The girl, the cat and the guinea pigs.

It's June 25th. I have been looking forward to this day for a while now. Today is the day my dear brother and I leave for Paris. Paris, my favorite place to be. I realized that, by now, they have opened the doors of the Mulberry outlet store... And I know where it is. It's right next to the Ralph Lauren outlet store, the Jimmy Choo outlet store, Armani, Diesel, Tod's... You catch my drift. Last time I was there they were opening it's glorious and fashionable doors three days after my departure.. duuh. -well, actually not the last time but when I was there with my mom. Why I didn't go there with my bestfriend is beyond me-. I had a wonderful financial surprise and so I will be taking enough money to come back with a Mulberry. I do hope my conscious feels the same way.

But, leaving Amsterdam also means leaving my house, my guinea pigs and my sweet babycat. I've left it in the care of my good friend M, but seeing as I'm the most stressed person in the world -well, second most - I think my fellow blogger may hold first place ha ha.- My house is now filled with notes. Notes for my books, my keys, food, cat care, guinea pig care, tv-use, bed, oven, window et cetera. I feel like a mad woman but, this is the very first time I leave my house for someone else. I've left it empty. I like empty because then I know nothing will happen. I trust M, but I don't trust my cat. I've had nightmares where Louis -cat- is sitting in the guinea pig cage looking all smug because he just scored two new Viktor & Rolf fur coats. Viktor & Rolf -guinea pigs- are actually bigger than him at the moment, but the way guinea pigs are built leaves them absolutely helpless against the lean mean fighting machine that is cat. I saw what he does to mice, it's not a pretty sight.

I'm a single 23 years young girl, with two guinea pigs and a cat. It doesn't get any more crazy pet persony than this... sigh.

Oh well, see you in Paris!

Come over to the darkside.

For my birthday -yes, another year closer to Botox- my beloved mother took me to a modern dance show. Though, I am not the type who "gets" the message they are trying to give, I do love all -ahum, most- forms of art and theatre. Thus, including this.

It was an amazing show but, I can honestly tell you it might have been the scariest thing I've ever seen. The lights kept going off -I am scared of the dark, still- and they kept making scary and loud noises. The characters were hard to identify. Most of the dancers were wearing black lycra leotards -looking like ninja's without the weapons- and the others were casually dressed in sloppy sweat pants and shirts. One of them was a baby. The umbilical cord gave it away... and maybe the fact that IT kept saying is was a baby. Another character was a sorcerer -more like a French sorcerer from the 1400s-. The last person I could identify was death. His long and beautiful gown gave that away. When he would jump up and down, the gown would actually bounce, eventhough the fabric would move seperately (and normal) when the person would walk. I don't know what it was made of, but I do know who made it.

Issey Miyake is my new favorite designer. The way he captured the whole idea of death in his gown, and the fact that he was immediately recognizable was incredible.

Unfortunately I couldn't find the DEATH gown, but I did find some other great designs.

Truth be told.

I had to babysit my favorite little girl yesterday, her name is Sterre and she's 7 years old. She is so different from all the other girls her age. She doesn't like dolls, barbie and all that stuff. She likes nature, drawing and reading... and me. As she once said: everyone she knows is 'people', but I am a girl. Sigh... Other peoples kids are so sweet. But, they are also way too honest. Besides her usual sweet hugs, kisses and remarks... She sometimes blurs out inconvenient truths like, "*sigh* your drawing is ugly, draw something else" and the worst one yet "your belly is fat".

My belly is fat. All my friends tell me I'm skinny but she tells me I'm fat. GREAT. I know I look good, but my belly is fat. I stopped eating carbs, mostly (obviously still drinking my beloved hazelnut soy lattes) but I have completely stopped now. Even the feeling after eating an entire carton of Haagendazs -750ml- couldn't compare the feeling I felt now. I unzipped my skirt immediately so not to feel my fat roll over the top of it.

