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!

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Fashion obsession: hat it or forget it.

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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Fashion obsession: backpacks

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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They say the owner looks after the dog...

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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Evolving Influence

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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Fashion Fairy Godmother

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. 

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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. 

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"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. 

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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. 

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

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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 

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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

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Fashion Environment

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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Dream on baby.

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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Soho Hearts presents Prêt - à - Portea

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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