Elsje Fiederelsje

A little holiday resolution

2010-07-07T08:41:00.000-07:00

Amidst the bustle of student life, I often think of the many things I would like to do, if only I could find the time to do them. Well, summer break has come and now I have time. To make sure I actually make good use of my summer days, instead of wasting them away in my usual Oblomov-like fashion, I am hereby going to make one binding holiday resolution. Dear reader, do feel invited to hold me up on this.

As you may know, since the beginning of this year I have converted to vegetarianism. That is, I no longer eat meat and try to avoid any other foods for which animals are hurt as much as I reasonably can. The thing that has surprised me the most about becoming a vegetarian, is how easy it actually was to give up foods that I used to enjoy on a more than daily basis. Reflecting on my new found consumer commandments, I've (knowingly) sinned three times in the last half year. Damage done: 1 tuna fish pizza, 1 portion of sea food pasta and 1 irresistably yummy looking calamari ring picked from a friend's plate. For a recent convert, I don't think I did that bad. And the best part is, I generally didn't feel like I was missing out on anything. Admittedly, it did slightly sting when I had to watch the rest of the family munch away at dad's famously good crispy baked salmon - so yes, there were some sacrifices to be made. But overall, I don't feel like my quality of life has gone down since I've been restricting myself on the eating-of-animals-department.

This experience has led me to wonder about my consumerism in general. If it was this easy to give up on meat and it's consorts, what else am I using that I could actually do without perfectly fine?

I don't have to go over my bank account records to conclude that I mostly boost the economy through 'investments' in the fashion world. Now, contrary to what many people seem to think, I am not a complete mindless consumer when it comes to clothes, shoes and accessories. Even though I have a lot of them, I have definitive limits as to what I'm willing to spend on different types of garments and the main part of my wardrobe is actually made up of bargains and thrifted finds. Over the years I have become very selective in what I buy and therefore it hasn't happened in ages that I bought something that doesn't get worn much. In that sense, I do not think I am a 'wasteful' shopper.
However, it certainly would not hurt me to grow some awareness about the ethics behind my purchases. Where did the product come from? How was it manufactured and by whom? How do these people get payed and what are their working conditions? What are the effects on the environment? Were any animals killed for this product and if so, in what way? Last but not least: taking the answers to such questions into consideration, should I reconsider purchasing the item in question?

Truely tackling ethical shopping, requires knowledge about the origins of materials and the manufacturing process of fashion products. After all, it's as easy to be misled by the advertising of garments as the advertising of food. For example: much like free range eggs aren't as 'free' range as the name would imply, 'organic' cotton isn't as sustainable as one would suppose from it's certification. Personally, I only found out yesterday that whether it's organically produced or not, it takes about 2000 liters of water to manufacture one cotton t-shirt. Though the softness and breathability of the fabric are great assets in the eyes of those concerned with consumer demands, cotton turns out to be a no-no when it comes to sustainable design.

The following weeks I will attempt to educate myself on little wishy-washy details like this and adjust my shopping behaviour according to my findings. At the moment, I'm not quite sure where this road is going to take me. I don't know what I'm going to find out, I don't know how I'm going to feel about it and I don't know what I'll be willing to give up for the sake of the environment, humanity and other creatures of this world. At the very least, I suspect that knowing what I am consuming will be intrinsically valuable, even if it will merely establish a sense of appreciation for the individuals and the matter involved.

I also suspect the giving-up part is going to be a tough cookie. Case in point: I'm wearing London Sole ballet flats at the moment. When it comes to shoes, my tastes are very specific. What I love about London Sole is that - season after season - they keep producing the same trusted models in a plethora of different materials and finishes. When I'm in need of a new pair of ballet flats, all I have to do is search for their Pirouette style; I know these shoes have the deeper plunge and the flat heel I prefer and I can be sure to find them in a variety of fine materials. However, I do not know anything about the origins of these materials, nor do I know anything about the production process of the shoes. On the website, there is no info to be found about the ethics of the company at all. Of course, this doesn't have to mean London Sole is devoid of morals, but it does mean I cannot check up on them. One rule I have already established for myself is the following: if a company is not transparent about their approach to matters of sustainability and fair trade, do not buy their products.

Thus, no more London Sole ballet flats for me. There goes one wardrobe staple. The pair I'm wearing right now happen to have a leather upper as well - a material I suspect I might have to refrain from in general. But let's inform ourselves about the industry before jumping to conclusions, shall we? In my quest for 'clean' clothing and the like, my next post will revolve around the subject of leather, it's processing and possible alternatives. Because, indeed, I'm planning on sharing this journey with you. Consider this an open invitation to join me and put your own shopping behaviour under the looking glass. I promiss I won't judge. After all, I'm just as bad as you are.