After putting her to bed and getting a billion hugs and kisses, I felt ok again -still repeating to myself I would never eat again in my life-. Before she closed her eyes she told me I should write in her friendship book. I love friendship books. It's nice to be reminded who your friends were at a certain time in your life and what they were like. Anyway: her friendship book came straight out of the depths of hell!
One confronting question after another. It all started with: "How tall are you:..." I answered truthfully and wrote down my height... I've come to terms with my height. Followed by: "How much do you weigh:..." sigh.... I lied. Then "What makes you special:...." Uhmmmm.... And the last one: "What are you good at:...." Hmmmmm.... Uuh..Yes.... Mmmmmm... I. Am. Good. At.... Uhmm... Crap. Ok again. I. Am. Good. At.... Setting goals I can't reach? Giving up? No, no good. Uhmm. I wrote down: knitting.

Sad, really.

There were some fun questions like: "Who's your favorite artist:..." I wrote down the Prodigy. "What's your favorite movie:..." Donnie Darko. Mosts people answered Disney Films and Beyonce. I am cool. And my favorite question "Which three things would you bring to an uncharted Island:...." Uhm....The truth: My Blackberry, Jake Gyllenhaal and a bed. Hahaha. But, I wrote down: A working boat, a satellite phone with camera and my best friends..

Thank you captain obvious!

Don't you just hate when people are stating the total obvious and yet still seem surprised!

People looking at the empty jar, pointing at it even. And then still ask me: "Are the cookies finished?". Uhhhmmm no, I'm hiding them to annoy you. ;-)

That was it for now. I am at work now, you see and I had the brilliant idea to hook up my laptop to the sound system and put on Otis Redding. But, of course I am tempted to blog every now and then.

Ciao for now, I'll write again when some other... noob... comes along! -so, I'll see you again in about 5- hehe.

I can't get no... satisfaction

Nothing really to do with what I'm about to write, but I love Otis Redding and even though the Stones did a great version of this song, Otis is the master and there is no beating him.

Anyway on with it.

So, I was talking to my dear friend A. She came back from a trip to Canada and the States and I'm glad she's back. She was sitting at the table -I was working- and she was talking to some friends. I went to sit next to her and the guy on the other side of her stroked her arm and she said: "yea yea I have to wax my arms, I know". And my response was: "YOU WAX YOUR ARMS?!".. Has the beauty standard of women changed again without me knowing it? Was I living on a different planet? Is armhair gross now?

I have accepted the fact that women need to be tall -I wear high heels-. I have accepted the fact that women need to be skinny -I don't eat carbs-. I have accepted the fact that women cannot have hair on legs, private parts, armpits and upperlips -I shave my legs and am blessed with not having a mustache-. But, no armhair? Excusez moi! I love my armhair.

Immediately feeling self conscious I got up and walked away. Apparently she waxes her arms all the time.

I am putting my foot down! This has gone too far. I am keeping my armhair and if anyone has a problem with that... well... then.... bluggh!

Writing is what we do best.

"We are artistic souls, in not so artistic bodies. That is why we blog" 

Man candy

Saying fashion is limited to clothes and accessories is a little shortsighted and absolutely, completely and utterly wrong. One of the greatest fashion accessories is -apart from coffee- a guy. Having an absolutely gorgeous hottie next to you, holding your hand... loving you, is the best! A great guy will make every outfit look good.

Here's the love of my life. He makes me smile. He gives me hope. Makes my toes tingle. Even... makes me drool.

Fortunately he broke up with Reese ;-) I'll just have to bump into him one of these days.

The horror.

It started with feeling sick, sitting on the couch with a cup of tea, a bucket for the inconvenient throwing up a few Vogue's and my laptop.


Then it happened; once again I fell in love.


In love with the most beautiful bag in the world, and no this is not the 
-Iabsolutelymusthavethisbagbecausemyselfesteemneedsaboost- bag.
I spotted this gorgeous piece on the arm of one of my favourite girls: Ashley Olsen.


But, now you know why I am feeling totally depressed. 
I found out that this treasure does not only costs around 9K, it is vintage!


I do love Ashley now even more, but still I am a little pissed off. How in the world can we dress like our role models if you buy things we absolutely, not in a million years can buy.


Anyways, I wont bore you with my attempt to throw myself of the balcony.


The bag is Fendi, crocodile leather, black and shiny. 
If I had this bag I would probably hump it.

Mulberry.

For all you Mulberry lovers:


Mulberry is working on a more affordable line to sell at target.com !


Available from October 10 up till December 24.

Oh my Buddha!

Not to shock you all, but of course when my financial status hits rock bottom i get my invisible board and surf as cool as can be to Asos.com.


