Summer in the City: Part 2: Concrete Beach

Let me begin by explaining this horrible two week delay, I am very sorry, but at first I considered this post inapplicable to the current Amsterdam since it started raining heavily a day after the heat. The following weekend I had health issues which got in the way.

So, with the weather having corrected itself once again and all, I will continue my tale of the Summer in Amsterdam.

Having agreed to go to the mysterious Roest, with my first day on a bicycle in the urban jungle, I had no idea of how far the place would be or what would await me there. When someone says “the beach” I assume the sea, so I was little surprised about it being only 20 minutes away by bike. We started cycling through the town across the Amstel. I was behind everyone, feeling quite jumpy at the sight of cars, but fortunately the traffic is gracious on weekends (and practically non-existent on Sundays). We travelled down the route of Tram 10, eventually passing the huge Windmill and the brewery next to it.

Speaking of which, the Brewery there is an absolute treat. I highly recommend it for any beer connoisseur, for prices and selection.

We turned left from the windmill and straight down the long picturesque road, until everybody started turning left again into an enormous, deserted parking lot, behind which you can see and old, rusted, loading dock. In the dusty heat, rust and cawing of a murder of crows I started to wonder on what exactly I was being dragged into.

We reached a crowded bicycle parking area where we all chained our bikes into pairs (safer that way!) and walked straight to the rusted loading dock. I noticed metal clumps on stands and tastelessly welded, illegible sign above a graffiti-masked shack, and two laid back surfer dudes chilling outside, smoking. As it turns out “Roest” literally means “Rust” in Dutch.

It was a Hipster Urban Beach Bar. I saw a girl walk by with a dance hoop, and later found out the place hosts music festivals and artisan events and sales. The old warehouse is also utilised. Together the bar is used as an exhibition space, theatre and a concert hall?! I'm 300% sure it hosts the occasional rave parties to top this off. We walked into the shack to get drinks. The establishment had wide collection of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages and a menu of mouth-watering lunch offers. On the other side of the shack was an exit to a man-made beach on the dock.

Young, beautiful people were strewn all over the white sand in their swimwear. There were also some children there. We rolled out our towels on the sand and started chatting.

The place isn't too noisy, making it a perfect conversation environment. Further from where we were seated there are hammocks and sunbeds available. Next to them you can find a tarzan swing into the water, there are also less active access points to the water, but the hysterical laughter and splashes seem like a better idea. There are also shower facilities and what I like to call “foot-desandifying places” at hand. I sat watching all these beautiful Dutch creatures in their natural habitat, thinking “My GOD, these people are gorgeous”!

All that being said, the place is clean and comfortable during the day.

If you are like me and don't enjoy urban swimming environments as much as their wilder counterparts, you can still find yourself wanting to join the splashy fun. If you are not convinced, you can still enjoy an ice cold beer in the super laid-back environment on those surprisingly hot days. Since it's pretty damn close to the city centre, it doesn't need feverish planning in order to commute there. I will definitely take all my international guests there to unwind after a series of museum visits.

Their website has an abundance of photos and news of events, so check it out.

 

And no, I don't get paid to promote anything, otherwise I'd post more often... HAH.

Summer in the City: Part 1: Cycling in Amsterdam

Finally! The summer returned to this rainy city, and it returned with a vengeance.
Yesterday morning I woke up in pool of sweat as the sun was precisely aiming to bounce off my windowsill and roast me at 6 in the morning. A nice change to last week, when everybody agreed that Holland migrated to hang out in the Southern hemisphere this year.