I might very well be worse. In case you're an ethically savvy reader, I would love your input. I'm very much aware that this is a tricky subject with a thousand different facets, impossible to uncover by one person alone. So if you know of any brands that combine great design with great responsibility; if you know of any materials that one should particulary avoid; if you spot me buying into false sustainability or fair trade advertising: please be so kind to share your valuable knowledge. Do consider me interested.

[Illustration from ranranland @ flickr]

There's nothing new under the sun, or why our generation is not exceptional in sucking

2010-06-16T09:30:00.000-07:00

Since I'm finally back at posting today, I figured I might as well share this little ditty I wrote for our student society's paper, together with Nathalie, who is most definitely one of my favourite people walking planet earth at present. It's written in Dutch. Sorry to all you non-Dutchies.

Niks nieuws aan de horizon
Onze generatie volgens Frits, Martijn en (Mental) Theodore

Omdat deze Pegagraaf toch al in het teken staat van kennismaking, willen wij jullie ten eerste voorzien van een nieuwe pick-up line. Stel je voor: je bent net aan het checken of je haar nog goed zit in het spiegelbeeld van je bierflesje. Wanneer je opkijkt, zit er opeens een lekker chickie / hete vent op de barkruk naast je. Als je nu aan hem of haar voorstelt om ‘je samen te laten gaan in een golf van emoties’, dan is er een kans van zo’n 50% dat jouw object van belangstelling dit kan waarderen. Aldus, Frits en Martijn.
Welnu, fijn dat we de aandacht er bij hebben. Wellicht vraag je jezelf af wat de kwalificaties van Frits en Martijn zijn. Dit duo heeft een onderzoek verricht over onze generatie en kan jou daarom precies vertellen hoe jij aantrekkelijke generatiegenoten aan de haak kunt slaan. Oké, misschien is dat laatste niet helemaal hun ding. Mogen wij op sociologen stuiten die hier wel in gespecialiseerd zijn, dan brengen wij je vanzelfsprekend op de hoogte. Nu willen wij het graag hebben over jou, je vriendjes en vriendinnetjes. En hún vriendjes en vriendinnetjes. En eigenlijk álle vriendjes en vriendinnetjes tussen de 15 en 23 jaar.

Over jullie hebben sociaal wetenschapper Frits Spangenberg en vrijetijdsdeskundige Martijn Lampert namelijk een boek geschreven: 'De grenzeloze generatie en de eeuwige jeugd van hun opvoeders'. Op basis van tien jaar waarden-onderzoek, menen Lampert en Spangenberg ‘geheel nieuwe verschijnselen, zonder parallellen in de onderzoeksgeschiedenis’ te hebben gesignaleerd. Deze geheel nieuwe verschijnselen houden onder andere in dat de jeugd van tegenwoordig gefascineerd is door ego en uiterlijk, leeft voor kicks and thrills en weinig maatschappelijke of politieke betrokkenheid toont. Over de generatie voor ons zijn ze ook al niet te spreken, want die falen in onze opvoeding, terwijl ze zich verwoed proberen te verzetten tegen het onontkoombare verouderingsproces. Onder het mom van vriendschap met het kroost is het uitoefenen van gezag tot taboe verworden, waardoor zelfbeheersing en verantwoordelijkheidsgevoel gebrekkig op ons worden overgedragen. Dit alles resulteert in een groeiende jeugdproblematiek; comazuipen, fast food diëten, spijbelen, agressie en meer van dat soort zaken. Het beeldmateriaal liegt er niet om; het oog wordt getrakteerd op moonende mediamarkt-gangers, scootermeisjes met mega-muffin-tops en stelletjes die zoenen in het zwembad onder schijnbaar luid gejoel van leeftijdsgenoten.

Waarschijnlijk heeft het voorgaande veel weg van het ‘vroeger-was-alles-beter’ verhaal dat je oma tegen je ophangt als je bij haar op de thee komt. Waarom schrijven we hier eigenlijk over? Worden we niet al doodgegooid met berichtgeving over de losgeslagen jeugd van tegenwoordig? Dat klopt. Juist omdat wij overal om ons heen te horen krijgen dat niets hetzelfde is gebleven, wilden wij in het kader van ‘nieuw’ eens uitvogelen in hoeverre dat overeenkomt met de werkelijkheid. Eigenlijk is onze generatie ook best fascinerend. Waarom doen wij zoveel minder dan onze voorouders, maar hebben we toch meer behoefte aan tijd voor onszelf? Hoe is het mogelijk dat de Nederlandse jeugd in een Unicef onderzoek als gelukkigste ter wereld uit de bus komt, terwijl bureau jeugdzorg en de geestelijke hulpverlening omkomen in het werk? Hoe komt het dat in een hypergeïndividualiseerde samenleving, toch zoveel jongeren uren besteden aan het observeren van andermans leven via facebook, reality tv en roddelbladeren?