Then the worst thing ever happened.


I found this Viktor & Rolf inspired dress.


Luckily my hips told me this isn't a good look for me, so now i am eating celery sticks and am saving at the same time.


Si incroyablement belle, jouir!

Amour Dangereux

Ad infinitum

So there.

Now all kind of bells are going off in my head "nobody wants you to get a tattoo" , " You will never be taken seriously at a job interview", "Your dad would never ever have approved of this" and the most important one: " This is so not what Blair Waldorf would do'.

I calm myself down, take a sip of my Chai and tell myself over and over that it's about what I want, what I need, what I love and what I stand for.

Ironically my tattoo would say 'Let it be', and we all know that that is the thing I won’t be doing concerning this subject.

I absolutely love the phrase, love the song, love the Beatles and I adore where it stands for.

The voices in my head keep saying things to me that I do not really want to here, but since I am scared for arguments, I even listen to them.

Freja Beha, -the model with serious balls- has several kick ass tattoos.

I know I am not that pretty, but I guess that is not the first thought she had when she took the tattoos: 'Could I pull this off".  No, that is my issue.

Freja has a tattoo on her wrist which says: 'Tonight the world is mine'. Have you ever met someone this awesome? I have never. 

Well, I might as well say it: Let it be.

I'll keep you posted in the tattoo department.

God bless,

The mind works in mysterious ways

I suddenly realized which dress it was I was dreaming of.

Of course it had to be this dress. It has always been the dress of my dreams, created by my all time favorite designer, who unfortunately left us at an early age.

Behold the Percy [click]

Cigarettes and coffee...

I was in a panic. I wore a light-pink leather wedding dress and nothing was going as planned. For some reason the wedding I had pictured wasn't happening. I had to run so many errands and no one seemed willing to help me. Was I going mad? Where was everybody? Why was I all alone!

After a stressful morning the wedding was in the past. I was happy. I was married to somebody. I was a wife. Though I couldn't find my husband it didn't matter. I was walking over rooftops in my beautiful wedding dress. Not a care in the world. I was someones wife, for the rest of my life.

I woke up feeling all alone. Realizing I wasn't married, I wasn't someones beautiful wife. I didn't have the dress. I know I have a wild imagination but this was different. It wasn't some wacky dream with lots of different colors and locations. Everything in my dream had happened in my life and I knew everyone very well, they were all people I cared about or had cared about at some point in my life. My husband on the other hand stayed anonymous.

Five hours later I still remember most of my dream. I do so wish I had seen my husband.

Now I'm sitting at the Coffee Company drinking my large hazelnut soy latte and listening to Jeff Buckley. My whole morning is a blur even though I had a very busy morning -woke up at 8, cleaned my house, did the laundry, had breakfast, took a long shower-. My head hurts and inspiration is again... lost.

*yawn*

Damn you sun!

I don't do sun very well. Which is very unfortunate you see, for, I don't do snow and rain very well either. Snow is my archenemy. Wind is ok. I like wind.

Anyway. The sun is shining and I went from pretty pale to ugly painful red in about an hour. Now I'm hiding in my room, in my warm bed with the curtains closed. I think -maybe- I was born to be a vampire. But, I may have been reading too many vampire-stories.

As sun not only makes your skin look orange, gives you cancer, gives me a headache and kills plants, it also messes with my inspiration. Just so you have something to read and to give you another little peek into the lives of your wonderful bloggers, here's something that stops our hearts -or accelerates it, depending on our location and alcohol-level- and has absolutely nothing to do with fashion... what so ever!

The Prodigy!!

The one that got away.

Today I had an amazing but freightening thought.

What if, the person you always wanted to be when you grow up turns out forgotten when you get older.

When you grow older you get all kinds of trouble you have to cope with. In my opinion this is because when you get older the world around you changes mentally.

You don’t think the same about the stuff you admire as a child. A butterfly is pretty but not much noticed, but when you are a little kid this creature is the most outstanding life form you have ever -or will ever- seen.

I have the feeling this ability to see all the little things in the most positive way is slipping through my fingers every day.

For example, when I was a little girl I wanted to be a fashion designer (and of course a princess). For hours I would draw pictures of girls with high heels, dresses and hats. Little did I know what would happen to me in the same life but just a little later.

