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!

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