Wij dachten in dit boek antwoorden te kunnen vinden op dergelijke vragen. De uitkomsten van het onderzoek waren niet bepaald schokkend. Ze duiden inderdaad op structurele verschuivingen tussen de mentaliteit van hedendaagse jongeren en jongeren van dertig jaar geleden. Of tenminste, zo interpreteerden wij dat. Aangezien de auteurs stellen nieuwe verschijnselen te hebben geconstateerd, gingen wij er van uit dat ze hun data over ‘de grenzeloze generatie’ hadden vergeleken met data over de jeugd van toen. Hieronder een voorbeeld van de vragen die zoal in het ‘mentality-onderzoek’ voorkwamen.

Van tijd tot tijd doe ik graag dingen die eigenlijk risicovol zijn.
Oudere generaties (1970 en eerder) 26%
Pragmatische generatie (1971 – 1985) 39%
Grenzeloze generatie (1986 en later) 50% - t.o.v. 98/99, toen 58%

Voor de duidelijkheid, de percentages geven aan welk deel van de respondenten de stelling beaamt. Wij constateerden hieruit dat het aantal jongeren dat graag risicovolle dingen onderneemt in dertig jaar verdubbeld is. Zo maakten wij ook op dat het aantal jongeren dat ‘geweld op een prettige manier spannend kan vinden’ verdrievoudigd is en dat het aantal jongeren dat zich betrokken voelt bij de politiek ruimschoots gehalveerd is. Onderhand begonnen wij een beetje last te krijgen van plaatsvervangende schaamte.

Ons heil gezocht in Johnny Walker en Jack Daniels, zaten wij teneergeslagen te overwegen of we überhaupt nog wel een stuk over onze deprimerende generatiegenoten wilden schrijven. Onze wil werd niet versterkt, toen wij met lede ogen het voorwoord van ´De Grenzeloze Generatie´ lazen, van de hand van Theodore Dalrymple a.k.a. Edward Theberton a.k.a. Thursday Msigwa a.k.a. Anthony M. Daniels. Als je meer wilt weten over dit illustere figuur, adviseren we je gebruik te maken van je generatiebepaalde Google talenten. Hoe dan ook, het boze oog van Theodore voorspelt niet veel goeds. Hij maakt zich zorgen over de onstuitbare opmars van de eigendunk. Door de opkomst van hedonisme en radicaal individualisme loopt de mens het risico "zich zó in zichzelf te verliezen, dat het kritische vermogen tot oprechte zelfbeschouwing wordt uitgeschakeld. Hun manieren raken in verval; ze verliezen het vermogen zich in een ander te verplaatsen; ze behandelen medemensen alsof die slechts middelen zijn om hun eigen doelen te bereiken." Onder invloed van Johnny, Jack en Theodore, hadden wij inmiddels zo’n intense hekel jegens onze generatiegenoten ontwikkelt dat wij überhaupt geen stuk meer voor ze wilden neer pennen. We besloten te gaan slapen.

Gezien onze ouders toch enig plichtsgevoel op ons hebben overgedragen, kwamen wij een drietal dagen later samen voor een volgende vergadersessie. En op deze vierde dag, sloeg een derde copernicaanse wending in. Wij realiseerden ons dat ‘De Grenzeloze Generatie’ minstens twee dingen gemeen heeft met de Bijbel; het herbergt een snufje moralisme en de interpretatie ervan kan verstrekkende gevolgen hebben. Zo leidde onze interpretatie van de onderzoeksresultaten tot een traumatische vertekening van het toch al sceptische beeld dat wij hadden van onze lichting van Homo Sapiens. Maar na ons verdiept te hebben in de kleine lettertjes, bleek dat het eigenlijk allemaal wel mee viel. De heren Spangenberg en Lampert hebben hun data over hedendaagse jongeren namelijk niet vergeleken met data over jongelui van dertig, respectievelijk twintig jaar geleden. Wat ze hebben gedaan, is het waardepatroon van de jeugd van tegenwoordig vergelijken met dat van de ouderen van tegenwoordig. Dit werpt een heel ander licht op hun bevindingen. Is het verbazend dat pubers en postpubers zich meer aangetrokken voelen tot risicovol gedrag dan settelende dertigers en gesettelde veertigplussers? Na deze omslag in perspectief, werden wij opeens overspoeld door allerlei warme gevoelens voor onze generatiegenoten. Nu wij geen structurele daling meer zien in het aantal jongeren dat ‘wil weten waar hun bank het geld in belegt’, zijn wij bijvoorbeeld best onder de indruk van de 37% die zich daar mee bezighoudt. Wij hebben ons dat nou nog nooit afgevraagd.