My mother told me I had a talent for drawing and writing stories. So I wanted to be a fashion designer or a famous writer, or both. I keep forgetting this, but when I come home from an exhausting day at work I suddenly realise how fast everything goes and how little time we have on this planet to do the things we always dreamed of doing. 

Now I am older (not that old, just older) I have so much famous role models, and still this one is my favourite: Carrie Bradshaw. She resembles my inner child in a grown up way so much it is scary. 

Why I am co writing this blog is a part of building my new life. Very slow but steady I am going in a new direction. I want to see beautiful things, do whatever comes to mind and believe in whatever I believed in when I was little.

Children are so much smarter than we all think. They see the world as we all should look at it. 

Remember; there is no such thing as bad people, only pretty butterflies.

There comes a time in every girl's life....

.... that they shop too much and are forced to burn their creditcard and spread the remains throughout the entire... WORLD so, not to do it again.

That time... is now.

I bought too much. It all started with the Louis Vuitton bag. Then, because I was so careful with it, I bought a key purse, so my keys wouldn't pierce my bag. Of course I couldn't buy an ordinary key purse, it had to match my Louis. And though it is almost summer and even in Amsterdam the sun is slowly making it's appearance, I felt the need to own a leather jacket - mind you that I'm the girl who rarely gets cold and faints when temperature rises -. So I finally found the leather jacket of my dreams. The lady who sold me the jacket asked me if I wanted a receipt. My hatred towards those tiny pieces of paper made me say no but the lady insisted. When I got home, I immediately crumbled up the receipt and threw it away. Of course, two days later I found a hole in my jacket and am now stuck with a broken leather jacket.
But, after the leather jacket debacle I started noticing my lack of money. So, I went vintage. Kris, my sister and I went to Episode which is a thriftshop here at Waterlooplein. Did you know that when you buy lots of cheap things, it adds up and you end up spending even more? Well, I do now.
Unfortunately that still isn't the end of it all. My new addiction of buying - and reading - books lead us - Kris and I - to the Waterstone. In search of the other Douglas Adams books  I ended up buying a new edition of The Hitchhikers Guide and the third book (I still need the second, fourth and fifth). Only buying them because I wanted the limited edition Puffin bag. I don't know what a puffin is, I just found it extremely cute. I then got the idea to buy a new purse. And since I absolutely love Hugo Boss we went to the Bonneterie to find one. I did not find what I was looking for but I did find a pair of adorable Boss Orange flip flops. I bought them.... with my creditcard.

At home, I did the unthinkable. I checked my money situation online. It was a horrible sight. In a panic attack I did what I always do in these situations: call my mom. Obviously I didn't tell her about the books, the vintage, the shoes, the key purse and all the sushi we've been eating (she already knew about the bag, I must have been in some insane mental state to actually tell her how much I paid for the bag, her response was: "don't ever tell your grandma, she will have a heart attack") and she wasn't angry but just disappointed (we all know that's way worse!) and she said that she was worried that I don't know the value of money. I told her: "No, I do not". An honest response, but I really don't. I think spending 1400 on a chanel bag is reasonable, 700 on a pair of Mary Jane's is duable. I don't know the value of money and until now, it never was a problem. I'm not saying this little predicament I'm in isn't serious, but I will -as always- work things out.

When my ex-boyfriend broke up with me, he sent me an angry email saying I was living on a pink cloud and I had to stop thinking I was a Gossip Girl and my life wasn't like The Hills and I wasn't Carrie Bradshaw. I laughed at it and told all my friends what an odd observation that was. I didn't think like that. Okay I admit I live on a pink cloud but that's only because I like it there. My fantasy world is so much better than the real world. But I knew I would never be like Blair or Lauren or Whitney. I am Pearl, the girl with all the lucky breaks and the great friends and the cute guys and the drama.
But, after the other day I now see what he meant. I do, in a way, think I am like them. To me, all those things seem easy accessible. "If I don't buy anything for three weeks, I will have a Chanel" and at the end of the day I will be in serious trouble or by the time those three weeks are up I will have splurged my money on other things.

I just need to stop spending money. No more Hugo Boss, no more sushi, no more Louis.... and... *sigh* no Chanel. I need to pay my bills first.