As the year slowly rounds up and everyone is running from commitment to commitment, it's important to have a breather in between and immerge yourself into something other than sleigh bells ringing. Not least so you can avoid boring small talk during the so-manieth gathering and really engage with your loved ones, colleagues or designated drivers (for those among us who don't shy away from some eggnog). It also gives you the power to stand your ground when uninformed red-nosed Rudolph's try to derail a conversation by talking like they're 'in the know', while they're most definitely not 'in the know', which you are now going to point out to them because you are 'in the know' after reading these books.

Flâneuse by Lauren Elkin

'Flâneur' is French for a man who aimlessly strolls the city streets observing himself, passers-by and the funny world we live in. The female version to this, 'flâneuse', does not exist. Well, perhaps not in the dictionary, but on the streets the flâneuse has been alive and kicking. At least according to Lauren Elkin. In Flâneuse: Women Walk The City In Paris, New York, Tokyo, Venice and London (2016) Elkin makes her case for the existence of the flâneuse. Through her own walking-experience, Elkin presents multiple cases of flânerie by female powerhouses (think Virginia Woolf, George Sand, Sophie Calle) who proudly strode off into the streets. This book shows how women have been erased from the city streets, how public space is created and negotiated and how there's still a great need to keep on walking to (re)negotiate the cobbles we walk on. Although I wished her case studies were more diverse and intersectional (and not only reliant on big-named well-dissected classic writers), this book points in a playful manner to insightful and productive thought-strands anyone who walks out of the front door encounters.

The Psychopath Test by Jon Ronson

In The Psychopath Test: A Journey Through The Madness Industry (2011) Jon Ronson explores the absurdity that comes along with institutionalised mental health care. He focuses on the way the industry works, and most of all doesn't work, with help from psychiatrists, psychopaths and Scientologists (what a happy bunch indeed). He shows the maddening, looped-argumented issues the industry (and humanity) are faced with through his own intuitive interests. Throughout the book Ronson looks at the case of a psychopath that claims to not be a psychopath (but that's something a psychopath would say!). This case opens up confronting questions of what counts as a 'sane' person and how easily 'we' can loose control over our own minds and bodies. Through his approachable witty writing style uncomfortable truths, not-so-truths and can-you-believe that's-true truths are uncovered. When reading this I had to repeatedly remind myself that all this (still) takes place in the madness industry. I really like the personal touch and look Ronson uses as leading inquisitive insight to the way he conducts and processes his research.

The Story of My Teeth by Valeria Luiselli

Ok, The Story of My Teeth (2013) is a bit weird. Especially when you don't get half of the references... However, when you finally get the gist of it, you will fly through its pages. The book follows Gustavo 'Highway' Sanchez and his quest to 1) replace his unsightly teeth with some shiny whites and 2) retrace his shiny whites once they mysteriously go missing. Besides being a great tooth-enthusiast, Highway is also the world's best auctioneer. Or, at least, that's the modest title he uses to introduce himself. Through the power of his lies (or, as he calls them, allegories) Highway sells anything and everything to anyone who comes to his auctions (spoiler alert: even himself). The story of Highway takes collecting and connecting to a whole new level while it explores such small topics as value, worth and creation through entangling and changing claims of truth and the shifting weight of these claims (perhaps this can be related to Banksy's painting that shredded itself after it was bought at an auction and ironically doubled or trippled in value through this 'destructive' act). Basically: Bargain Hunt is nothing in its comparison! Although I really struggled reading and most of all understanding the story of Highway (once again: references, all of the references), in hindsight the main thing I took from it can be very productive when (re)thinking and (re)telling truth claims (and, perhaps, the pivotal role of capital within these claims). #fakenews?

What are you reading before the new year? Let me know in the comments below!

