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.

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Inner frustration

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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Hunting down the Facehunter

Today was a pretty exciting day.

However, it began with a rather slow start, due to intense partying activities of the previous night. A night in town, out and about, that involved heavy dancing and stiletto performance – which wasn't so easy for all of us. But we looked fabulous, and that's all that matters, no?

I woke up with a dry mouth and painfully sensitive eyes that could barely endure the sunlight that was fiercely shining its way in through little peeks in my curtains.

Sometimes 'the morning after' can be so much worse when you go to bed too late, even though you didn't go totally out of your mind with the alcoholic beverages. Beverages you so desperately craved for only several hours earlier, but that now – only by the thought of another – make your stomach turn upside down and inside out. Boy, they turned me.

But then I quickly remembered what day today was. Not my birthday, nor my last day before summer holiday finally kicked in. No, none of the above. Something FAR more exciting. Today was the day I would meet Mr. Yvan Rodic. Or, perhaps better known as The Facehunter.

A couple months ago, I finally bought his book, as a present to myself. And when on his blog I read that he was opting to go to Amsterdam, I quickly send a reaction to this post, asking him to 'please, please, pretty-please' come and pay our lovely city a visit. And he did! From 15.00 – 17.00 hrs he would be present in the American Book Center (ABC) at the Spui on the 29^th of May, where he would be signing his books. I asked my friends to come along, but some were too busy with sleeping and dealing with their hangover, others were simply doing something else. Therefore, with a pounding heart I went alone. I must admit, I am not one of those persons that loves spending a day in town on her own. I like talking to someone about what I see outside, and discussing why polkadots are so 2009 and stripes very 2010 (though I'm actually already so over this stripey nautical look; it's been covered everywhere now).

Anyway, today I had no other choice than to go alone. I entered the ABC and saw a line that didn't scare me too much to run off. (God, I do sound like some sort of paranoid freak that cannot undertake any activities by herself, this is not the case, but I was just a bit shy and felt very aware of myself; probably nerves too). After what seemed like an hour, (which I later found out was an actual hour) it was my turn to talk with Yvan. I had noticed that he seemed very interested in every fashion victim that came to see him, and he definitely took his time to chat with every single fan. He asked a lot of questions, he seemed genuinely interested and he really wanted to write something personal in his book.

Yvan Rodic [source: yvanrodic.blogspot.com]

[Confession]This was the first time ever I went to a book signing, thus I am not completely familiar with how these things normally go, but I can imagine writers to just be in a rush, scribbling down their name, whilst impatiently looking at the next 'victim'. To be honest, that's what I expected from today too, but – as said before - none of this happened today. When it was my turn I started off mumbling and stumbling, and blattered a bit about what I study and what I love to do. He was very kind and we talked about his visit to Amsterdam, his travels, and the cities he finds most inspiring. He told me that New York is a bit too polished for his like. “It's a great city, but there's not much room for new ideas. It's full of galleries, but the actual scene where interesting art or fashion is created can be found in LA. People might not say that easily, as LA is best known for their blonde bombshells and the beach, but it is an extremely inspiring place. It lacks a city center, so people just rent cheap studios somewhere in LA, and create new and interesting ideas.” He also liked the Scandinavian countries a lot, and insisted on their personal style and their freshness. He claimed Berlin wasn't so fresh, just a mere copy of the Scandinavians. By telling him that I was just there and that I liked the pure and rawness of the city, he answered:”Yes, that might be so, and it's definitely a nice place to go to for a couple days, but how many interesting people have actually come from Berlin? People with new ideas and concepts? Amsterdam, on the other hand, has lots of designers, architects, illustrators and photographers that are very successful internationally.” I nodded, and wished only for the sixth time that I had something more clever to say then: “Ah, that's so interesting, I never looked at it that way.”

He also asked me if I'd liked being a Dutchie. I told him I'd rather be something more exotic, but then he told me Holland might not be a warm country, it's considered special to meet someone Dutch as there are only so many, compared to other countries. After a while we had to stop talking since people behind me started getting restless. I wished him a happy stay in Amsterdam, gave him my blog address (you never know!) and walked off with the smile of an insane person.