The Bicycle Adventure

In the kitchen, my housemate suddenly asked if I wanted to go to Vondelpark with her to laze in the sun with some friends. Vondelpark is an enormous park in the middle of Amsterdam where you can find most of the city on the rare warm weather days, on the rest of the days you will find runners and cyclists. It is definitely a place to visit in Amsterdam, it has a few cafes, bars and even a theatre within it, and is very popular for barbecues and group meetup events. I quickly agreed and then she asked if I'd like to use her second bike to get there.
Here's the deal, since a car accident at the end of last summer, I had already decided that traffic and I will just have to live separate lives. I have been walking and using trains/trams all year. There are plenty of bike/scooter bike/motorbike and bike/car accidents here, one very brutal one occurred outside our office last month, where a colleague had to drag a cyclist from under an unsuspecting truck. The details of that event freaked the remaining sanity out of me for a while. However, all of Amsterdam is still cycling.
Since we arrived, the said housemate learned how to ride a bike and without any hesitation joined the majority of the city's residents in pedalling to work, while I have been cycling since I was a 4 years old and felt like a darn coward. So I agreed. She told me it was a bike her sister was using when she visited, and since we are about the same height it should be perfect for me, but alas, same hight does not mean same leg length, her sister has model proportions.
Outside, the sun beat mercilessly, and we had donned our bikinis and summer dresses for the road. It took me 5 very graceless minutes to unlock two chains and get the bicycle out of the designated parking rack where some bikes stand for years, forgotten or damaged and abandoned, but catching on your brake cables every way they can.
It was after I accidentally flashed my bright blue bikini crotch while getting onto the obscenely tall bike, did a kind, Dutch gentleman point out that although the bike is a "men's" bike (straight, sporty frame as opposed to the "women's" curved frame bike) and slightly too big for me, but he can lower the seat further (news to me and my housemate who believed that the seat was at its complete lowest). He also pointed out the chain was loose and the brakes were too tight, so he quickly fixed it up, while I went back upstairs to put some shorts on to save my remaining dignity.
The reason the bike was in such terrible condition is because most bikes in Amsterdam are stolen and resold numerous times, so by the time my housemate's sister came to buy it for 20 euros it probably had a long list of abusive owners, including a few drug addicts (another reason why they are sold for 10 to 20 euros).
After the neighbour lowered the seat I was amazed by what a huge difference a couple of millimetres did for me! I could actually cycle now! With my housemate ahead of me, a hundred metres from our starting point, a taxi almost hit me (cyclists and taxis natural enemies in the city), but all was well, we peddled away. I stuck to the right side of the cycling path to let the small scooters and faster cyclists past. It was important to stay aware of them and the wandering tourists who do not differentiate cycling paths to pedestrian paths, which is why having a bell is vital. Cycling lanes also have designated traffic lights at crossings with very short time lapses. When turning at these crosses it is vital to cross tram tracks diagonally, as they are perfectly sized for getting your wheel stuck and possibly bending it (not even mentioning the danger of trams).
We successfully got to Vondelpark, where the cyclist traffic is much higher on a Saturday than it is on the streets, once again, the bell comes useful in the dreamy, serene environment where visitors get distracted by art installation and the birds of Amsterdam.
We locked our bikes on a single lock and sprawled out at the side of a pond to relax and enjoy the weather. After an hour of sunbathing, the girls suggested we go to the Roest. I had no clue what that was but agreed because I was excited to test my new found urban cycling ability.

Amsterdam Shabamsterdam. The Move.

As I mentioned previously, I have moved my butt to Holland/The Netherlands/Kingdom of Pancakes.

