Monday, November 5, 2012

Diana Vreeland vs. Anna Wintour

Today I cycled through the city center of Amsterdam, and–after having a wonderful weekend in and out of the city–I loved every minute of it. The air is changing along with the seasons, and a crispness punctuates my every step; adds an extra kick of power to each pedal, should I find myself on my bike. Today I also became a bit more Western European, adopting a very smart Senz umbrella that will never blow away in the wind, and it will also never turn inside-out, because of that wind; it's just durable. One step closer to loving dark winters, shy and slightly socially backward people, and long dinners over copious wine. Yes–one step closer to unavailing, and merging with, my inner European; he's in there, he's beginning to speak Dutch naturally and effortlessly, and I can feel him surfacing and finding his feet. This weekend I also went to see Margaret Cho with my great friend Amanda (hey Amanda!), slipped cocktails at the super-low-key and equally as swank-and-chic Door 74, before rounding off the weekend to two tiny but lovely castles situated in the east of the Netherlands. One was a very stunning composite of manicured gardens and Alice in Wonderland topiaries, while the other was the home of William II, the last Emperor of the German Empire. What the latter lacked in baroque landscaping, it made up for in its abundance of late nineteenth and early twentieth century collections of paintings, porcelain, and fine wares. Closing off the weekend I saw the Diana Vreeland documentary currently spinning in theaters in this city, again; inspiring to the max, I must admit I found it better the first time around. Perhaps, then, Anna Wintour really is my hero.