Best of 2017

Just about that clip from Famke Louise

Just about that clip from Famke Louise

Exactly a week ago, the song ‘Op Me Monnie’ by vlogger/model Famke Louise exploded on the web. She went viral and is still number 1 on the YouTube trending list. More than three million people have seen the video. Me too, with my mouth open, yes. And I have something to say about that music video.

Seen it? Nice. Maybe I'm too old for this and that's where it goes wrong, but first of all: I don't get this. That title for example. ‘Op Me Monnie’, what does that mean? Being on your money? Money-hungry? Having a good time? Like a Scrooge McDuck hen brooding on your pile of money? ‘Hey, are you going out tonight?’ ‘No, can't man, I'm on my money.’ Confusion all around. I wonder if Famke's Dutch teacher has seen the song. How proud he or she must have been. Especially of the ‘me’ part of that money.

Okay, are you ready? The clip starts with a pair of nice Jordans. So far, so good. Then it goes fast. A My Little Pony flies through the frame in a split second, a half-naked butt, and someone is licking a lollipop. At this point, I'm confused. I think Famke is too, because she mentions her name again just in case you forgot who you were watching. And why are we actually in the supermarket? It looks like one of those Surinamese night shops with fried bananas and bottles of Fernandes. I freeze the frame at 0:10 seconds. I see again a fantasy pony, but this time the beast seems aggressive. Is she now purring with a knife in her ass? Famke, you MUST learn to control those ponies because before you know it, they will take over your entire clip.

Oh look, then the singing actually begins. Or what's left of it at least. A few animated wolves fly across the screen and Famke pulls on her thug life braids as if she is milking a cow. Good move though. I'm going to remember that. Then about the body language, Fam, an average sign language interpreter would hyperventilate from all those middle fingers in the air.

Here it comes, all together on the beat of the Kabouter Plop dance:

“Pull on your braid again,
make a money gesture, look bad.
Wave with fuck you's in the air,
spill Fernandes quickly and fast.
Walk outside like a trans,
yes, that's how the Famke dance goes.”

Sounds pretty fun to me.

Okay. We're going to go through this a bit faster because I'm only at 0:23 seconds. Another thing: suddenly we're in the kitchen cutting cucumbers. It feels like I've landed in a bad trip. Who are those ‘cool’ boys? Why are reptiles constantly flying through the frame? What are we going to cook? For a change, those middle fingers again. Those Gucci sneakers are pretty cool by the way. Oh god, onto my worst nightmare: hoods that can be zipped all the way up. Spontaneous panic attack. Suddenly we're outside. Huh, what? Weren't we going to eat? What happened to those cucumbers? Where did that pink champagne bottle and that sad pitbull with cropped ears suddenly come from? Where is my food? By the way, I had - not to be a party pooper but if we're going to switch to another scene anyway - chosen a different hairstyle at this point, Fam. Drinking ghetto-style in your fur coat looks a bit more credible with those hard curls, I think. Just a tip.

Ha, there's the reference to Models in Paris. Something recognizable that I understand. “In Paris I'm on that model. On that modeling money. RTL 5 I'm on that model, on that modeling money.” My writer's heart starts to bleed. It gets worse. “Nothing is impossible. I'm on things, unbelievable.” Who understands what is being said here? What are you on? On what things? What is unbelievable? Short circuit. In. Brain. WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE ALL OF A SUDDEN?!

Let's continue. We just sprayed champagne on the street (where did that dog come from all of a sudden?) and immediately move on to the special effect with the colored clouds. Ignore. The. Bad. Trip. Look. Ignore. Holy fuck, does she now have two fake guns in her hand? The stylist has also decided that at this point it would be a good idea to put Famke in a guerrilla-like Mexican drug war mask.

No time to get distracted, we move on to the arcade. There's -ahem- subtly a Gucci-tas through the screen and after hearing “my Sannie is treacherous” for the umpteenth time, I really get curious. Who is Sannie? Why is that chick betraying? Does Sannie perhaps know what happened to the cucumber?

After some serious field research (okay, Lilian texted her brother) we find out that Sannie is drugs. Probably coke. You get it: I suddenly feel sixty.

2 minutes 18 and the screen goes black. Huh, is it already over? Come on. A bit of a dying candle, this. I was just getting into it, makers. Hmmm, I have no idea who that producer is by the way, but I have a feeling you don't want to meet $HOOT2KILL in a dark alley at night.

Dear Famke. You're young, have a fresh beautiful face, a sense of humor, and an entourage that an average teenager would kill for. I would enjoy that if I were you. Making this music video? Mwah, I don't know. From now on, just leave that Sannie alone, it's better for everyone.

P.S.: On my Insta Stories @kikiduren we can still enjoy it a bit.