Everything you want to know about the Magnum party…

Let's be honest, I actually wanted to write this yesterday, but I was unable to. Literally unable. I had a visit from the man with the hammer. He brought along Mrs. Death Bird in the Mouth and Mr. Spaghetti-legs. Moses crumbles, what guests. They came in early in the morning and stayed late. I tried to bonjour them out the door, but those fuckers had me completely in their power. They stayed. The whole day. So hence this little delay. But I'm back, hooray, and I'm still alive and that's almost impressive. Good. If you've seen all those ’20s party photos popping up over the past few days and thought: what was that for a vibe? A little impression.

Wednesday evening. 20:32 hours. Magnum is hosting for the second time something that is referred to in the corridors as ‘the party of the year’ and hell to the yes we are there. Theme? A night at the Magnum Mansion. Roaring 20’s style. In a Great Gatsby way, so to speak. Believe me: these are the evenings when you suddenly realize that your life is sometimes just like Gossip Girl. Remember the ‘Kiss on the lips party’ from season 1? A kind of fantastic scene like that. Everyone completely in theme. You walk in and think you've really landed in another time. The static Amstel completely transformed, old cars at the door, men with walking sticks, ladies with feathers in their hair… Man man. The cocktails and feathers are flying around. How wonderful is it to just let go in the middle of the week and surrender to some childish pleasure? A luxury dress-up party for adults; we actually do this way too little.

23:37 hours. I can hardly explain to you what all happened. Still, an attempt. There was a roulette room (a game I turn out to be intensely bad at, by the way), there were ‘pleasure rooms’ where you could sniff ‘lines’ of cocoa. Intensely a lot of chocolate and Magnum ice cream and the pool was transformed with synchronized dancers. From Lil’ Kleine to Victoria Koblenko, from Maan to Kaj Gorgels. Light, camera action, all vlogging and blogging Netherlands. We were there. The Flexican and Valentijn were spinning the records, Dio and Geza Weisz rocked the afterparty. The pain in the feet from the high heels was drowned with another glass of bubbles and then a chocolate shot. Everything was possible and everything was allowed.

The hotel and the night were ours, we rocked the dance floor like a bunch of hypnotized hyenas. From the party to the afterparty and from the afterparty to the after-afterparty in the hotel rooms. And yes, maybe there was a lift incident around 5:00 AM (no real party without drama) that I unfortunately can't tell you more about, otherwise I have to take you out. Magnum, as I said on my Instagram yesterday: aside from the fact that our hotel room looked like three peacocks had been raped in the morning, it must be said: this party was epic. It's just as well that we do this once a year, because goddamn, I fear I wouldn't survive more often.

P.S.: If anyone still has some shame for a friends' price, I would love to come pick it up if that's possible. I lost mine on Wednesday in Amsterdam. Somewhere around 3:17 AM, I suspect.