I went in just to repurchase my eyeliner. I went out with two lipsticks, one eyeshadow pencil, one eyepencil, two nailpolishes and a complimentary makeup-bag on the house. Oh! and naturally the eyeliner...

What happened? Sale happened.



50% off on Chanel products isn't something you can ignore, can you? So basically it wasn't 'my fault' and one must be proud of my bargain hunting skills. Really. It took me just one glance with the eye and these wonderful products out of nowhere belonged to me (except for the nailpolishes, those are my mum's. But ya know what they say, sharing is caring). And besides, in what other way could I have celebrated Mademoiselle's birthday? This is most appropiate, I'd think. She might even be a little bit proud.*





That day I'd started a treasure hunt after the perfect brown lipstick (for those real 1920's vibes). I'd almost given up when we walked into our local perfumery (which also sells makeup. Don't they all?) when my mum spotted the neatly hided away Chanel sale corner with -and I kid you not- a perfect brown lipstick. And a perfect olive green eyeshadow. Not to mention the lovely nailpolishes in those unusual colours and... well, you get the jizz.....


When the sales assistent greets you with 'Ah, Chanel girl! How do you do?', you've probably done something wrong with your life. Or good. It's a debatable matter. But I don't think she'll be seeing me anytime soon. Not until the next sale at least. ;)

Love,
Dominique


*Yes, I've been sitting on this post since August. My butt hurts.

I'm sitting in the train.
Next to me are three Irish people, two guys and one girl.
A woman walks into the train and asks in Dutch if this train goes straight to Amsterdam Central, or if it also stops at Duivendrecht.
One of the Irish guys says without a doubt Amsterdam Central.
The woman says thank you (in Dutch) and leaves the train.
The other guy and girl look open-eyed at him.
"I didn't know you could speak Dutch?".
"I can't", he replied, "I hoped that that was the right answer to her question".

This week had its ups and downs (the above conversation being a small bump up during miserable times). I started by being ill at home, then being ill at college and then... well... still being ill between home and college. It also doesn't help in those kind of situations (ya know, between the verge of throwing up or throwing down) when you unwillingly participate in a game called 'How many people can we fit into the underground carriage'. To be followed by 'How many people can we fit into the train'. Answer to both: more than you want to know. The best thing that could happen in those kind of situations is OBVIOUSLY when two people start a heated argument (literally. It was so bloody hot in there!) about, well basically about occupation of space. Nice.

It was, btw, the right answer to her question. The Irish guy. Come one! Keep up! Although I must admit that most words can be easily translated into 'your' language (if 'your' is naturally someone who speaks English). So it wasn't really something that should be listed as potential Nobel Prize material, but I think we all agree it was a bold move to make. Bold being one of the favourite words used during a speech held by one of the teachers (nice transition, I know) during a ceremonial. No one wants to be at college during the evening, not even when it's for something good. So safe those words for another time, I've got to catch the train/bus/taxi/sledge/space hopper. *to be followed by yet another game of 'How many people can we fit into [public transportation]'*

A golden rule should be to avoid all buses, trains, subways and any other forms of transportation during rush hour. However when we all do that, the problem would just move to another point of time. So instead of everyone being tired and miserable in the mornings and evenings, we all can be tired and miserable in the afternoons and nights. In fact, we should all just stop moving. Just don't go anywhere. Just sit still, wherever you are, and stay there until the end of infinity. No rush hour and probably no humankind at all because we'd all probably die in lack of food, drinks etc etc. But it's worth a try! So if everyone would please like to stay wherever they are, then I'll just go... nowhere. I deserve a day off!

Where would you like to stay until the end of infinity? (think this one through, infinity is quite a long time, let alone the end of infinity...)

Love,
Dominique

I don't like myself. Well, I do like myself but I don't, ya know? I'm in this forever struggle of love and hate. A battle of the mind... And I'm almost ashamed to say that this love/hate relationship also manifests itself into the way I look (or the way I sometimes perceive myself to be looking). There's nothing wrong with the way I look and there are so many things wrong with the way I look. Depends on the day, really.

I've noticed that when I get stressed, I get more anxious (I hate that word, it's so over-used) and when I get anxious, I self-doubt and when I self-doubt I hate everything. Not e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g (although try to convince that to grumpy little me), but most things that are either breathing or not, talking or not, standing or not... just everything really. The smallest something can certainly be THE BIGGEST LITTLE AIUSDHSFKSDFJKSDFNSDGDLSG EVER I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT. Wouldn't really think that of me when looking into those innocent eyes, would ya!