Wat wij ons wel afvragen is of Theodore de Misantropische dit boek behandelt als slechts een middel om zijn eigen doelen te bereiken. Hoewel jongeren inderdaad meer op zichzelf zijn gericht dan hun ouders, is een grote meerderheid van mening dat iedereen zich persoonlijk behoort in te zetten voor de gemeenschap. Om dan van wijdverspreid hedonisme te spreken, lijkt een grove overdrijving die goed past in een lange geschiedenis van generatie-bashen. Zo werden de volgende woorden al enige tijd geleden door Plato aan Socrates toegeschreven: “The children now love luxury; they have bad manners, contempt for authority; they show disrespect for elders and love chatter in place of exercise. Children are now tyrants, not the servants of their households. They no longer rise when elders enter the room. They contradict their parents, chatter before company, gobble up dainties at the table, cross their legs, and tyrannize their teachers.” Voor generatietypische cultuurbarbaren: Socrates leefde rond de 4de eeuw voor Christus. Er is veel gebeurt sindsdien, maar klachten over de kids lijken een constante.

Als het onderzoeksbureau Motivaction nieuwe verschijnselen had willen aantonen, dan hadden ze onderzoek moeten doen naar de jeugd van nu in vergelijking met de jeugd uit het verleden. In het boek worden tussen de regels door wel de uitkomsten van het mentality-onderzoek in 1998/1999 gedeeld, maar je moet zelf de moeite nemen om die te vergelijken met de metingen uit 2007/2008. Wanneer men zich hier toe weet te zetten, blijkt er de afgelopen tien jaar vooral veel sprake van continuïteit te zijn. Er springen echter wel een aantal curieuze ontwikkelingen in het oog. Zo maakten in 1998 20% meer jongeren zich zorgen over de schade die door mensen aan de aarde wordt toegebracht. Destijds beweerden ook meer jongeren dat ze probeerden om milieubewust te leven. In het licht van de schijnbaar toegenomen berichtgeving over het milieu, is die negatieve verschuiving in het bewustzijn van de jeugd moeilijk te duiden. Nog zoiets opmerkelijks, is de toename van het aantal jongeren dat vindt dat ´de rol die de vrouw in de maatschappij moet vervullen die van een goede moeder en echtgenote is´. Hoe is dat nou mogelijk, terwijl zelfs Wouter Bos zijn glansrijke carrière heeft moeten opgeven omdat hij ook zo nodig iets moet bijdragen aan het opvoedingsproces?
Wij denken dat Spangenberg en Lampert beter hadden kunnen proberen dit soort trends te begrijpen, in plaats van onze generatie te demoniseren op basis van weinig bewijsmateriaal. Misschien voel jij je – als gemotiveerde, geïnteresseerde, niet-generatietypische ASW-er – geroepen om je hierop te storten? Wat wij in ieder geval wél van Frits en Martijn hebben geleerd, is dat de term Bling Bling niet is afgeleid van het ‘klinkt-als’ werkwoord blinken, maar van het geluid dat metalen sieraden maken als je ze tegen elkaar aan ketst. Weer een nieuwtje voor tijdens het avondeten.

In response to a letter

2010-06-16T06:08:00.000-07:00

I imagine at the age of 32
I’ll have this box full of letters
And they’ll all read something
along the lines of
‘you deserve better’

It will be my hallmark,
a widely supported claim
to my 'female supremacy'
above any man inflicting me pain

Yet somehow I suspect
this bulging box of letters
at the age of 32
will not make me feel better

Somehow I'm quite sure
whether 20 or 32,
I would trade in the whole box
for a spoken word from you

It's just a theory, but...

2010-01-24T10:24:00.000-08:00

...could it be that artist Kristine Moran and designer Mary Katrantzou are secretly the same person?

Piece of evidence #1: one of my favourite paintings ever, accompanied by one of my favourite dresses of the season...

Coincidence? I think not, ladies and gentlemen of the jury!
You see, there's much more to consider...

Particulary striking about this last comparison, is that the painting shown above is called 'Swan Wish'. Now, is it just me, or do I spot a wing-like piece of fabric gracing someone's shoulder?
Apart from all this visual evidence, has anyone noticed the suspicious amount of similar letters that appear in the names of both Mary Katrantzou and Kristine Moran?

