from a family that started earning money with selling fabrics, somewhat before the Second World War. However, my great grandfather lost everything during those years of war, and had to rebuild his entire life and company after it. He had to start from scratch - yet again. My grandfather, who then looked like a Hollywood movie star fell head over heels in love with my grandmother, a true looker herself. They were only 21 when they married. It has proven to be true love, as they are still mad about each other. They always read my posts, and I know that this time too they're probably arguing over something silly, but deep in their eyes such a deep eternal love for each other is settled, that it gives me hope and fills me with joy. Anyhow, let's not get sentimental, as this was not at all what I wanted to write about today. My mums parents may be very happy and in love, they were also - and still are - extremely stylish.

After the war, my great granddad rebuild his fabric company, expanding it a little, which resulted in a boutique of womens hosiery in The Hague. My granddad gradually worked his way into the top of the fashion industry and turned the store into a womenswear boutique. He met Salvatore Ferragamo in Firenze, had meetings at the Gucci headquarters and was invited into Pucci's private palazzo for some champagne and some partying - the glamourous ones, how they did it in the 60s and 70s. Italian fashion started to rise in those years, and it was at that time that my grandfather started to run a successful business that even led to having the Dutch Royals as one of his customers.

My grandmother posing in her bathing suit
and pumps at the beach - 50s

After 40 years my grandfather decided to sell his business. With much pain in his heart he retired and started to enjoy a life that seemed less stressful; however, neither one of my grandparents ever lost their passion for fashion. When the company was sold I was only 11 years old, unfortunately too young to understand anything (I was not like Tavi Gevinson, I guess...) about fabrics, cuts and fits, although I did know there were certain items that were not nearly as special as other pieces. I wasn't allowed to enter the basement area of the boutique for example, I later learned that this was where Valentino and Dior were sold. And so when my mum had some business to attend and took me with her, I either hung around the atelier, while chatting with the "les petits mains" - to quote Kaiser Karl - or I was leaning on the white leather couches (it was the 90s!), completely silent and hypnotised: I gasped at the amazing dresses women were trying on while their husbands were drinking bubbles and smoking cigars. Whenever I read about Chanel, it reminds me of those years. Obviously I was way to young to fully grasp the idea of what was going on, and no doubt I have made it much bigger in my fantasies, but the glamourous 20s vibe was definitely still alive in my grandparent's boutique.

Whenever I am at their house for dinner or just a random visit, I wander around and look at all the black and white photo's; my grandmother posing in a typical 50s bathing suit at the beach, wearing her pumps, or the both of them striking a pose with their ski's while looking all styled to perfection. They fill me with inspiration and ambition, and although I cannot lift on the contacts that my granddad once established in the international fashion industry - unfortunately -, I know I will make it there once too.

[Please do not take any of the above described lifestyle as a form of bragging, I merely want to describe an era in time with the right sentimental feel to it.]

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Dedicated to the white tee.

2010-10-25T11:42:00.000+02:00

It's time for some serious confessions. I finally figured out why I am attracted to certain men and not to others. I know; eureka, hallelujah, amen - you name it.

Last Thursday I went out with the girls since it was Amsterdam Dance Event. The entire city was covered with little yellow tags showing where dance addicts could get their music fix. Obviously ADE attracts many tourists, but that's also the beauty of a week like this: everyone - regardless of sex, age or nationality - unites in name of the DJ.

However, at one point I was dancing to the hypnotizing tunes of a particular DJ, and although it was not white tee Wednesday, when I opened my eyes I found myself blinded by four white tees that were surrounding me. I looked at one very handsome white tee and smiled, continued my dance, turned my head, and noticed another one. I decided to send him a smile too. I walked to the bar and came across another two pairs of very good looking white tees; a little confused I walked along. The bartender - god was he handsome - was, not surprisingly, wearing a white tee. I came back with drinks and started dancing again; this time with a black tee. Somehow it didn't feel right and although I normally don't wish to discriminate, I turned to the white tee beside me and started chatting. But then another interesting white tee caught my eye, thus I apologized, smiled and mysteriously disappeared in the crowd searching to get another glimpse of that wonderful white wearer.

What more do you need?

I can go on and on about the delicious contrast between a good dark coupe and that almost luminous white tee. No worries, I won't.
I must admit, I felt like a butterfly that night: fluttering from one desirable white tee to the other. I never noticed how many differences there are in a simple white tee: you've got v-necks and crew necks, scoop necklines and sewn hems, short sleeves and long sleeves, tight fitted ones or those that loosely curl around the hems. It's an entire industry!

A plain white tee does the trick.

So... Care to impress me? Wear a plain white tee, and you'll be sure of some of my attention.

PS 1] The Urban Dictionary has some interesting definitions of the white tee.

PS 2] Please note: this is NOT what I mean by sexy white tees...

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Fashion obsession: hat it or forget it.

2010-10-20T01:47:00.002+02:00

Love it!

Love me filted or folded,

feathered or fine.

Just remember that whenever outside it's wet,

I don't mind protecting your pretty head.

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Inner frustration

2010-10-19T17:08:00.002+02:00

So. What to do when you're angry...? Several times today I've feared an explosion when confronted with those that have caused my bad temper. I have been frustrated to the bone these past days, and I know for a fact that if my classmates were to read this post, they can only guess why. Yes, it's study related.

Anyhow, I do find ways to deal with my aggressiveness: the kitchen has never looked cleaner, the bathroom had a make over and I washed my hair three times to calm down under the shower. That may seem a little absent minded, but although I am exhausted because of the inner frustration, I feel sharp and alert. I did however need something to cheer me up. And whenever I feel like this, there's only two things that can calm me down and put a serene smile on my face: an unlimited gift card to spend at a certain French maison at rue Cambon; or - much easier and way cheaper - pretty photography.

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Fashion obsession: backpacks

2010-10-16T11:48:00.000+02:00

Whether it's leather

Or made of canvas
The backpack she has

It's no confession
This is my latest fashion obsession.

[I must admit I have strong doubts about a career as a poet.]

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Hell yeah, London baby.

2010-10-14T11:42:00.019+02:00

In less than two weeks I'm finally going back to the place where I always feel happy, smiley and very much alive: London town baby! With two friends F. and A. we're about to set the city on fire.

Clockwise, starting from the upper left photo: glam gorgeous at Austique, Kings Rd;
fashion victim captured in real life at Duke of York Square; Iron wiring spotted close to
Tate Modern; Hydrangea and another sequinned top at Austique.
Photos by Emilie Sobels, London 2009

I cannot wait to go to Camden, to check out the very vintage stables, the cool and eccentric Londoners and original fashion finds. I want to wander around Chelsea, pretend to be very intellectual, art-loving and successful young ladies, drink tea at one of the little café's, let ourselves be amazed by the unusual works at the Saatchi, stare at the all the inspiring books at the little Taschen Bookstore and pay a visit to the lovely Austique Boutique on Kings Rd. Ofcourse a visit to Topshop cannot miss my to-do-list when in London, and although we will certainly take a peek at that insanely large one on Oxford Circus, I do prefer the Topshop in Kensington High Street. I want to pop into dark and grungy pubs, go to a show in West End, head to a club, enjoy a ride in a British taxi, because they are so cosy and cute and I have the best memories cruising the streets of London in a taxi. I want to check out Old Bond st for fashion inspiration, then head to New Bond st to shop. I want to spend hours in Notting Hill, at the Portobello Market and spot designer diamonds. I long to wander around the V&A, and eat a cupcake at the Hummingbird Bakery. I want to catch up with my friend J., who I don't see very often and who should give me a serious update of her recent whereabouts. I should visit the London University of the Arts, to check out if I want to take a course there. A lot on my to-do-list. But we will have over three entire days to fully enjoy all the lovely things London has to offer. Let's hope the best moments are those discoveries that are not yet on my to-do-list...