Trying to get back to the point I was about to make (sort of):
I like to analyse everything. Especially when it comes to the way I look. As a rule I don't like photographs of myself. I don't look like how I want to look (which is that 'perfect' image in my head that I will never ever be able to reach because SPOILER ALERT perfection doesn't exists. What a shame, what a shame).

In my many attempts to try to look Vogue (your typical non-expressive, yet sparkle in the eye- facial expression with skeleton attached to it), taking a picture became an absolute burden I put myself -and mostly my mum- through (because, ya know, I like myself, but I don't. I like this outfit, but I don't. I like my makeup, but I don't. I'm an absolute joy to live with...).


SO WHAT'S CHANGED? WHY ARE YOU PUTTING US THROUGH ALL THIS NAGGING?

Well, I'm still not a rolemodel when it comes to loving myself and all of that jazz (have you ever met such a creature that 100% loves itself? And no, your dog doesn't count...). BUT -yes here we come, slowly but steady- since Ive changed the way I stand in front of a camera, it all has become more... fun. Who'd thought?! Standing in front of a camera and fun to be typed in the same sentence, it's a miracle!



I think we all know where this one is going, but I'm going to finish the story, darn it! Since I've let go of Vogue (have you seen the latest September issue of the American Vogue? The holy grail of fashion? Well, I think dear Anna Wintour had an easy one because it was all just advertisements. It took me 224 pages to turn until I'd finally reached the table of contents part I (it took me another 10 or so pages to find part II, let alone any actual content!!)) I've found something that's even better: magazines from the 80's/90's. Not just any magazines, but magazines with patterns in it of the clothing these wonderful people are wearing and that I'm now trying to find the time for to make. MAKE. IT. ALL.


These wonderful people aren't just modelling, these people are heaving fun, caught in the act and anything but perfect. THEY ARE AMAZING! I'm obsessed, really... Just spread your legs, play with your collar and pull some faces. I'm good at this, I can do this, I... I... I kinda like these pictures of me... WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO KNOW???

Love,
Dominique


Fun fact: when these pictures were taken it was about 30+++ celsius degrees. I was wearing a wooly jumper, trousers from a thick fabric, a thick lined coat, a scarf, gloves and a hat (no socks though). 
I'm MAD.

Yesterday me and my sister went out to go to a books fair. The fair itself was a slight disappointment as opposed to last time we went (less books, more -excuse my language- shit). But as always: we know how to entertain ourselves...

We -or better said I- had to leave in a mad hurry to catch the bus. I didn't even had mascara on, let alone lipstick! (and I never go out without lipstick). So in all panic I grabbed the first thing I could find. Luckily for me this grabbing hand catched the mascara, the lipstick and the bus. Unfortunately it didn't thought to grab my mobile phone. You can't always be a winner. *sigh*


My book choices happen to be quite 'in theme' with one another. I mean, colour coordination has always been a strong point of mine...








Last years adventure -when I didn't forget my phone- you can (re)watch [here]. *Cue awfully long hair and awkward faces especially produced for you by me*

My philosophy is that you can never EVER have enough books. So, does anyone have read anything good lately? I'm currently hovering my way through Sidney Chambers and The Shadow of Death by James Runcie. Most people say that you should first read the books before seeing the film/series (yes, we're talking the same Sidney from the Grantchester Mysteries), but I don't really mind that I've seen the series before I've read the books. There are however many small differences that in total makes a great difference in the way the series has been approached and the way the stories been told on paper. Also this gives you the great opportunity to imagine James Norton's face over and over again (instead of naturally fabricating pieces together of how you imagine the priest to be). There are worst things on this planet.

Love,
Dominique

When my mother said to me that short hair would influence the way I dressed, I looked at her funny. But it's true! The lenght of your hair does influence the way you dress! I've apparently become a little bit more sassier. Not that that's a wrong thing.

I think we all need to be able to put our finger into the air and say "Na-ah girlfriend!". My finger just happen to be raised more often than not (or at least in my head it is).



Love,
Dominique

What to do in the Rijksmuseum? Trying to look at the The Night Watch by Rembrandt while stabbing away tourists with my elbows. Seen it, done it. No! Let's explore some of their more underrated (yet as promising) collections, of which one of them happens to be put in a temporary exhibition.... Sounds like a plan to me!