After practicing at-home yoga on my own in my bedroom these past couple of months I finally attended my first public yoga session. With about two-hundred other people. Yes, I take go big or go home very seriously. As you can imagine this session wasn't your typical Saturday morning yoga class (as I imagine there is such a thing as your typical Saturday morning yoga class). My first 'shared' yoga session was actually part of the Find What Feels Good Roadshow 2018 hosted by Adriene Mishler from Yoga With Adriene. Yes, I take go big or go home very seriously.

Up your connect

As a self-proclaimed recluse, leaving the house and sharing a -for me- very personal practice was not something I imagined myself doing. Ever. Let alone doing so quickly after only having picked up the practice of yoga this summer. I'm just a newbie, what right do I've got to do downward-facing dog with seasoned yogi's?! Well, to answer my own worries and doubts: you've got every right. Yoga, and especially yoga with Adriene (eeeey!), isn't about eeny meeny miny moe you're not good enough so go, but about connection. May this be connection between mind and body or connection between bodies sharing an online practice or (finally) smelling each others' sweat IRL. And boy did we sweat! Jk. Though my trademark clammy hands made an entrance with me as I walked into the room... Luckily Adriene reminded me/us at the beginning of the yoga class, after she prefectly, dramaticly entered the room walking down a steep stairway while Nina Simone's Feeling Good played in the background (note to self: make everyone play Feeling Good before I enter the room): "Everything is as it should be". Dramatic entrances and clammy hands included.

She's giving me good vibrations

The room was filled full-capacity with colourful yoga mats and their owners. Although a rush of anxiety swept me away at first, the positive tension shared non-verbally among each other created a sense of belonging without belonging. As I stressed and stretched on my mat in-between strangers, I even felt somewhat at ease. This 'easiness' really integrated as the practice developed and I dared to close my eyes to go with the flow instead of mirroring my neighbours' moves. This really made me realise how far I've come and how the unimaginable sometimes becomes reality so easily, so naturally. This naturalness is also something that really drawn me to Adriene as a yoga-teacher in the first place. Her pressence (online and offline) exudes a calm and playfulness that helps you to bring meaning to the yoga practice in your own way and on your own terms, while also helping you to go further and carefully break down brick walls. To connect. And this is I think also reflected in the diverse community based around her and all the lovely people that help to make Yoga With Adriene and Find What Feels Good happen.


At the end of the yoga session there was a meet & greet, during which they played music. One of the songs that came on was Good Vibrations by The Beach Boys. It's been stuck in my head ever since. In a good way. Although doing yoga with two-hunderd people at the same time is very intimidating, the whole experience was from beginning to end very positive (vibrations) and perhaps a good icebreaker for future yoga classes. Though for now I'll stick to the one-man show in my bedroom...

Are you a regular public yoga practicer or are you a proud member of the stay home club? Let me know in the comments below!

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Today is the birthday of my undeniably adorable four-pawed friend Sarah. Living with Saar has been a well-needed blessing. Her cheekiness and unstoppable love helps me to thrive through life. Having a puppy is hard work. But once you see them grow up into (occasionally) well-behaved doggos, you finally start to appreciate all those times desperately crying "Sarah, high five!" while she just stares at you confused munching on a shoelace. These songs go out to mah birthday gal and to all those who can fool any fool into sharing their food with them! The following tunes represent all the different degrees of dedication any dog in existence should be showered with...

1. Love at first sight

Then I saw her face, now I'm a believer, not a trace of doubt in my mind

I'm in love! Although sung by the wrong kind of animal, The Monkees with I'm A Believer perfectly sums up how your world changes just by the sight of a wagging tail.

2. Stop. It's puppy time.

Hyperactive when I was small, hyperactive now I'm tall, hyperactive as the day is long

Those who have a four-pawed friend know: dogs can go C-R-A-Z-Y from time to time. Not only is it a perfect delight to see them chase their own tails for ten minutes, but butterflies will fly out of your belly when they finally catch it and then let it go again. Hyperactive! by Thomas Dolby goes without explanation...