Now all we need is a place to crash. Any pillows available that we might lay our pretty little heads on?

Clockwise, starting from the upper right photo: Camden Town by night; Cruising the
streets of lovely London in J's Mini Cooper; 'Frock me!'-vintage surprise in Chelsea Library.
Photos by Emilie Sobels, London 2009

Clockwise, starting from the upper right photo: "When is it ok to kiss someone?
When they're rich."; Vivienne Westwood's little shop in Chelsea,
World's end; Happy at Hummingbird. Photos by Emilie Sobels, London 2009

DO YOU HAVE ANY MORE TIPS? LET ME KNOW!
For my Dutchies - check this link for an ode to my fave city in the world.

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Colour obsession: indigo

2010-10-13T11:03:00.000+02:00

I suppose all my AMFI readers know where I found my inspiration this time...

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Souvenir By AMFI: if only I could bring back those days...

2010-10-12T10:36:00.006+02:00

Photos by Danielle Kempen, Elza Wandler, Olivier Termijtelen, Maddie Raedts and Martine Johanna

As some of you might know, next to my job as fashion editor for Fashiolista, my blog and my studies, I also give all the love, energy and time that I have left to the By AMFI Statement Store. Every year a dozen of promising Fashion & Branding students are chosen to be active members of store's By AMFI team. There are several teams; Concepting, PR, Sourcing, 3D Design and my team Graphic Design (which means together with Fashiolista M., I design flyers, press releases, hand-outs, logo's, invites and posters.). Our Programme Director J. often calls us lovingly her By AMFI's.

Every three months the store gets an extreme make over and the concept switches to something entirely new and fresh. We just had the opening of the first concept that the new generation worked on: Souvenir By AMFI. It was a huge success, and not just because of the amazing products, the wonderful art made by Martine Johanna or the cool installations, although that obviously contributed. I believe that the love and effort from the By AMFI's, guided by our amazing mentors J., T., and O., filled the entire store with an energy that gives the visitors an immediate shot of inspiration. And that's impressive, if I may say.

Photos by Danielle Kempen, Elza Wandler, Olivier Termijtelen, Maddie Raedts and Martine Johanna

A little info about our new store concept Souvenir By AMFI (but make sure to check it out yourself at Spui 23, Amsterdam!) and some general info about the Statement Store:

Info
By AMFI is the Statement Store of the Amsterdam Fashion Institute that exhibits and sells products of our talents; students, teachers, alumni and friends. By AMFI is a community working together with the industry and society. Every 3 months a new concept is made up and a new environment is created, with new products from both inside and outside AMFI. Every theme is organized and realized by our young AMFI professionals, often reflecting a current theme in school.

Photos by Danielle Kempen, Elza Wandler, Olivier Termijtelen, Maddie Raedts and Martine Johanna

Souvenir
Souvenir By AMFI is our new store concept that brings you back to your childhood memories. The concept is inspired by Martine Johanna’s art and current illustrations. Symbols and organic shapes, but also fashion and art, the planet, life, love and death, are sources of inspiration to Martine Johanna. These aspects will be central in the store, and together with our specially sourced products they will bring the store to life.

Photos by Danielle Kempen, Elza Wandler, Olivier Termijtelen, Maddie Raedts and Martine Johanna

Just a handful of some of the amazing brands you can find in our Store:

[click on the brand's name to see its website]

by 1 oak

NON by Kim

Ted Noten

Studio Ruig
Barbara de Ru

Individuals
Barbara Munsel
Clare Creemers
Hilde Eijgenraam

Want to see us work? Check the Store on Wednesday nights!

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Fashion obsession: the simple tee

2010-10-09T09:01:00.001+02:00

You're not the boldest thing,
But you're all I want in Summer and Spring.

You may be simple and a little plain,
But, sweet tee, I love you all the same.

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Inspiring artist: Joseph Klibansky's colourful world of fun

2010-10-08T10:30:00.004+02:00

Joseph Klibansky's colourful world of fun

Remember how a couple weeks ago I paid a visit to the Rize Art Gallery in Naarden? It's that amazing space where pop art meets the 21th century. Got it? Well, I haven't told you about one of the main artists that was showcasing his work here. Joseph Klibansky is the artist responsible for crazy coloured works of art, mixing all kinds of media to create a lively, surreal, but very positive vibed atmosphere. He uses hundreds of photographs, that he edits on the computer and finally after printing, paints with neon colours before they are covered with resin: a shiny look that gives it the impression to be printed on glass.

Inspiring environment: the Rize
Art Gallery in Naarden

Singer Susanna Kay shows me the
wonderful world that artist Joseph Klibansky
has created. Curious to who this
blonde beauty is? An interview is
coming up soon, so keep checking
my blog regularly!

Upstairs: amazing art in the Rize Art Gallery continues

Heavy Traffic

High Flyers

They're Here

Colour obsession: greens

2010-10-07T12:14:00.000+02:00

From olive to army, and from moss to camouflage: I believe I have a slight colour obsession for the greens...

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They say the owner looks after the dog...

2010-10-06T09:14:00.000+02:00

A little less than a month ago, my family and I had to make the terrible decision of putting our beloved dog J. down. She certainly was the most special animal I have ever come across, reading your mind like no other, trying her very best to act as human as possible, and with her smile and funny habits she always made us experience a warm feeling of love. They say that after a while the owner starts looking after the dog, that they start resembling eachother, but I think that in our case it was just the other way around. Our baby J. wanted to be like my family so much, that she started to develop a serious interest in fashion.

I have always been obsessed with the world of outfits, looks and fabrics, but this didn't come as a surprise for my parents. With my granddad running a high class boutique that was known all over Holland and sold exclusive Celine's, Dior's and Ferragamo's – to name a few – and was able to count the Dutch Royal family as one of his clients, it was inevitable for me to end up intrigued by the wonderful world of fashion. Obviously my mum also has a flawless sense of style, but even my brother and – yes – even my dad is a true fashion addict. It's not unusual that we end up shopping an entire day as a family, and although my brother and dad have other ways of showing their interest, they both very much know how to appreciate a good pair of shoes, a nice classic coat or a cool watch. Even my dads shirts alone are ranged by colour and count at least 200 ones. Therefore I think our dog J. was definitely inspired by our love for the world of clothing, and so it came that one day when my bro and I were dressing her up, we noticed that she absolutely loved it. Note that she is not the usual dog that you've seen in clothes, like a chihuahua for instance. She was not the dog that would show her love of fashion outside the house, wearing little dresses on her walks, but she surely liked playing around with it. J. was a true huntersdog, a Welsh Springer Spaniel, a cutie and super goodlooking, but she always played it cool.