Alright, enough with the amateur-detective-paranoia. But seriously, I am wondering whether I'm correct in assuming that Moran's work has been a major inspiration for Katrantzou in preparation for spring? If so, I think she deserves some credit, yet the only information I can find about Katrantzou's theme is the following via Sarah Mower at Style.com:

"For Spring, the wavy, multicolored trompe l'oeil patterns were an intensification of the research into perfume bottles Katrantzou used last Fall. This time, she'd gotten sucked into the visual possibilities of the spiraling, fluid forms of artisanal blown glass. "It became more free-form, and kind of organic," she said of her collection."

I have to say, I can absolutely imagine the liquidlike prints of the dresses originating from such ideas. And as a former fashion student, I'm also aware that it's absolutely possible to unknowingly reinvent something that's 'sort of' been done before* and can see how the similarity between Moran's and Katrantzou's work might just be a coincidence. In that case, does anyone agree that it would be awesome if the ladies would start up an artist/designer collaberation to celebrate their strikingly shared sense of aesthetics? Personally, I can hardly imagine the beauty that would come of such a thing...

*Embarrasingly enough, I once designed several pieces that were very reminiscent of Castelbajac's famous teddy bear coat.

Please read this book...

2010-01-06T08:02:00.000-08:00

At the risk of losing my current fanbase*, my first post after a long period of absence is going to be yet another attempt at increasing your social awareness. Oh yes, I've spoken about genocides, made not-so-subtle references towards deforestation and today, oh trembling subjects, I'm going to haunt you with the evils of the meat industry.

Actually, toss that. I'll leave the haunting up to Jonathan Safran Foer and his latest book Eating Animals. But yeah, please read it. Especially if you eat meat, like I still did less than three weeks ago.
I was planning to quote some passages from the book that might draw you in. However, I already eagerly passed out my copy to my grandma, so it seems the video below will have to do instead.

This may actually be old news to many, but frankly I don't care. It's been good to see how much attention Foer has been getting with this and I would love to add some more to that anytime.

*Joking aside, the thought that six people out there are willingly reading my random rambling boggles my mind. Welcome and ehr... I thank thee all for putting op with me.

I don't even like pink that much.

2009-08-15T02:11:00.001-07:00

By now, you've probably heard of a certain blogger's pen pal relationship with John Hughes. If not, we're talking about a penpal relationship with - yes - the recently deceased John Hughes, writer of movies like The Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller's Day Off and Pretty in Pink, among many others. I was strangely moved when I read about it. Not because Hughes happened to be a celebrity and was 'gracious enough' to get on a personal basis with a fan, but rather because he seemed to understand how much of an impact he could have on singular people and their lifes. I think people often overvalue the impression they leave on the entire world and undervalue the impression they leave on those who are actually close to them. John Hughes clearly didn't do either and ended up leaving a grand impression on both. Maybe you don't have a clue what I'm rambling on about. I suggest you read the original post.

Yesterday evening I decided to rewatch Pretty In Pink in Hughes memory.
I remember seeing it at age ten or something and liking it even then, but naturally I was too young to fully appreciate the occassionally brilliant dialogue and the accurate portrayal of the teenage emotional landscape. Also, I wasn't into fashion enough to be properly inspired by Molly Ringwalds DIY chic.
Well, now I am...

I love the outfits above, but I have to say that overall Andy Walsh's style is still a bit too frilly and frumpy for my tastes. The character that hardly can do any wrong in my eyes is Iona. Admittably that hairdo in her first scene is a little bit iffy. And when she cleans up her look for her new lover she really does look like a 'mom'. But... just look at this...

Finally, the person who seriously can not do any wrong ever, may it be style- or characterwise, is of course Duckie. If I ever find my own personal Duckie, I will marry him for sure.

Hmmhmm. Definitely my new favourite movie scene.

[Screencaps from Striped Wall]

She may have overdosed...

2009-08-14T03:33:00.000-07:00

People change so that you can learn to let go, things go wrong so you can appreciate them when they are right, you believe lies so you eventually learn to trust no one but yourself...

I still think Marilyn Monroe was on to something there.

If you like to look at pictures...

2009-08-13T06:32:00.000-07:00

That's great. Because I like taking them.

These are all shots I took in Singapore and Bali when I went there with my parents last May. There's more to be seen on my flickr.

Eternal sunshine of the spotted mind

2009-08-12T15:21:00.000-07:00

It was around this time a year ago when I was getting all set to leave my home country. I had just graduated and was extatic to finally be freed from the dreadfully dull existence I associated with high school. So I flew off to London; a holy place where no one knew me, a place where I could shed any preconceived notions people had about me, a place where any deciding about who I was would be done by myself.