3. Cures any disease just by existing

This house just ain't no home anytime she goes away

"Where's the dog?" must be the most frequently uttered question in our household. And when it's answered with "outside", "upstairs" or "not here" you can hear Bill Withers passionately sing Ain't No Sunshine until our happy-meal reappears again.

4. Pooped in my shoe? I LOVE U SO MUCH!

Oh you pretty things, don't you know you're driving your mamas and papas insane

If you ask me there are only pros to being a dog owner as long as you're not too attached to your stuff. Otherwise sing through gritted teeth Oh! You Pretty Things by David Bowie and slowly feel nothing but heart-eye-emoji for your new interior designer.

5. I would die for you

You're the one that runs through my veins, like a hurricane, you lift the hurt I felt before

Paloma Faith starts Freedom with the biggest question of all time: If you left me, how could I go on? And the answer is: you don't. So protect every smol bean as good as you can and give them an exttra treat, pat on the head and thank them simply for existing. 'Cause where would humanity be without dogs? Nowhere, I tell ya!

Are you a cat or a dog person? Let me know in the comments below!

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From rubbing my tongue against an avocado to finally getting that double bed, this summer-holiday really revolved around me, me, me. But not in a selfish way (well, a bit in a selfish way). Sometimes it's just better to close your eyes than to angrily stare at your own reflection, if you get what I mean. This includes taking a step back, *breathe in, breathe out*, and recollect yourself before diving into the second-half of yet another stressful year. But before shouting 'bring it on!' to your teacher/boss/lunch lady, take another deep breath and sadly but optimistically sing "summer dreams ripped at the seams but oh those summer nights". Who knows, you might see your Sandy sooner than later! This is what I've been up to this summer... ("tell me 'bout it, stud")

1. I wrote my name in an exhibition space

And it wasn't an act of vandalism! This August I worked on the exhibition Resist! Take A Stand In Fashion. The exhibition is a collaboration between the Open Space Contemporary Art Museum (OSCAM) and Modemuze. It features four photographers who've created new interpretations of museum collection pieces that translates the historic piece de résistance to today's fashionable battle field. Think scandalous swimwear, radical rainbows and unique uniforms. Every photographer teamed up with a Modemuze-blogger and a Modemuze-editor (c'est moi!) who've written alongside the photos a blogpost/exhibition text. Although this exhibition was pulled together in a very short time, it really radiates the care, passion and personality everyone poured into it. This was my first time working on an exhibition from scratch and although my involvement was but-small, I learned two big things: 1) Good things do come to those who put themselves out there and 2) when you're open to change you'll be able to create something that's beyond everybody's expectations. Which is, like, ten times cooler than your initial idea.

You can see Resist! Take A Stand In Fashion until the 30th of September at OSCAM, Bijlmerdreef 1289, Amsterdam (free entry!).

2. I became a yogi

For years I said to myself, my mum, my sister, my dog, the train conducter and random strangers walking down the street: "I really should start doing yoga". And then I didn't. However things will find their way to you when you're ready to take the challenge. And this summer, after feeling out of balance and simply fed-up with myself, I was finally ready to *spit in hand and shake*. So I got myself a cheap mat, put on a sports bra and started wiggling my toes in 30+ degrees. Perhaps a ridiculously hot heat wave (we hit 38 degrees!!!) isn't the best time to start stretching a very unstretched body but, ya know, when you're going to sweat why not make it a productive sweat... Although I'm no real yogi yet, I've already learned and grown so much thanks to taking the time to work on my body/mind/soul/energy/life/stretchiness on a daily basis. I mean, I can now touch my toes! I also feel so much better in my skin and am trying to live a better life, be more mindful AND I CAN TOUCH MY TOES. My toes. I can touch them. #toetouching #touchmytoes #totoeornottotoe

