Curious about what really goes on in a fashion editorial office? May-Britt takes you into her life as an editor-in-chief, where indeed there is rarely a dull moment.
Ice floes jumping, that's what my sweetheart calls it. If I were to think about everything on my agenda this week, I would immediately want to jump off a roof. Or book a one-way ticket to Ibiza or crawl under Egyptian linen. Something like that. But I plow through and hey, it's busy but it's not like I'm in a mine working. Everything is fun.
It started with celebrating the fortieth birthday of Anouk Smulders. Think hippie party, tipi tents, sushi girls (divinely delicious and fresher than fresh) and an old, orange van where Anouk and I crashed with a, excuse me, slightly red nose from a bit too much Hugo (the new drink).
On Sunday I was puffing because I finally had my team for The Shoot complete. We are photographing the four finalists of Holland’s Next Topmodel, of which the winner will appear on the winter issue of Amayzine.com. Dirk Kikstra is photographing, Fred is coaching, and we have found the very best hair and make-up artist. Only one stylist is a Problem. It’s fashion week as you know, so everyone is in London, Milan or Paris or is on their way there. Eventually, I find a new talent, Marloes de Jong. Marloes happy, Endemol happy, Dirk happy, I am over the moon.
On Monday, Mart Visser comes in cheerfully. Literally, right. The door is always open and well, there is enough space so why not. Mart has a studio around the corner in the Schinkelbuurt. We call our little business neighborhood the new Redhook Brooklyn (the trendy, underground area of New York). From the outside, not necessarily particularly picturesque but it rocks and it buzzes and it growls. In our street, for example, lives Armin van Buuren. I saw him this week driving down the street in a Porsche with the roof down, which makes our office even cooler than it already is.
’In the evening, I dine with Marion Pauw at Taiko, the restaurant of the Conservatorium Hotel, one of my favorite spots in the city. I almost lunch there weekly but for some ridiculous reason, I had never visited the restaurant. There is a new concept and a new menu for which they invited habitués and other friends of the hotel to come and taste. Marion had her suitcase stolen that morning with all her favorite clothes in it, so she could use a pick-me-up. After seventeen divine courses and eight delightful glasses of wine, we leave the place happy. And we promise to come back soon, very soon.
Wednesday evening is dedicated to Eye Wish Opticians. They are organizing a glasses fashion show and asked me to present it. Extremely flattering for me because I had glasses by the age of four and had the talent to choose the ugliest glasses available every time. Back then, I really needed an Eye Wish Optician who would assist me with personal attention and advice. They chose the Rijksmuseum as the location, and it was quite special to walk around there after hours. Because no hair dryers, straighteners, and other corded items are allowed in the Rijksmuseum , I seek support and nice hair in advance from my hair heroine Rachel Geerman from The Building.
Thursday starts my day in the Akasha spa of the Conservatorium Hotel (I did say it was my favorite hangout). I get a tour. Right now, I’m still walking on heels on the treadmill, but next week I’ll start. Something about a healthy mind and a healthy body..
Friday was The Shoot. And I will tell you all about it next week.
