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.)

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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