3. I (almost) decluttered my room

When I was fourteen years old I couldn't sleep when a pen wasn't neatly outlined on my desk. However with the years I got over the crooked pen. And the pile of about-to-fall-over books. And the never ending accumulation of useless knick knacks taking up crucial shelf space. And the 'one day I will definitely need this' I-will-never-need-this sh*t conveniently placed next to my bed. And the outfit of yesterday, the day before yesterday and the day before that lying on my floor looking like the remainings of a beamed-up teen-trio now living their best lives flying through the galaxy on the run from their alien abductors while fighting bad guys and solving crimes... You get the image. Instead of pen-insomnia I convinced myself I was responsible for archiving anything and everything my sticky fingers touched. Turns out: I'm not. What a relieve! So these past couple of weeks I finally sat down and went through my piles of stuff, stuff and, guess what, some more stuff. Although my room still looks like a whirlwind has gotten the better of it, we're getting there...

What fun and inspiring things have you done this summer? Let me know in the comments below!

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I'ts the 25th of June 2018. The sky is grey and clouded but the sun shines. I think this type of weather can best be summed up as a wrestle match: on the one side it's too hot to wear a jumper but on the other side it's too cold not to. So you constantly have to fiddle around -arm in, arm out- until you give up and sit around helplessly, with one arm in, one out. Or worse your jumper has turned itself into a smothering hump around your neck, and god knows where the arms are now.

So I'm sitting around helplessly, trying to find the arms of my jumper so I can fiddle it into another position and, while I'm fiddling, I amuse myself thinking about how I could possibly turn this into a blogpost. Because although I write flares of possible blogposts in my notebook daily, I recently find it more and more impossible to turn those flares into fire. My mum says this is because I take everything too seriously, to which I snort and definsively say "no, no, no, no". But perhaps she's right. Question mark.

On a roll

The other day I aimlessly browsed Twitter when I stumbled upon a tweet that proudly exclaimed: 'Just scheduled blogposts up to February 2019! I'm on a roll!', or something among those lines (I'm quite sure 'I'm on a roll' wasn't in fact included as that doesn't sound very internetsy). After staring at it for some time, I scrolled further and spend many precious minutes looking at cute dog pictures. However that tweet burned a hole in my (sub)conscious and, like a cigarette burn, when I came close I still caught a whiff of its implications. What to make of this?

That tweet bothers me, I think, because it represents everything I do not do. It shows consistency and a certainty in that what one produces. A preconceived knowledge on what is good and whether that goodness will still exist when its consumption is postponed. I think I write more in the moment, therefore making the goodness or pleasure of its consumption also momentarily. For me at least. Like the jumper around my neck, of which I have now found the left (or right, not quite sure) arm, I'm -what feels like- forever struggling to manage its position. Never sure how the fabric acts in relation to my body temperature. Never sure where my blogpost lives within the blogosphere.

Secret admirer

I find it almost unthinkable to be as organised and as sure of my blogposts to reach out to a new year already. Is that what they call evergreen content? Content that is shareable whenever, wherever, as it rings true from start to finish regardless of change within the world or within yourself. All I can think of is the potential choking hazard; there's just so much fabric you can fiddle one way before turning blue.

And still I secretly admire and wonder how I could become that tweet. How that tweet could be typed by my fingers, send by my thumb and seen by my eyes knowing I've accomplished such a thing. Taking a step back: I look from my flared nonsensical notes to my last blogpost published almost a month ago to my scheduled posts of exactly none. I start to sweat. Also, admittedly, because the jumper is now half-fumbled over my head, half stuck underneath my chin.


As if having a fever dream, I see my mothers lips part and move in slow motion: 'you take everything too seriously'. But perhaps I'm not taking things serious enough, mum! While I'm in the middle of wrestle-mania, others are singing happy new year in -I imagine- classy 1980s business suits, twirling their moustaches, looking down at us mere June 2018 bloggers. While they are heartedly laughing at the future, I'm knees deep in the present with the rest of me stuck in the past. Even when my jumper finally pops over my head and I'm freed from its tight grip, I'm reminded of this never ending cycle, as I hastily throw the jumper back on (it's getting rather chilly again) and count myself lucky if I even make it to the 26th.

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