Palladium Breakfast

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

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

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

♡ Thanks for reading and feel free to leave a 'lovely thought' on my post!  Don't forget  to follow me with bloglovin' or sign up for e-mail updates.

Fashion Week Madness

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

♡ Thanks for reading and feel free to leave a 'lovely thought' on my post!  Don't forget  to follow me with bloglovin' or sign up for e-mail updates.

Talking to the moon

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. 

♡ Thanks for reading and feel free to leave a 'lovely thought' on my post!  Don't forget  to follow me with bloglovin' or sign up for e-mail updates.

New York...

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

♡ Thanks for reading and feel free to leave a 'lovely thought' on my post!  Don't forget  to follow me with bloglovin' or sign up for e-mail updates.

You know your life

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.

♡ Thanks for reading and feel free to leave a 'lovely thought' on my post!  Don't forget  to follow me with bloglovin' or sign up for e-mail updates.

Marc Jacobs intern

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.  

♡ Thanks for reading and feel free to leave a 'lovely thought' on my post!  Don't forget  to follow me with bloglovin' or sign up for e-mail updates.

Fashion obsession: leather pads

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!

♡ Thanks for reading and don't forget  to follow me with bloglovin'!

Guess what...

...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!

♡ Thanks for reading and feel free to leave a 'lovely thought' on my post!  Don't forget  to follow me with bloglovin' or sign up for e-mail updates.

I wish...

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

♡ Thanks for reading and feel free to leave a 'lovely thought' on my post!  Don't forget  to follow me with bloglovin' or sign up for e-mail updates.

Some freaking dangerous shit, those leg-warmers.

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. 

♡ Thanks for reading and feel free to leave a 'lovely thought' on my post!  Don't forget  to follow me with bloglovin' or sign up for e-mail updates.

Santa can you hear me?

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!

♡ Thanks for reading and feel free to leave a 'lovely thought' on my post!  Don't forget  to follow me with bloglovin' or sign up for e-mail updates.

The twenty euro Chanel horror.

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?

♡ Thanks for reading! Don't forget  to follow me with bloglovin' or sign up for e-mail updates.

I never said I don't like cars.

♡ Thanks for reading and don't forget  to follow me with bloglovin'!

I've stopped waiting for Friday.

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

♡ Thanks for reading and don't forget  to follow me with bloglovin'!

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

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.

♡ Thanks for reading and don't forget  to follow me with bloglovin'!

I don't mind being the black sheep.

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


Love it!

♡ Thanks for reading and don't forget  to follow me with bloglovin'!

Love me just a little bit more.

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?

♡ Thanks for reading and don't forget  to follow me with bloglovin'!