She was very particular though. She loved wearing my Ray Bans, but no way she would wear my cheap Primark sunnies. She couldn't get enough of my brothers baseball coat, but she despised my old H&M trench. She liked the handmade scarf from Egypt wrapped around her head, looking like a sophisticated Audrey H., or have my fave flowery headband on, and look as arrogant as one of the Gossip Girls. I've often wondered whether she liked chasing rabbits so much because of their delicious bite, or their delicious furry feel.

She was a crazy one, our baby J. And I am sure that wherever she is now, she's the number one star of the doggies runway show and loving every minute of it.

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To all my loved ones

2010-10-03T14:28:00.001+02:00

Sometimes someone special crosses your path. You end up talking about the moments of happiness in your life, the memories of times you would rather forget, the goals you have set for yourself. And with a shock you suddenly realize this is a very rare encounter, this is someone you will always remember and cherish. Because it doesn't happen every day that you meet a person who will always be there for you. Someone who travels hours on end to show up at your event, because she knows it matters to you. Someone who makes sure you are safely brought home, after a night when you had far too much to drink. Or when you feel like shit, someone who takes you by the hand and pours you a good strong wodka and listens to your endless stories without ever interrupting. Because in the end, moments like those are the ones that truly matter: when your friends show you their love and make you feel happy and grateful. So that one day you can return the favour.

In loving memory of H.

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Inspiring design

2010-09-30T19:56:00.001+02:00

Inspiring design by Yoav Avinoam

BIOGRAPHY (copied from website)
Yoav Avinoam was Born (17.2.1980) in Petah Tiqva, Israel. His interest in industrial design is rooted in his childhood passion for cars aesthetics that transformed, later on, to his interest in design. In 2005 after a year of traveling in India, he started his studies at the Bezalel Academy of art and design in Jerusalem. In 2007 he studied for a semester at the Politecnico of Milan. In 2007 he did an internship at leading Israeli designer Ezri Tarazi and in 2009 was hired for a full time job. In 2009 he graduated from Bezalel, for his Graduation project Yoav designed the Shavings stool and coffee table, a series of furniture made by pressing sawdust and resin into a mold. Each piece is unique relying on the inventory of wood shavings and the semi open mold. His work was selected to be in Israel`s Designers of the future exhibition in Tel Aviv. In 2010 Yoav won 3rd place in the Massimo Martini design award “the intelligent hand”, a design competition made in collaboration with MACEF Milan and DesignBoom for his Shavings project. Yoav Avinoam lives and works in Tel-Aviv, Israel.

Colour obsession: rusty red

2010-09-25T20:48:00.000+02:00

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Hospital horror: crush turns into crash

2010-09-20T23:55:00.003+02:00

Ever from the moment my baby and I laid eyes on each other we were inseparable. We would spend long mornings in bed together, while enjoying our morning ritual. We would have a Nespresso - what else? - and cuddle up under the covers. He's very much a pleaser, my baby, always trying to make me happy and to put a smile on my face. But we don't just find the action on those long lazy mornings in bed; we also explore cities together, we travel the world side by side. We fall asleep on long train rides, and we move a bit closer to each other when it gets colder outside. We're connected, my baby and I. He loves me, and I love him.

That's why last Friday was such a doomsday. Even though it started out fantastically - a glimpse of sun was peeking through the curtains and it was one of thóse mornings - it ended up in hospital horror and hell. While chatting my baby suddenly had a stroke. A serious one. He was shaking, then completely paralysed, and shut down. He didn’t move an inch. I started crying and figured the only cure to this horrible condition was to give him an electric shock, a cardio version operation, to defibrillate him. Perhaps then he would come back to life! If only I knew how...! Before I could undertake any action, my baby slowly came back, but was still in a rather strange state of mind. I quickly made a hysterical phone call, and was advised to pop over at the nearest first aid point. And so, there we went.

I ran into the clean white space, with my baby, while constantly stroking him. The doctors examined him briefly and ran some tests, before coming with the devastating result: "He'll be ok, m'am", the doctor said, in his long white, three pocket cotton coat (unfortunately no McDreamy, more a McAcne) as he began his outcome. "The only bad news is that it might take five to ten working days before he’ll be its normal self again." I couldn't believe it. After first thinking my baby had died, this was of course the best news ever. But why did I still have a strange, unsettled feeling in the gut of my stomach...? Don't get me wrong, obviously I was super happy to hear my love would soon be alive and kicking again, but ten whole days without him would just make my life so empty, so meaningless... I knew it was the only right thing to do, but when handing him over to the doctors my heart broke. "Oh baby," I cried hysterically, "don't be scared, I'll be seeing you soon!".

I know that I've only become part of his family recently, but they have been so friendly and kind to me, that it feels like I've known them for years. Only eight more working days before I get to see my baby Mac, the Apple of my eye, again.

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Stitching with style: Lesage Haute Couture

2010-09-16T23:10:00.000+02:00

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Colour obsession: beet red

2010-09-15T10:49:00.000+02:00

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Uniting the nude in Amsterdam

2010-09-14T11:45:00.002+02:00

Model Claire Granlund wearing THE heels and a dress designed by Iris van Herpen as well.

Iris van Herpen's designs rarely cover up the entire body. Strips of leather, small cut pieces and little peeks and openings make sure there's always some skin showing. Ever since I was blown away by her show at the opening soiree of Amsterdam Fashion Week, I'm a big fan of this very talented Dutchie. Perhaps nudity is not the first feature you think about when describing van Herpen's style, however shoe designer Rem Koolhaas thought it would be an interesting collaboration between van Herpen and his shoe label United Nude, and so he decided to unite the nude. The result: a pair of extremely sexy, amazingly high heeled booties, with the attitude of Haute Couture and the edge of a kinky SM whip to it. Available in two colours - cream and black - this collaboration asked for a celebrating party.

The result of the collaboration in cream

Blogger buddies Yara and Andy

Fashion fabulous model and designer Jean-Paul Paul

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Evolving Influence

2010-09-13T09:44:00.000+02:00

Speakers include: Style Bubble, The Cut, Bryan Boy,
Cupcakes and Cashmere, Street Peeper,
Bloglovin', Gala Darling, LOOKBOOK

I know one of my first blogposts was about Tavi, and how I thought it went a bit overboard when magazines were looking at her outfits to get a glimpse of new trends. But, it's a simple fact that bloggers nowadays are gaining more and more influence in the fashion industry, which is why I was very sad that I couldn't fly to NYC after being invited by IFB (Independent Fashion Bloggers) to listen to the 'debate' between famous fashion bloggers. Luckily a little video was composed of the Evolving Influence conference. Click play to view.

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Multi Culti

2010-09-12T11:06:00.000+02:00

New York vibe mixed with

Parisien art inspired by amazing Africa

John Galliano has five on his front lawn, the Kube hotel in Paris has a couple, as well as Sharon Stone and Pierre Cardin, who are all big fans. Predators in shocking colours like neon pink, risky red, bold black and shiny silver, represent the pop-art movement of the 21st century.

