calling all Editors-in-Chief
There was a slight resemblance to a wedding at the end of the soap season. All protagonists together. Even those who never meet in daily life, assembled in one room. The annual Editor-in-Chief dinner where the Grande Dames (and occasional Monsieur) from Vogue to Libelle and everything in between (Harper’s Bazaar, Cosmopolitan, More than Classic, Marie Claire) get together.
Whoosh gone
We joke about what would happen if the soap-marriage comparison permeates, and a fire envelops us. Or bullets rain down on us or whatever. The creative elite would be whoosh gone in one foul swoop.
Top temptation
Soon we’re back to toasting with cocktails in hand. Hedonia, you know the drill. Last night, thanks to the Phillips invitation, we suffered some serious temptation together. Hairdryers that adapt to the dryness of your hair (when almost dry, the temperature goes down to protect your hair), IPL devices for your private bathroom. Or bedroom, also allowed. Hair removal by light treatment. No more stubble. And of course, the VisaPure is a godsend. Your skin simply can not get any cleaner, seriously.
Size zero fries
I am totally head-over-hills in love with the new Philips fryer, an air fryer. According to the consumers council, it makes a noise. Who cares. I mean you end up with the tastiest fries ever without any fat. I ordered one immediately. Size zero fries, who doesn’t want that.
Stealing from your neighbour
Then off to the dining room in the gorgeous Gemeentelandshuis in Amsterdam. You, know the petite country manor that the Amsterdam Ring seems to be draped around. And there we raised a glass. And poked a fork. I managed to avoid licking my plate clean, but I couldn’t help secretly pricking something off my neighbour’s plate. Someone I know well luckily, so decorum preserved.
Until next year
We raised our glasses once again and toasted to a happy and healthy summer, and then went our separate ways. Go forth and make beautiful things. Next year we shall meet again.
Foto’s: Barbara Kieboom