Naturally, I fell flat on my face. By the end of january I was back home safe and sound, crying in my sister's arms. All the things that had happened after I left Holland overwhelmed me. It felt like, in a period of mere six months, I'd experienced more 'firsts' than I had ever gone through in my entire life. Going to live on my own in a foreign country where I didn't really know anyone was just one of them; I felt truly insecure about my abilities for the first time, causing me to fail miserably in my fashion design course. I had my first drunken night. I had my first kiss. I had the first time. I got to know what love actually feels like. Unfortunately, I also got to know what it feels like to have your heart broken. I was confronted with my weaknesses in a way I had never been before and I discovered parts of myself that I never even knew existed.

The irony in this, is that much of it sounds ridiculously similar to the kind of stuff people go through in - well - high school. Except in my case, apparently those things decided to come along a little late and consequently squeezed themselves into six months, rather than six years. Take note of the fact that my life was practically on hold before I left the motherland and you might be able to understand that in London I felt somewhat like a traffic regulator on an overly crowded crossroads. My emotions were like cars, cabs and double deckers (pun intended) approaching at high speed from every direction. A fool could have predicted the collision that was coming up. So I did the obvious: I got myself out of the danger zone.

Alas, I was back in my parents house, a prime example of failed independence. Many of the ideas I'd always believed in - the admittedly naive thought that love conquers all, to name something - now seemed laughable. Frankly, I didn't know what to believe in at all anymore and I didn't have a clue what to do with my life either. The only wish I had left was to become a stronger person, angry as I was with myself for not being able to deal with some small bumps in the road.

Sounds painful, doesn't it? Well, it was. But that's alright. I've never been of the 'everything-happens-for-a-reason' persuasion, but I'm starting to believe that you can assign reason to a lot of stuff if you want to. Shit happens. It's inevitable. I've let myself be bothered with the smell for a while, but now I'm making manure out of it. When someone asks me wether I regret the way things turned out, I can confidently tell them the opposit:

I am grateful for the way things turned out. I am grateful for any opportunity to learn. I am grateful for a situation that has forced me to deal with my weaknesses. I am grateful for being made aware that by hurting myself, I also hurt those around me. I am grateful for all the people I have met in London. I am grateful for accepting my imperfections. I am grateful for realising that growth has to start somewhere. I am grateful for recognizing my limitations. I am grateful for having to question what will make me happy. I am grateful for being free to find out what that is. I am grateful for having experienced love. I am grateful for all the beautiful moments we did share. I am grateful for realising what I need out of a relationship. I am grateful for learning to let go of things. I am grateful for rediscovering parts of myself I had forgotten about. I am grateful for finding out what I need out of a friend. I am grateful for learning to appreciate the people in my life more. I am grateful for my family who always stands by me. I am grateful for becoming aware of things I need to change about myself. I am grateful for the unexpected difference a few months can make.

I am grateful for so many things, that I probably forgot to list half of them. However, more than anything, I am grateful for finally knowing I am in charge of my own happiness. Whatever may happen, no one can take that away from me now.

Enchantment awaits around every corner...

2009-08-10T14:53:00.001-07:00

This morning I felt sad for no apparent reason, so I decided to get out of the house and take some pictures. When it comes to cheering myself up, there are few things as effective as trying to get a nice shot. Does anyone know if something like photography therapy exists? Because if it doesn't, I think it totally should. It's hard not to feel happy when you're focussing on finding the beauty in things. Well, it works for me anyway!

That would be my dog up there. Tomorrow I'll get my old flickr account going again and start documenting my latest picture-taking endeavours. But now it's time for my beauty sleep; if I'm to believe my sister, today I woke up looking like Casper - the translucent little ghost, that is.

I did not think of you when I saw this...

2009-08-05T12:20:00.000-07:00

Thin Lines by Susan Anderson. (Via Wesley Yendrys)

In Darfur there is a religious believe that you can't kill a virgin. Unfortunately for young girls, the "solution" for this is rape.

2009-08-04T07:57:00.000-07:00

This is just one of the 100 tweets suggested at Hail Mary, which - in a collective tweeting effort - were supposed to make a trending topic out of the enduring genocide in Sudan. When I was clicking the links in my previous post (I regret to admit I do these kind of things), I came upon Tavi's blog again and she reminded me of this whole Twitter thing that was happening last wednesday. Almost a week has passed since then and I don't even have a Twitter account, but I'd still like to help at making a topic out of Darfur.