Singer Susanna Kay is a little hesitant as well

Richard Orlinski is the artist responsible for bringing the wild life of Africa to the fashion world. Sculpting very sexy crocodiles and panthers for his 'born wild' collection, they're just as fashionable as a new pair of Louboutins. I was at the press opening of the Rize Art Gallery in Naarden this week, where Orlinski was exhibiting his work. This French sculpter, born in Paris, made a huge impression. In the New Yorkish gallery setting, the works came to life and for a moment I felt tempted to bounce back when first seeing the big mouth of the nearly two meter long crocodile, even though the animal was a shocking pink.

Mozart Guerra's target: a soft strokable rhino

But there's more wild life in the Rize Art Gallery to be seen: Mozart Guerra makes your head spin and hypnotizes you completely. His 'target' is a rhino completely covered in black and white strings, so real, it's hard to withstand the urge to stroke its forehead. Its wrinkles, its ears and its mouth, are so perfectly refined, that you can only imagine going crazy after setting up the first rows of black and white strings...
These tones mix very well, and from a distance you get the real greyish colour that rhinos normally carry.

Mozart Guerra's monkey's

This leaves me with only one thing to say: twice a month this gallery has a 'long weekend', which means it's open to the public from thursday to monday, showing all its amazing and provocative works of art, the way you find it in NYC.

More about other inspiring artists at the Rize Gallery next week...

Guaranteed to scare unwanted visitors off: the born wild collection by

Richard Orlinksi is so much more than just a funky accessory in the house.

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Intimate get together: Anne de Grijff

2010-09-11T10:59:00.032+02:00

Photo's by Press Only & Fashiolista (Maddie Raedts and Emilie Sobels)

Fall is coming, and with that so are the new fall collections. Launch parties, cocktail get togethers and collaboration celebrations fill the air of Amsterdam with fashion vibes.

Invitation - click to enlarge

This week designer Anne de Grijff launched her collection for F/W 10 and gave a sneek preview of her S/S 11 designs. I immediately loved the deep indigo, heavy silk looking jumpsuit with a triangle cut open back. The leather black pants with elegant silver zips on the back pockets and at the sides were also worth a well meant 'yes!'.

It was a little crowded in Kabinet, a store in de Herenstraat in Amsterdam, that sells fashion design, but also does collection launches like tonight on a regular basis. Delicious drinks and bites were served to the well dressed guests. Highlight of my evening: posing with hero and Dutch shoe designer Jan Jansen!

Posing with hero and Dutch shoe master Jan Jansen

Light Shadows from Petrovsky & Ramone on Vimeo.

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Colour obsession: mustard

2010-09-08T17:10:00.000+02:00

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Fashion Fairy Godmother

2010-09-05T11:59:00.004+02:00

My mum has a lot of different friends. Most of them live in our hometown, a little town close to The Hague, where the parliament of the Netherlands is seated. Others live in Athens, Lausanne, Turkey or in Paris. 'La Parisiene' has just moved back to The Netherlands, and with that, so has her closet.

BLABLABLABLA

Last weekend I was at my parents house for my dads return from a long businesstrip. At dinner my mum informed me about the fact that her friend M. had moved in her new house and - when I was about to take a bite - that she was cleaning out her closet. I freezed. My fork hung still in the air in front of my open mouth for a minute as I stared at her with awe. She kept on eating. After I realized my chin had nearly dropped onto the table, I quickly took a bite, but almost choked. Both my dad, my mum and my brother were now staring at me, as I was bright red and coughing and hiccuping like a wounded wolf. Not caused by lack of cooking skills that I unfortunately inherited from this part of the family, simply because the news that my mum had just thrown on our dinner table as if it was nothing, was enough to make my heart miss a couple beats and to let my blood pressure raise within seconds to heights it had never been before.

BLABLABLABLA

"Why don't you call her," my mum asked, still a little surprised by my performance at the dinner table, "and ask her if you can come over to see what's she's doing with all of her things?" Before I tell you all about the phone call, let me first enlighten you with why my dinner had been so rudely disturbed by my bodies severe attack. Friend M. is a very nice friend of my mums. Although I've only met her a couple of times, I know she dresses in the most amazing long - but tailored - open cutted beet red suede coats, carrying creamy Chanels, and wearing luscious Prada boots. Not tacky, vulgar or trivial at all, no no, friend M. always looks as if she just stepped out of her gorgeous car, with her gorgeous purse after a long shopping weekend away with her - ofcourse - gorgeous husband. Can you expect anything else than immaculate taste from someone who's spent years in London and Paris? Anyhow, perhaps now you understand why I was so anxious seeing what she would do with all the things that were either too last season or just not her taste anymore. So I made 'the call'. She was ever so kind, and invited me over for coffee the next morning. Like a child who's too excited to sleep the night before his birthday, I felt tempted to jump on my bed and bounce around. After the first jump however, I became a bit too self conscious and quickly looked around my door post to see if anyone had heard or seen me.

BLABLABLABLA

After a night of wild dreams about - what else - a supermarket filled with Perfect Pradas, Gorgeous Gucci, Classic Chanels and Mindblowing Missonis, I woke up all sweaty and heavily breathing. I don't say this too often, because it you would mean you'd really impressed me; but what a night! After a quick coffee (not the best idea as I suppose I could've gone for days without caffeine on the thought of where I was heading in 30 minutes...), I went to friend M.'s place. She opened the door looking more stunning than ever; this woman, after having two children who are now nearly my age, stood in the dooropening in a tight pair of jeans, unbelievably high (another thing I don't say very often) wedged sandals, the perfect white silk blouse and a gorgeous long turquoise and blue knitted cardigan. Finishing touch: humble Chanel hangers in both ears, a necklace that I have too (but mine's fake), and cute gold Vuitton bracelets, very elegant, very simple. My head tilted a bit to the right, I smiled with content and quickly came to senses when she started speaking to me.

BLABLABLABLA

"I have tons of Chanels and you are always welcome to borrow any of them"

BLABLABLABLA

After another coffee (yup. Welcome ADHD, nice to meet you. (huh?)), in the lounge (LV cityguide on the table!) we went up the stairs, to her heavenly kingdom. A kingdom where money doesn't set the rules, but fashion freedom that had arrived from Rue Cambon, Avenue des Champs-Élysées, Brompton Road, Rodeo Drive, Via Montenapoleone, Calle de Serrano and 5th Avenue. "As you probably understand", she started, "I have a daughter of about the same age as you, and she's developing a serious handbag addiction. So if you don't mind I'll keep the bags, but I have tons of Chanels, and you are always welcome to borrow any of them." Funny, as I write down what she literally said, I notice this may sound spoiled to you, but the way she said it, it was just a very generous offer from one fashion addict to the other. Or perhaps my brain was a bit blurred and foggy because of the treasures that lay in front of me. "Pick anything you like," she said, pointing at a corner in her walk-in-room (That's right, a walk-in-room. Not a walk-in-closet.) that had neat little piles of clothes, a couple jackets on hangers, some bags, some shoes and some accessories all carefully picked and put together. I felt a bit uneasy and very, very greedy, but my curiosity won. I tried on Pucci blazers, Gucci sandals, and dresses with black laced tops and satin bottoms. I looked at myself in the mirror walking with Louis Vuitton bags, with Prada purses and in Missoni jumpers. I stared at Dior belts around my waist, Chanel earrings in my ears and perfect pearls around my neck. “I am so glad that I can make someone who's interested in fashion happy,” she cried enthusiastically. “I know! Me too!” I cried back. “And I'm serious, if you ever like to borrow one of my Chanels,” she continued “just call me, don't worry, I like my things to be worn. I also have a marvelous Marc Jacobs dress, and very cool Chanel earrings with huge golden fives in it.”

