Just a little more about the Magnum party...

‘Hey Kiek, I don't know, but do you actually still do normal things during the week?’, said my best friend on the phone yesterday. ‘Skydiving on Monday, lying in bed with a boa constrictor around your neck on Wednesday, and walking alpacas on the alpaca farm on Thursday?’ Well, honestly: this was quite the week.

Now I mainly want to talk to you about Wednesday. Magnum – the ice cream people – organized their Magnum Playground for the third and final time, a party that started three years ago with a pajama party at the Conservatorium Hotel, then rolled into a roaring 20’s party at the Amstel Hotel, and this year it was the turn of the Waldorf Astoria. A hotel where I could spontaneously live, by the way.

Dress code? White & Playful, with extra bonus points for those who are ’true’ to their own ‘pleasure’. Whether you dress up as a superhero, a Victoria’s Secret Angel, or the opposite sex, as long as you’ll #NeverStopPlaying and can completely let go of the fear of being judged. This has manifested over the years in campaigns about gay weddings, transgender issues, and today in the spotlight: the 97-year-old Iris Apfel. ‘If you're not risking, you’re not living. As long as you are true to yourself.’

And honestly, that's just how it is.

You understand: with such underlying thoughts, I'm not talking about a random party on Wednesday night. No, it’s going to be big. Believe me: these are the nights when you suddenly realize that your life is sometimes just like Gossip Girl. Check-in starts at 8:00 PM and at 9:00 PM sharp the doors close. What happens at the party, stays at the party. It’s literally a playground for adults. I see a unicorn flying by during the opening party, men with gigantic fake eyelashes on towering heels, wedding dresses, glitter suits, a guest in an Arabic djellaba, a girl dressed as the Statue of Liberty; I see it all.

There are different playrooms (a ball pit room, a truth and dare room (with a boa constrictor in bed, holy lord), a chocolate room where you can jump into piles of cushions like a little kid (very liberating by the way), and everywhere, everywhere, everywhere there is champagne and Magnum ice cream in abundance. The heels come off, the hotel slippers go on, and we dance deep into the night to the beats of Dio and Géza. Before going to sleep, we order from room service another, yes, you guessed it: serving of ice cream. The new white chocolate with cookie crumble, to be precise.

The next morning, all the wallflowers, spaghetti legs, and dead birds gather in the breakfast room where there is still an epic breakfast on the menu, and then it’s already time to check out. Dear people from Magnum, it must be said: once again, hats off to the organization and thank you for allowing us to witness one of the most fun and weirdest parties of the year. Not only the party itself, but also the thought behind it is one that we will not forget anytime soon.

Stop playing? Ha. Never. Not.