It's crazy how little news coverage the methodical killing of thousands of people in Sudan is getting. It seems there's been more hype about the denial of a genocide that went on roughly 100 years ago, than buzz about the Darfur genocide which is still going on today. It must be said that the subject has been widely discussed in the media when the conflict first started about five years back in time. However, it seems that as the years roll by, Darfur is increasingly being considered old news. It's true that the situation in Sudan has not changed much - villages are still burned for no good reason, innocent men are still killed and innocent women are still raped before they are killed. But it's high time for the press to wake up and realise that the same old situation is still worth reporting about. Of course it is... It's a freaking genocide. We can't afford to let something like this fly off the political radar, however old it has or will ever become.

One great thing about modern communication is that basically anyone can spread the word about something they feel is important. If what's happening in Darfur is important to you, you can post about it on your blog, tweet about it on your Twitter account or send out a chainmail to everyone in your contactlist. But even raising just one person's awareness, by bringing it up in a random conversation, can be helpful. And in case you feel like you know too little about the genocide yourself, I think this powerpoint (courtesy of STAND) offers a pretty good roundup of the unfathomable conflict.

A tablecloth and boxershort-clad Supergranny

2009-07-26T15:13:00.000-07:00

I have this Vivienne Westwood ring which I wear almost as religously as my mom's old pocket watch. The funny thing is, while I'd usually rather refrain from being a walking label, this ring has the designers name engraved on it in huge letters. And yet I can't help but like it. I guess it's because the shape reminds me of an ancient scroll and I like things that have a historic air about them. Besides, it was a gift from a friend. She'd only known me for three days when she gave it to me and it sort of... well... it was a very touching gesture.

However, there's always been that small part of me feeling weird about the dame's name wrapped around my finger. Since she's practically the pioneer of punk, her name stands for much more than just a label. But the thing is, I've never really identified with that whole subculture, especially the aftermath of it, when punk itself started to become a mold. These days punk kids seem so focussed on being 'different', it makes me wonder if they ever focus on being themselves. I just want to shake their piercinged-studded-shredded-black-and-tartan-cladded bodies and scream: "don't conform, don't rebel, just be!" Isn't that the best way to honour the originals anyway? They fought for freedom of expression; I'd say they'd want you to make use of yours.

To be fair, it isn't really Vivienne's fault that people deformed the spirit of the original movement. When she and Malcolm Mclaren opened SEX, the stuff they sold there may have been meant to provoke, but back then provocation was relevant. Over the course of her career as a designer Westwood's work has become less rebellious and more authentic, not to mention technically substantial. She's not just kicking against things anymore, she actually has something to offer.

But you know what? In the end none of this matters. A few days ago I stumbled upon the following interview with Vivienne (on Tavi's blog, I think), which officially put any labelwhoring shame into the past. Turns out the name Vivienne Westwood doesn't stand for the fashion label, nor the punk revolution. It just stands for a genuinely cool person. Honestly, I wish this wise woman dressed in tablecloths and boxershorts was my grandma. I'm glad to say I will forever wear my Vivienne Westwood ring with pride!

That's it for now. I'm off to save the rainforests!

Soul mates and other Psychedelia

2009-07-24T09:41:00.000-07:00

I am reading Eat, Pray, Love at the moment and I've decided that Elizabeth Gilbert and I are kindred spirits. We are really very much alike; almost like soulmates, which is slightly ironic, because there are actually some passages about that exact subject in the book.
I used to think of a soul mate as someone who's connected to you, not because you both are the same, but rather because some essential part of you clicks to some essential part of him or her. Much like the functioning of a receptor molecule or even something as simple as a key fitting to a lock. The spare of the lock is the protruding element of the key and the spare of the key is the protruding element of the lock. Similarly, without that person in your life, you will always be left with a negative space.
That's what I used to think. Honestly, these days (also known as the era of coming to terms with the loss of my first love) I try to not think about it at all. None the less, this book is changing my perception of what soul mates are. Maybe a soul mate is not meant to fill your voids after all. Maybe a soul mate is just supposed to make you more conscious of the nature of those voids. So you can start filling them up yourself, you know?
Ah, I foresee that finishing Eat, Pray, Love is going to make me sad. It will be like losing that one friend who'll tell you honestly, that even though high waisted pants are widely approved off in the fashion scene, your bum simply doesn't look good in them.

Now, for some lighter reading, there are so many things I've been loving lately. For example, I love the following quote by Jimi Hendrix:

"When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will finally know peace."

I'm also digging the acid dress that is below on display, which I thought I'd share with you today, since I'm on this flower power trip anyway. Display, today, anyway. No, I'm not 'on' anything. Just high on love, baby.