Pretty Pucci has captured my heart years ago

BLABLABLABLA

After I came home with two bags filled with fab finds, I sunk into the couch and sighed. Wheter God exists or not, I do know that I very much like Fashion Fairy Godmothers. And I know that if I work real hard, I can be a Fashion Fairy Godmother to one of my friends daughters someday as well. Can't wait... BbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbLABLABLABLA

BLABLABLABLA

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I'm so excited...

2010-09-04T14:12:00.002+02:00

... and I just can't hide it.

I know, I know, I know, I know baby I want you.
I want to love you, feel you, wrap myself around you.
I want to squeeze you, and please you.

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Fashion Environment

2010-09-02T19:01:00.002+02:00

This past Monday was the start of a new year at fashion school (AMFI - Amsterdam Fashion Institute). With a semester called 'Fashion Environment', I came to think about my own fashion environment. Basically speaking, you could say that my environment exists of a couple sectors: first there's the school, that's obviously a great fashion environment for me. It fills me with knowledge about important fashion brand strategies, the tales and truths of the industry and it teaches me how to design a smart communicating lay out. Next to that it secures my future as a fashion professional, it also secures my sense of style, in a way that there's not much chance I am completely off with latest trends. Having such wonderfully well dressed boys and girls wandering around the school, even a child could spot trends or see fashion statements that are worth keeping an eye out for, pop up their heads way before they hit the highstreets. You might think morning life in front of your closet picking your outfit for the day has gotten harder ever since I became a Fashion student, the opposite is the case. Since now my inspiration has lead me to believe that everything is possible, I make bold choices and decisions. Perhaps some are a bit over the top, but who's judging? AMFI may seem like a runway to others outside of the fashion environment, to us it's just a place where we can express ourselves and steal some inspiring styling shots from each other.

Next to school, my job is part of my fashion environment. Being the editor in chief for Fashiolista (God, do I love saying that!), I am asked to go see collection previews, art gallery openings and other fashion related events. I get to meet amazingly interesting and inspiring people in the industry for interviews or other features (read here about our latest cool blogger Suze from fashion blog Hold Your Breath) and I am allowed to go to Fashion Week!

Seeing my friends is another piece of the pie called my fashion environment. My friends inspire me with their wise words and wisdoms about life and love. We can chat for hours about the drama that troubled men have caused in our lives, but we can easily switch to the new knitted and leather A/W collection that has just come in stores at Zara, and then keep this subject on for couple hours or so. The hopes we all have for the future, the shared ambitions, the wish to let our fashion environment expand over the years, fills me with a firm believe that we'll all make it there someday.

That leaves me with the last fashion environment to discuss, which is also the one that inspired me to write this post. As some of you may know, I live in a student apartment in Amsterdam, with three roomies (or I should say flatmates, as we all have our own room) that make life a little less boring and much more comforting when you find yourself stumbling along those three stairs with a striking pain in your left heel after drinking too much wodka ("with a hint of a fresh squeezed lime, please?") and walking far too long or dancing way too fierce on your new moss-green leather wedged ankle booties (laced up!). They hear my overenthusiastic stories when I come home, sink down to the kitchen floor, only to give a two-hour speech about the blue eyes of a certain famous singer I just stared in the eyes. They also soothe me when this singer is declaring his love for a certain editor - though not an editor for Fashiolista.

Anyhow, I am wandering off. I wanted to talk about my domain in the house: my bedroom. This is definitely a huge part of my fashion environment, it's where I choose my outfits and where I write my posts, where I can read books and mag's and where I work on school assignments, where I can close the door and be in my very own dreamy world for hours on end. It sometimes feels quite personal when someone enters this world of dreams and hopes that I've created, as they are MY dreams and hopes, and I often feel quite aware of what's to see in my room. It's filled with books, cramped with shoes and packed with little bits and bops.The walls are covered with frames of antique fashion drawings, old black and white photos, a newspaper ad from the 80s from my grandfathers boutique and I think I made clear to anyone who enters my room I'm quite the Chanel fan. My room reflects who I am, organized in my own way, and interested in a broad range of things. It also reflects my way of dressing and I've often heard that my bedroom is an exact replica of who I am as a person. This makes me smile.

Photos by Emilie Sobels

Not completely random I came to think about my bedroom as my largest and most personal fashion environment, as my assignment for the coming five weeks is to design a living room box - or in my case a bedroom box, as my targetgroup is teenagers - in which you can clearly see whose special space it is. That means mini beds and mini desks, but what else? If you're in the age group 13 - 20 years, please inspire me and perhaps you'll find your tribute in my bedroom box...!

Photos by Emilie Sobels

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Colour obsession: soft salmon

2010-08-31T10:32:00.004+02:00

Click on the image to see where you can purchase these fab finds
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2010-08-29T10:31:00.000+02:00

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Fancy file

2010-08-28T09:57:00.001+02:00

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Autumn Wishlist

2010-08-27T11:54:00.008+02:00

Autumn's coming... And although I will definitely miss the sun, I must admit I'm a true autumn girl. I love suede and leather, I adore the color palet of the changing seasons and I'm a big fan of layering. And now I can start wearing my tights, cosy gloves and knitted headbands again. To be completely honest, I cannot wait...!

Nudes, beet red, soft salmon, moss green, ink blue and oker yellow... Pick your favourite!
Just click on the picture to love it at Fashiolista and to see where you can purchase your fab find.

PS Just bought A-MA-ZING suede moss green high laced ankle boots with a wedged heel. Pic will follow...

A walk in the forrest on a stormy Sunday afternoon. Drinking some steamy hot tea and sitting at the fireplace under a sheepskin blanket. Autumn, you're my friend.

Check out Fashiolista for more stylish autumn looks. Get inspired...
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Silly sirens have put a spell on me.

2010-08-26T09:47:00.001+02:00

Sometimes a good chat with your friends can reveal sudden insights. Still in gorgeous Greece, I found myself lying on a sunbed the other day, one friend on my left, the other on my right. It's close to six o'clock, when the light turns a bit softer, but the sun is still shining its fierce rays of heat on the wavy sea. We're daydreaming about what we would do if we suddenly had ten million in our pocket, whispering our names, impatiently waiting to be spend. One friend would buy a nice house in Amsterdam where she and all her friends could then live, the other said she would travel the world, and I – obviously – said I would fly to Chanel to get my long loved classic purse. Oh and a Mini Cooper and a pair of Louboutins, please. Not to mention the walk-in-closet we would all built in our new bought villa. (“I'd have a palazzo in Florence, a stylish beach villa in Ibiza and a cosy chalet somewhere in the Alps.” dreams friend B.)