This move happened as suddenly and as thoughtlessly as all my previous relocations. Got an opportunity and grabbed it. I followed my disbelieving routine and until I saw the Bombardier Q400, that was to fly me to Schipol Airport, with its adorable propellers, I doubt that any of that information sunk in.
For the first two nights I stayed in the historical centre of Amsterdam, overlooking a canal. The weather was warm (it's actually psychotic) and the people were friendly. I find it important to state because, aside from the fact that the vast majority of Dutch residents of Amsterdam speak (perfect) English, there can be a cultural barrier. People come back with very mixed views from Amsterdam, claiming that people are either rude or the perfectly friendly hosts. It's sort of both. I find that when it comes to customer services, don't expect much ass-kissery as a foreigner. Amsterdam is a city with the highest nationality count residing here, and tourists are mainly here for the weed and the Red Light district. So the Amsterdam-Dutch are generally not bothered to deal with you and your demands as a customer with a forced smile and politeness. That being said, the other side of this coin is it is usually very easy to start talking to people and be upfront. I genuinely hate complaining or asking blunt questions in restaurants or shops because I like being polite and have a thing about fearing to hurt someone's feelings. Here there is no problem because folks are completely grounded and there is an air of realism to them. This is obviously nothing more than a personal observation.
Anyway.
The centre was a great place to stay at for the first few days. As usual, I had no problem transitioning to the new location. This is mainly because of the boats outside my window. I love anything and everything to do with boats and still write dreamy poetry when passing various canals on my way to work. Every single day. The following week I had moved (or rather, "have been relocated") into an area known as the Pijp (full of restaurants and small shops, across the street from the biggest market in the city). The scary part was moving in with the other female interns, then diving head first into a workload I only thought existed in movie montages, in films like The Devil Wears Prada. After I'd finish working on whatever jobs were assigned to me during the day, I'd stay late working on my degree project. I would come home from the office so late that my lovely housemates had a theory that I was actually out having affairs with older men.
No, I don't understand it either.
It was stressful and coming home to such elaborate gossip was just alienating. Fortunately, I ended up building a stronger bond with my work team and finished my degree far better than I had expected myself to! I believe that the geometrical facades of the buildings, the abundance of trees and the cinematic composition of the city and its people kept me far too inspired to give up on anything, even when they days were ridiculously taxing. Aside from bachelors and romantically adventurous couples, Amsterdam is the perfect city for European workaholics!

Until quite recently, I hadn't been able to walk about and get lost in the city, but I started jogging again and had guests over, and as we all know, guests and jogging are the best way to force yourself to explore the city you live in... Or at least come face to face with how little you know about the city you live in...


Stay tuned.

Did I mention Amsterdam?

Yeah, I moved again.

Fashion Internship

I am a third year student studying Illustration and Animation at Coventry University. During my final year I have applied and been accepted for a 6 month internship at Calvin Klein Accessories in Amsterdam. I have now been here for three months whilst simultaneously working on and successfully completing my degree. "I work well under pressure" is a common line used in personal statements, without really believing it I found out how to make the “pressure” work for you:

1. Doing things that might not make sense at the time.
A few months ago I left my tutor's office in tears of self-pity. I was completely convinced I was going to fail the year because I didn't know what to do with my skills, and freelancing straight after university seemed like the right road to a hungry death.

A large portion of the students around me had such clear vision of what they wanted and how they would go about getting it. I was stuck in the kind of rut the other portion of students get stuck in; tunnel vision of the final year being a final verdict to your career and future.
Around the same time a friend of mine started bombarding me with ideas of a fashion design internship. I am a complete nerd,  and as far removed from fashion as possible, however, out of sheer frustration with my situation I applied, not really believing my overly friendly email and an online portfolio would get a response.

2. What you lack in skill can be made up for in enthusiasm.
It did. A few days later I was having a Skype interview with a Creative Director of Calvin Klein Accessories. It wasn't until I heard the Skype ringtone that the excitement kicked in. So I answered and spoke to hear with the kind of enthusiasm that a potential employer wants to see. She'd seen my work and believed I had an interesting and applicable variety of skills, but was not entirely convinced it would be useful for fashion, so she had HR take my case to see what to do with me.
The next morning I received a test project brief asking to design two handbags and make technical illustrations for them.

3. Ask everyone help you. Some people might actually do it!

That week I barely slept because I was so unbelievably excited. I ate, drank and breathed fashion research and sketches. Although at first I was shy of asking for help, I confided in a few lectures in particular and was astonished at the support and information they ended up providing me! They helped me stay grounded and provided materials and insights that would have been difficult to find on the internet. I've met and had become closer and more knowledgeable about the people around me and the departments I didn't even know existed in the university! It was a thrill. I finally submitted the Calvin Klein assigned project on the night of the deadline, although I believed it was already too late.

