Those who think that an editor-in-chief goes from lunch to master hairstylist, from trip to celeb-dinner and then on to a TV-show…are correct.

This last week was so incredibly full that I’d need my entire iPhoto library to reproduce it. On Monday I had lunch with my girlfriends Melanie and Linda from Maison PR. A crackling fireplace greeted us in restaurant 5&33 (on Amsterdam central station’s doorstep so easy to visit if you don’t live in the capital) and we were served the most delicious, creamy truffle pasta ever. I’ll be back for the burrata another time.

My outer brunette has been doing her very best to beat my inner blonde up. In other words, I had a regrowth of six centimetres and my hair was crying out for Leco van Zadelhoff. On Tuesday morning he welcomed me into his inner sanctum on the Van Bree street. What no-one knows is that besides being a master hair stylist, Leco is also a rather good psychologist. So while creating a killer-hair style, he lent a listening ear and sent me off with some wise words.

I woke up every hour during the night. Why? Because I didn’t want to oversleep. I was expected at Schiphol airport at 04:00 (not to be confused with 16:00, no I’m talking 4am). Destination 24 hours Ibiza. Half of the Transavia flight was filled with fashion journalists going to see ByDanie’s new spring/summer collection 2015.  I curled up next to ex-colleagues Jonna (editor Marie Claire), Mies (editor-in-chief Grazia) and Ellen (editor-in-chief Beau Monde) and would have paid double for this trip, it was so wonderful.

You’re supposed to have short nights on Ibiza. I got in at 01:00 and then was back in a taxi headed to the airport at 06:30. As we drove past Pacha, I saw girls teetering around on their heels and felt relieved that I was heading back to the office. Even if for only a few hours, because at the end of the day I’d be hoisting myself into my white Gucci-dress. For a launch of Estee Lauder’s new wonder product. Only the best of the best for Estee so we ended up having dinner in a private residence on the Vondel street in Amsterdam. Imagine an entrance hall big enough to dance in, a garden to get lost in, an inside swimming pool (can’t get sexier than that) and a living room with a wing. So when Angelique Smeenk the head chef prepared a truffle dinner for us, and encouraged us to mix it with a swig of champagne after every bite, I was bordering on ecstatic. Then when I toddled off to my car in heels, with a goody bag of magical Estee Lauder Re-Nutriv elixir in my hand and finally got to creep into bed next to my love and daughter, I was totally there.

The alarm clock again. Six o clock this time. I thought for a moment that it was weekend until I realised that I needed to leave for Hilversum. To Pernille and Quinty in the TV program Koffietijd, where Fred van Leer and I were going to tell all about Holland’s Next Top Model that will be airing from Monday (21:30 RTL5). Even though it was early and even though the night had been short, it was laughing, shrieking and roaring all the way.

To round the week off, I drove to The Conservatorium Hotel, also known as the living room of Amsterdam South. I sat down in their lovely lounge area, opened my laptop and quickly wrote a post. As I wrote the last sentence, I saw my lunch date Marion Pauw walking towards me. We’d been trying to see each other for almost a year and had finally succeeded. We ordered a drink and chatted about all sort of things that I cannot share on a public website.

Someone once told me that my life was only made up of drinking wine with Dutch celebrities. I can tell you now, they were wrong. I drink mostly champagne with them.

This weekend was spent running on the beach and stamping in the mud with the kiddies. And getting some sleep, because a week of glamour like that uses a whole of energy.