After a deep sigh, the dream of having such wonderful things, was rudely disturbed by a rather unpleasant feeling that slowly came upon all of us. Was it embarrassment? Or just plain uneasiness? At the same time we all realized how shallow our dreams were, and we were getting more and more philosophical as the sun was sinking deeper in the sea. No, we're no saints, so this post won't preach about giving the ten million to charity – which is a good spend, but it's not what made us realize the silliness of our dreams.

We came to talk about what really drives us in life. Is that the sight of having so much money you can buy everything you like? Or is there more?

On a – perhaps called decadent by some – deserted little beach on one of Greece's most pretty islands, with nothing more to do than sleep or stare into the sea, intense talks can start showing their face. Whether you agree or not, when friend W. reveals she loves to be a mother of five and be happily married, living somewhere under the Tuscan sun, it makes you go deeper and deeper into your own ambitions and aspirations of life. Buying a boat for your brother, or a classic vintage Porsche for your dad might seem the first things you'd like to achieve, but when it comes down to it, the deeper side is that you'd love to share your wealth, whether that's in money or in other ways. Or the fact that you like a somewhat decadent lifestyle could be seen as ok as long as you keep appreciating the specialness of the act. The things I want out of life are happiness in what I do for a living, making it motivating and exciting to go to work; seeing the most beautiful places of the world in – yes, I'll admit it, I might be a bit superficial – a way not many get to see it. Not to be able to brag about it, but just to feel pampered, to feel special and luxuriated. Driving speedboats with friends, drinking champaign, blowing up our speakers with some relaxing tunes. Swimming under waterfalls in hidden spots. Going to Place Vendôme in Paris and walking into one of the most amazing jewelery stores to have your hubbie say: “go pick out the one thing you like best”. And then see yourself running around the store as excited as a child can be in a toy store. Only to find that you're not the person for huge diamonds and stones, but rather wear something more humble and elegant, and so end up getting a raised eyebrow by the before mentioned hubbie, who quickly turns back to normal and closes the deal. Or what about getting an invite for a special fashionparty in Paris, London or NY and being able to meet all of those you've so much wanted to meet? Being dressed in an amazing vintage Valentino, smiling so much that at the end of the night it feels as if you've been doing drugs, high on euphoria and your jaws caught in that smile so tightly it's nearly impossible to stop.

How is it that this island somehow makes me daydream endlessly? Sirens, have you put a spell on me?

Love, Emilie

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Dream on baby.

2010-08-18T11:35:00.004+02:00

My dear readers,

Holiday has made me lazy, with no Internet other than a lousy wifi connection in a random cafe, I can't be bothered to actually sit down and write... Sorry for that. However, I am excited to go back to work and be the ambitious fashion journalist that I was before this Greek mentality hit me. It has been by far the most relaxing holiday, especially after a year that consisted of so many intense moments with new people, new insights and new worlds. I now know that if you envision your life the way you think it should be, everything is possible. With a little hard work, that is. I believe that that - hard work -, drive and passion are the keys to success. Reaching for the sky is no longer a silly dream, it's an actual goal that I am sure I will achieve one day. A couple days before I left for sunny beaches and bright blue skies, I got a phone call from fashiolista that I had been promoted to editor-in-chief! And although my plane left at an inhumane time (05.00 - early rise birdies!) I couldn't stop myself from wandering around the airport with an insane grin.

My friends were more sane and booked a later flight, but I never mind flying on my own. It always makes me feel quite grown-up, clicking my heels on the tiles of the airport, carrying my little carry-on suitcase and drinking a coffee on the go. I always fantasize about what people think when they see me walking on my own. 'Perhaps she's a fashion stylist for a magazine and is off to a sunny deserted island to style a photoshoot.' 'That girl is obviously out to Thailand to check out a new Spa resort to write about.' Or: 'Maybe she's on her way to see her loved one and she'll be reunited with him when the plane hits ground. They'll stay in bed for a weekend of intimate cuddling and passionate sex, only getting out to catch a glimpse of the sunset and a starry nights sky at his garden rooftop terrace, before heading back to reality.'

I never allow myself to think about what they are more probably thinking. Things like: 'Why the fuck would someone put on heels at 3.30 in the morning if she's just in an airplane the entire morning?!' Or: 'God. That poor girl's all alone, she looks like a total workaholic without any friends or a real life.'

My friend (because I am NOT that last stated girl who has no friends!) once told me that visualizing is realizing. So fuck it, I'll just keep thinking that I look adorable in my black canvas wedges, clicking away, wearing my new fave pair of satin loose paisley printed harems and a wide tee, tucked in the waist band of my trousers. I'll be that fashion journalist that I envision myself to be, I'll be whoever I want to be. Not to be able to say: "Yes. I am now living my dream.", because frankly I am already living it. But just to be happy with who I am.

A last confession; I am actually sitting under the arches of a Venetian influenced building, drinking a delicious espresso macchiato, once every so often lifting my head up to the street and the people in search for the right words while typing this. That lousy cafe is actually one of the most beautiful places in Corfu Town, inspiring me with hopes and dreams that I desperately felt like sharing. And guess what? I am already visualizing peoples opinion about that girl who looks so very adventurous, sitting at a table, with her white rayban clubmaster sunglasses on, a lace scarf tied loosely in her uncombed hair giving it that nonchalant beach look. She MUST be a journalist, writing her next bestselling article that she's about to send to one of the magazines she's freelancing for.

Ah. Dream on baby. May all my dreams become reality one day.

Love, Emilie

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Special summer's treat

2010-08-12T13:33:00.002+02:00

It's a fact: my summer holiday has officially started. Only a couple weeks later than most of us, I am now fully relaxing. Brilliant beach days, filled with reading about Vogue's fall trends, a fruitshake in one hand, my iPod summer tunes in the other, I feel quite content. Alex, our personal beach boy at Bahia del Mare, comes running whenever we give him a wink, with ice cold frappes and cheesecake. Dinner nights at the harbour in the old fort, cocktails on a roof terrace with the sight of hundreds of flickering lights, boating, dressing up and intense chats: it's a special summers treat. Tomorrow we're picking up our Fiat Panda, for cruises down the island and exploring hidden treasures. More updates will follow soon!
For now, polla fila apo tin Kerkyra!

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Soho Hearts presents Prêt - à - Portea

2010-08-07T15:47:00.001+02:00

Wednesday afternoon I received an email from a friend asking me if I was interested in seeing the FW 2010 collection of accessories label Soho Hearts. Well, that could be quite cool... I thought, delighted by the idea of meeting the brain behind this successful brand. Juliette Booker, a Dutchie based in NYC, designs jewelry for every age and every style. She has tons of celebrities in Hollywood wearing her design, so no doubt it would be an inspiring gathering.

Perhaps I should've put a little more effort in finding out what it was exactly that we were going to though, as upon arrival I noticed the other guests were wearing shimmering and sequined cocktaildresses, and all looked unbelievably glamourous. My outfit was a slight clash between the classes... It consisted of high waisted black shorts with a simple tee, my fave new wedges (the black canvas ones, see post below) and black dotted tights. With holes and a couple big ladders in it. Yes, very sophisticated indeed.