I need to get this dress for two reasons. One is that my recently acquired blouse with stripes in many (if not all) colours of the rainbow has convinced me that I look good in things that are vaguely reminiscent of traditional Dutch multicolored candycanes. No really, I do. The other is that my all-over sequined leggings are in need of a serious rival in the what-piece-of-clothing-in-my-wardrobe-can-freak-out-my-mom-most-contest. The first time she saw me wearing those she could only utter the word 'gross' after silently staring at my legs for about thirty seconds. In need of a serious rival, indeed.

Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it. Begin it now.

2009-07-22T08:47:00.000-07:00

Truthfully, I've been pondering over my first blog post for a few days now. Not from 9 to 5 or anything, but it did occasionally cross my mind.
"So, this first blog post, how does one go about it?" I would ask myself.
"I'm afraid I'll have to introduce myself, isn't it?"
"Really, do I have to?"
"I mean, what am I going to say?"
"I guess I'll have to explain why I started the blog and all of that crap."
"Actually, why did I start a blog?"
"Shit. Does this make me an exhibitionist?"
"Does it matter if I'm an exhibitionist?"
"Can't I just post that youtube vid of the Hey Ya cover by Obediah Parker?"

No, of course I can not. I could never do such a thing. You see, to you and many other people who happen to be in the possesion of sanity, something like a first blog post may seem trivial. But to me, unfortunately, it does not.

I have a bit of a problem. It's a quiet problem. The kind you would only ever realise you have after a lot of soul searching. I happen to do a lot of soul searching. It's another problem of mine. But let us stick to this one for now. What was I saying? Oh yes. This is not the kind of problem that will upset the neighbours. Had I been a different person, it probably wouldn't even upset myself. But I'm not. I'm little old me. So here it is:

I feel like I have to justify everything I do.

I know. It doesn't sound very problematic. To be fair, it's a character trait that has proved to be quite useful to me at certain times in my life. It keeps me on the straight path, you know. Therefore it may be - in itself - the oppposit of a problem.

The thing is, I am haunted by this other problem that may also be - in itself - the opposit of a problem. And when the two come together, the opposit parts add up. So what's left is just a problem. Or, to be mathematically correct: two problems. For those of you who require visual stimulation (I know you're out there, my ex-boyfriend is just like you!) here's, well, a slightly more visual representation of the situation at hand:

(-problem) + (-problem) = 2 problems

WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?
Alright, I'll cut the crap. Sometimes I get this urge to create something. Usually it takes form in writing. That just seems to come most naturally. But it doesn't have to. For example, not so long ago I felt like shooting a fashion editorial. I would title it Dogma Smogma, or something along those lines. It would question stupid fashion commandments, like 'never mix clashing colours' or 'don't wear socks and sandals'. Then I figured there are so many supposed sartorial do-nots, some cool free-spirited fashion magazine could easily do a monthly item on defying them. However, where I come from such a cool free-spirited fashion magazine is unheard of. I decided that, obviously, I should start one. It would offer inspiration without dictation. I had it all worked out. Actually, it would be more than a fashion magazine. It would be aimed at a niche of fun-loving freethinking people, the kind who still have ideals amidst this battle-of-who-could-care-less-world. It would have interviews like any other magazine, but with real role models. People who have an inspiring life, not just an inspiring wardrobe. It would cover actualities in an approachable manner. I had this idea for a section that would offer insight on the history behind the lastest headlines. It would be written like a story, rather than an encyclopedia entry. It would be illustrated by an artist of James-Jean-esque coolness. Hey, it could actually be a comic! Just imagine how much more parts of myself I could have developed during my teens if I would have read something like that every month? As opposed to, well, Ellegirl?

Of course, I've never finished any story I've begun to write, Ive never shot any fashion editorial, Ive never started some really cool free-spirited magazine and I've certainly never tried to bother anyone like James Jean with my far-out fantasies.

Simply because I do not feel justified. Sometimes I do. But eventually I don't. I have creative inclinations, but I always find a way to reason myself out of them. That's my problem. It probably isn't a shame for mankind, but it certainly is a shame for myself. After all, all I'm left with is a restless mind. I'm always conjuring up ideas, but never actually acting out on any of them. In fact, I'd say I'm going through much of my life being a lazy bastard.

Now, is that something to aspire to?
I think not.

Therefore, I've decided to start being a productive person. I'm going to be fearless of making mistakes and embrace my most random urges. The urge to start a blog, for example. And while I'm at it, I'm going to put whatever I feel like on here, just because I feel like it. And through all this I'm going to treat blogging like it's the most justified thing I could possibly do in my life right now. Not because it necessarily is, but because selfdoubt is the foe of all creation. Just ask my man Goethe:

"Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans. The moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favour all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way. Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it. Begin it now."

So, there you have it.
I'm beginning it now.