We're talking prints! Fashion prints in this particular case... Most of these prints were acquired by the museum in 2009. Give or take 300 prints are on show out of about 8.000 prints in total -which you can gawk at yourself thanks to the Rijksstudio (which enables everyone from anywhere to look at (AND USE!!) high resolution pictures of almost the whole collection of the Rijksmuseum. Which is a bloody lot!).


I think this exhibition has been perfectly summed up by the cashier at the museum shop. Normally cashiers aren't that chatty -especially those based in Amsterdam-, but this one kindly asked how we'd experienced the exhibition and told us that her nan of 85 absolutely adored the exhibition catalog (which I was buying at the time. Which I also absolutely adore. That's right, I'm a 85 year old nan trapped in this body. Send help). She said that it's a beautiful, well-thought and outlayed exhibition, but not necessarily presented in a way that would attract the massess (as we experienced first hand by seeing people come and go while we were still gawking at one of the prints. FOOLS! Although, in hindsight, we had the whole place to ourselves. PARTY TIME!!!).


I thought the presentation very pure and coherent with the prints and the time-table they were set in. However I totally agree with her that it's heaven for the pre-informed interested and a careless whatever for those who walk by in search of previous mentioned Night Watch (you're way out of course, buddy!). But I absolutely love the Rijksmuseum for also presenting this in combination with their big-names (which frankly can't be seen without a hoard of again previously mentioned tourists who are fighting for the perfect spot, using their elbows as lethal weapons... And it hurts. Badly).


Prints are quite an underrated form of art. However just look at the details many of these possess. It tells you so much about society and their courtesies, habits and changes. Change is also a main subject in the exhibition. It doesn't just shows you the origin of the fashion magazine and its many predecessors, but it shows you the influence of time, place and culture from 1600 up to half of the 21st century. Just thinking about the role of (fashion)magazines now and the way they correspond 'the latest trends' into the public eye is -bluntly said- mesmerizing.


It's funny how the looks on the prints were presented as something 'old' and 'not for now' (as the introduction states: "Fashion is always NEW... NEW for NOW, and almost instantly becomes passé."). However, as we all probably know, what comes around goes around. There are certain key-trends that gets to be recycled every season or so (Remember: "Florals? For Spring? Groundbraking." or everyone's favourite "Black is the new black!" or any variation on that with yellow or green or blue or any colour you can imagine suddenly being 'the new black' and right goes around again to being black actually being the new black. Confusing business, I know).


On a personal level I've taken so much inspiration from these prints that I think you can't take away from a picture. The artistic freedom of a simple pencil just can't be beaten by a clear straightforward picture. It sometimes lacks that bit of artistic influence an illustrator can use to depict a garment. On a picture you get the garment the model's put on, on an illustration you get an artistic interpretation of the garment. It brings a whole different dimension to the way it gets to be experienced.


A year or so ago I had a lecture/guided tour in the Rijksmuseum (about glass and porcelain and silver and... well you get the drill) and we walked passed this section of dresses and jewelry, which immedaitely tickled my senses. I'd almost wandered off if I hadn't in time realized that all of this would've been part of my exams, so I reluctantly went on to look at some other kind of glass (Man! there are many different kinds of glass!).

But I never forgot about it. 

So to keep in tune with the exhibition, instead of going to try to look at the Night Watch (that's right! I've been to the Rijksmuseum and didn't see the Night Watch. But I've seen it many times before, so don't you worry) we went downstairs to the Special Collections. We passed the glass and porcelain and silver and found this beautiful installation where different types of dresses were combined with floral paintings. Unfortunately there wasn't that much background information on the dresses (except for the maker and making year). But I love how they intertwined the different (art) forms, as I believe clothes always should be shown (thus in context).


It was again surprising to see how little interest there was for the Special Collections in general. Not to sound downgrading, but tourists only go to the Night Watch, use their elbows in a severe battle for the best spot, take a selfie and probably leap over to go to the Van Gogh Museum and disappointedly find out -when trying to take a selfie with mr. Van Gogh himself- that you aren't alowd to take any pictures there. What about the rest of 'our' heritage? What does it take to make you glance twice at a, say porcelain sculpture, to make you care as much about your selfie with Van Gogh. Fascinating, to say the least, how much the 'importance' (or better said 'notoriety') of an image influences the behaviour of people. But again PARTY TIME!!).


So next time you go to the Rijksmuseum take a splurge -after taking a brief look at the Night Watch- and go out and explore the richness of the collection they've got on offer! Maybe you'll discover something that's even more precious...

Love,
Dominique