But after seeing the interior of the party I was totally overwhelmed and completely forgot about my underdressed look. The party - or Prêt-à-Portea as it was called - was in a beautiful old 'grachtenpand' (house on the canal) with marble everywhere and huge chandeliers lighting up the cosy and intimite, yet also classy and spacious room. Filled with stylish and hot people who were drinking cocktails (yay, how I love the fabulous shakerboys!), catching up, dancing a bit on DJ Mayday's funky tunes and... checking out the high tea that looked so stunningly chic. Vintage tea cups and plates in all sizes and shapes, scones and chocolate cake, cute little cucumber sandwiches were all stalled on a big table, along with the highlights of the new jewelry collection. This was a somewhat different brand presentation than what I had expected, but oh was I loving it! The interior mirrored the collection, looking so British chic, yet stylish and a little edgy at times (skull headband, spikey bracelets).

I have two definite favourites of the new collection: I like the neon earrings with silver, but I was totally and utterly in love with the bunny headbands. They remind me of Louis Vuittons headbands, but so much more wearable. And as Juliette - looking amazing in a babyblue puffy dress - explained: "You can wear the ears to the side for daytime, but when night comes they can stand up, like a naughty bunny girl."

Dewi, a Dutch singer (who also looked adorable in her ballerina skirt with thick black tights and shiney black wedges) was giving an amazing performance and the actual brand presentation with models walking between the guests was unusual but very informal and made the collection feel accessible to anyone at any age at any time. Very well done.

I spoke with a couple bloggers, some models and some other interesting people, but after trying all the different cocktails the shakerboys had on their little menu, I decided it was time to head home. I've had a fabulous time, this is definitely a night that will stay on top of my mind.

Thank you Soho Hearts, also for the lovely goodiebag (big bulky silver ring with cobalt blue stone and charcoal Rituals eyeshadow!) and the wonderfully inspiring night.

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Making excushoes

2010-08-04T15:26:00.001+02:00

Strappy sandals, wicked wedges or the
perfect pair of black heels: what's not to love?

As summer proceeds, so does the summersale. Though my closet has officially reached its limit, I strongly believe a girl can never have too many shoes. Apparently I don't stand alone in this as Sweden brings us more than just H&M: home product retailer Ikea is there for a girl like me.

Ikea came up with the luminous idea of big roll out baskets that perfectly fit under your bed. An easy storage for my countless pairs of heels... It does embarrass me sometimes, when - for example - a friend is at my place and I feel the strong urge to - big sigh from friend - change my look yet again. I open my closet doors, pull out a series of tops and shorts, quickly decide what to wear and then pull out my drawer from under the bed to find a matching pair of open toed strappy sandals, wicked wedges or the perfect pair of black heels. The friend wants to speak, is dying to speak, but simply can't: the astonishing look of my beloved heels is mind blowing and is making them speechless. I know the feeling, believe me. Why do you think I am always late? It's the shoes. They're the ones to blame.

Canvas black newbies will provide elegance

Anyhow, they are so very useful, these drawers. My shoes are all stored under my bed, neatly lined up, waiting to be the lucky pick of the day and to be worn, out in the sun, onto the streets.

And when they are the chosen pair, they do a little dance, smile politely to the mailman, grin sarcastically to tourists and raise their eyebrows when an 'interesting' other floats by. The threat of losing their status as #1 is always there, and so they try to keep me away from shoe stores as much as they can. I thank them for that.

But shoes are like people. They sometimes need a change of scene, meet intriguing new pairs, chat with special ones, sleep with someone other than the usual one. It can get rather boring for them, these countless pairs of shoes, stored in the dark, under my bed. They need someone to spice things up a little. And that is exactly when they decide to subtly lure me to the shops...

And that, my dear readers, is how it happened that I came home with three pairs of new heels last week. I'm not to blame, nor is the weatherman. It's the shoes themselves!

No doubt a red suede pair of wedges with three cute little straps will add some colour and a little spanish temperament, a mouse grey pair will most likely bring some peace, and (this weeks favourite) black canvas wedges with open toe and open sides will surely take care of some elegance in my basket drawer. I intend to take good care of my shoes, so they will do the same for me. And, well, if this makes my shoes happy, who am I to complain...?

No doubt a red pair will add some spice in my basket drawer

Take care of your shoes, and your shoes will take care of you

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Rule #1: Never leave the house naked.

2010-08-02T01:33:00.000+02:00

In need of some more ridiculous fashion rules? Buy 'Never leave the house naked' here!

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Modefabriek 2010

2010-07-31T16:47:00.002+02:00

Fashion Week is hardly over, or another big event takes control of the cities fashion freaks. This past Sunday and Monday the Rai complex was transformed in a clean, white space, consisiting of six big halls that were the stage of a couple hundred fashion brands. Each of them showing the guests (shop- and store owners and pressmembers) what a unique and special concept they had. This event, called Modefabriek (transl.: fashion factory) also hosted a fashion show, called Platform. Both young designers and upcoming labels, as well as avant-garde designers, were showing their collections, divided into two groups: Next and Cutting Edge. Cutting Edge definitely lived up to their name; it was indeed quite cutting edge, as the designs were rather risky and not very usual. Next showed us wearable and some rather lovely looks. Warmi was one of the inspiring brands that will be featured in today's post. Enjoy!

Want to see more knits, pastels and funky goatskin bags? Click to go to the website.

Comfi long knitted sweaters with cute prints in pastels: soft pink, seablue and turquoise combined with handknitted shorts. Goatskinned bags mixed with colourful leather details and black lacquer bits and funky shoes: shiny black broques with white, salmon and pink golfing flaps. All knits are handmade in Columbia, so explains the Parisien based designer Sylvia Toth, originally from Bogota, Colombia.

Warmi SS11 - Platform show 'Modefabriek' July 2010 - Next & Cutting Edge

Want to read more on inspiring brands that were showing at Platform? Click here.

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Wishlist

2010-07-31T04:46:00.002+02:00

Lush Deborah Bowness wallpaper. Need I say more?

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2010-07-30T11:54:00.001+02:00

Spotted in Berlin: grafiti artist XOOOOX

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2010-07-29T10:38:00.002+02:00

I've found my true love.

2010-07-28T23:59:00.011+02:00

Left image: 'Classic and Modern Fabrics' by Janet Wilson
Right image: Cotton fabric by Jean-Charles de Castelbajac

Although the Dutch magazine Residence normally is full of, well, the name quite reveals its content already, but it's full of residences, this summer's July/August issue is also interesting for us fashion freaks... The issue starts with a six page spread on miss Donatella Versace's 'modest' interior of her Milan apartment. The bright-lit colours of modern artworks by Mimmo Paladino and Giorgio de Chirico and her 'sunset' couch that's made of glass mosaic (one of her favourites), clash immensely with the classical Medici feel that has such a strong hold on the rest of the space. The result is an interesting mix of old and new, that shows off the true Versace spirit.

Images show Donatella Versace's apartment in Milan. (Source: Residence, issue July/August 2010)

The mag continues with nearly twenty pages of the most colourful fabrics. If this doesn't bring the real summer sway alive, I don't know anything else that will. My favourite is the one on page 41, a cotton fabric with black handwritten texts printed on stripes in seven different colours. 'Il était une fois' by Jean-Charles de Castelbajac, a French fashion designer, designed exclusively for Maison Boussac.

Interested in fabrics? Janet Wilson, teacher at the London College of Fashion and fabricdesigner explains everything there is to know in 'Classic and Modern Fabrics'. Interesting, inspiring and educative!

Next Residence: a look inside Diane von Furstenberg's house...

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2010-07-27T15:04:00.004+02:00

2010-07-26T23:17:00.004+02:00

Pelayo Diaz Zapico (UK) for Kate Loves Me at katelovesme.net

Louise Ebel (France) for Pandora at misspandora.fr

Jane Aldridge (USA) for Sea of Shoes at seaofshoes.com

Susanna Lau (UK) for Style Bubble at stylebubble.co.uk

Danny Roberts (USA) for Igor + Andre at igorandandre.blogspot.com

Click on Fashiolista.com to go to the book 'Fashion Blogs' directly

2010-07-25T13:05:00.001+02:00

Vintage market at Westergas, terrain of Amsterdam Fashion Week.

Eco-Chanel: Ciska en Piet created an affordable
(and sustainable!) solution to the worlds most longed after brand

Just follow the signs...

Scarf aka headband. OBSESSED.

Kiboots: colourful handmade leather boots
made of vintage killimrugs by artisans in Marocco.

You can't have it all: in love with a pair of vintage Ralph Laurens sunglasses

2010-07-23T19:23:00.003+02:00

2010-07-23T18:20:00.000+02:00

I met one of the most sincere and warmhearted persons this week. You can read all about my encounter with amazing Andy from stylescrapbook.com on www.blog.fashiolista.com.

Request for Landing - Conny Groenewegen AIFW

2010-07-20T10:10:00.005+02:00

It's a warm and starry summer nights sky: not completely dark, but more deep cobalt blue. I enter the field where the show is to be held. I must note that a field is not the best choice for a show during fashion week, as 98% of all women are wearing heels. Mine sink deep into the moist earth with every footstep I take. I stumble along to a bunch of people standing in a large circle. It's remarkably silent, I think, amazed by the little noise that's coming from this amount of people. When I get closer to the crowd, however, I can distinguish the silhouette of big headphones. Aha! That's why no one's talking. They're listening to music; it's a silent disco...

Amidst the circle of the fashion crowd, people are sitting on pallets wrapped in plastic, while models march in any direction. It reminds me of last season's Prada show in Milan, when models were walking in different directions too. This is much more intimate though, which is exactly what designer Conny Groenewegen had in mind. Big lightbulbs hanging on a stick, light up when a model walks past, giving it a more industrial than disco theme. I think Edison would've been proud.

In the middle of the show, the models gather together for a group photoshoot. And not just any shoot, they all strike different poses, resulting in wonderful pictures.

The show, called Request for Landing, is about the transform process of a caterpillar into a butterfly. Conny Groenewegen explains: "It's a bit like designing a collection. With the show you - more or less - also ask permission from the audience to land, to be seen."

"I've been inspired by insects, butterflies mainly. The lines of the looks, the fabrics and materials and the show aspect have all been influenced by these insects." This is clearly visible in the shiny metallic fabrics, the soft lines and the holes that look like a beehive. And thus the second show during AIFW inspired by a physical process of nature.

Check this video to get an even better image of the show:

Photo's: Team Peter Stigter

Sporty pleats please - Daryl van Wouw

2010-07-18T13:30:00.001+02:00

Issey Miyake's pleats please must've been of inspiration to Daryl this season (Funny note: mum on the phone: "Is it Saturday you're going to Waryl van Douw?"), as he both pleated away with his sporty tee's and bottoms as with classy evening gowns. My favourite: the cobalt blue - pleated - gown, with loose and low back.

The show aspect is definitely around. The beginning of the show reminds me of Iris van Herpen's show earlier this week: a pounding sound, vibrating through the air, filling the audience with excitement of what's to come. What's coming are mustard yellow leather shorts, with pleated and ruffled pockets, balloon pleated skirts and simple tee's: the sporty looks aren't very divers, as Daryl shows us a lot of the same only in different colour palettes. A subtle exotic feel is given by the coloured streaks in the model's hair, and by the headbands with golden coins, hand accessories and the big round earrings. The white gowns with coloured accessories seem a bit ancient greek inspired, and Daryl combines both the classy elegant with the sporty in a very subtle, but good way.

Let's bring the circus to AIFW: Individuals AMFI

2010-07-18T11:35:00.006+02:00

Being the proud AMFI student that I am, I was very anxious seeing what my fellow students designed for our own label, Individuals. I must say, I definitely liked some things, but wasn't blown away by the entire collection.

The music reminded me of the circus, and so did the make up: big spidery eyes combined with bright green, orange and pink eyeshadow, a dog (?) painted over the face of a model gave it that surreal circus touch. The looks varied from wide satin dresses in salmons, nudes and whites, combined with accessories in deep colours as fuchsia, turquoise and purple, to more sporty swimwear, still in those same three deep colours. Individuals did a good job, as after the show I found out the theme was indeed circus!

I didn't quite like the bra straps right above the knee though, as well as the bright knee caps in the beginning of the show. To me, they seemed a bit useless, and it looked a bit over-accessorized. I'm never a fan of very bright colours though, so the last bit of the show was more my taste: heavy gold and grey satin duchesse little blazers, a very feminine brown crocodile tail coat, and a beautiful black and beige printed silk fringed scarf. The best looks of the evening to me were the long silk coat and the black rope tied top. In combination with the bright and dramatic make up, (see the pictures at the beginning of this post) they were absolute winners.

Final conclusion: I think Individuals definitely succeeded in portraying their main theme, the circus. The bright coloured looks weren't really my taste, therefore I am more enthusiastic about the looks that had blacks, whites, nudes, salmons and beige tones, and heavy make up. I do think that musicwise Individuals could've been more original. The switch from one music to the other wasn't very smooth, which didn't build on the professional level.

Photos: Team Peter Stigter

Sail away sisteract: Spijkers en Spijkers at the opening soiree

2010-07-16T14:50:00.004+02:00

A big ship painted on the breast of a model. A mauve jersey jumpsuit with a little boat on the front. Floaty dresses in VOC slash ‘Delfts Blauw‘ prints. White dresses and blouses with blue shell shapes all over, as some sort of exotic print.

The two twinsisters Riet Spijkers en Truus Spijkers, showed their SS11 collection at the Westergasfabriek during the opening soiree of Amsterdam Fashion Week (AIFW). They were inspired by the Dutch folksong ‘Daar was laatst een meisje loos’ (translated: A little girl was missing) that dates back to 1774.

In the 18th century a lot of girls dressed as boys so they could sail along with the big trading ships, which is what this song is about. The designerduo chose to show us a nautical theme with a twist. A very wearable collection, with stripes, Brigitte Bardot black and white printed tops, round shaped red and white sunglasses, and flowing kaftans and cute beach dresses in greens, blues and whites. Red lips, salty sea coupes and matching platform wedges with a cork sole and a see through plastic strap finished the look.

St Tropez in the ’60s with a 18th century feel; a mix of times and cultures, very well performed.

Photos: Peter Stigter