4. Don't be a drama queen.

It's just wasted emotional effort. Trust me.
It was a nerve-wrecking week of waiting (it seemed like a month, honestly). I went back to my routine of self-pity and assuming the worst, because nobody was responding, which must have meant that I didn't get my internship. And here was my dramatic end (yeah, never mind the whole degree that I still had to work on!).

One fine morning, the longest week later, as I was preparing breakfast, I received a phone call asking if I was available for 6 months starting April 1^st. Two weeks after that, I had moved Amsterdam and started working.

5. Get down and dirty.

I am currently assisting the Men's Accessories Designer. Only a few days into my internship we were working late at the office preparing a concept presentation to send off to New York, this was when the reality of the workload I had got myself into really hit home. People are people and depending on their work environment, they might need to work more than expected. If you want to get the most out of your work environment, you have to integrate by working as hard as the hardest worker in the room. Not only do you get the most out of your time, but you get the priceless respect from your colleagues. After all, I'm a new person in the team, and at first it was a little bit like Mean Girls (sitting all alone, eating the saddest sandwich, looking miserable.), that has changed drastically since the realisation that I would not leave anyone in need of help if I could provide it, whether it's last minute product photograph retouches, or compiling 26 page PDF presentations, or even popping down to the supermarket to get chocolates for everyone. Chocolates and Adobe Illustrator skills get you far!

6. Personal work becomes fun!?

Everyone I asked knew what I meant when I started saying that going home, sitting down in front of the computer and keeping on working on your university projects, becomes phenomenally enjoyable relaxation time. In my case, I was illustrating my own little graphic novel. After the increase in speed of work at the office, my university project sped up. My biggest concern had solved itself. On top of that, I was so inspired by my move to Amsterdam, I did an unplanned triptych of travel posters. The graphic novel and the posters are going to be a part of New Designers 2014 exhibition in London, along with the top students of my year, of whom I never dreamed of being listed with.

However, this would not have been possible without friends and lecturers helping organise these things on location. My boyfriend and a few students kept me updated on how the plans for the degree show were developing and all the things I needed to provide to them for its preparation.

The biggest challenge was being self-organised in the little time I had as I continuously switched between fashion-product design work and university projects that were driven by fantasy and personal narrative.

7. It's okay to dare a little more...

When I first heard  that an internal demonstration video was to be made, I kinda got excited and exaggerated my existing knowledge about video production. I didn't lie! I just made my experience seem more profound than it was. I have never had such an up close opportunity to get involved in video production before, so it seemed like a great chance to get myself participating in the project. I ended up doing the storyboard for the first half of the video along with the actual brief for the video team and photographers, and it was greatly appreciated! So much so, that everyone demanded my presence on all of the days filming the bags took place. Now this video has become a much bigger project for me, and definitely a great thing to put on my CV!

Now, I don't know how this internship will play out for me in the end, but I know that it has helped me finish university and break out of the rut I was in.

It made me a lot stronger and capable in my fields of expertise, provided me with an amazing opportunity to live in a new country and meet quite a few like-minded people! Another vital part of this experience is that an intern has the luxury of having the opportunity to participate in an active work environment while still having the freedom to choose whether that specific route is definitely the one you want to continue following. For me, this has meant a safe way to practice my existing skills, ground my work and experience an industry without being fully committed.

 

Genuine Human Reactions.

I frequently find myself thinking about how I behave in public. I like to ponder over my reactions and why is it so damn difficult for me to not make faces and laugh at my own horrible puns.

Sometimes I find myself trying to fit into this grown-up world and attempt contact with human females like myself. I butt into a typical female conversation and then stand there. Smiling. Wondering whether I can make an input. After a while of standing and grinning awkwardly, agreeing and nodding I retreat back to my all-male company and wonder WHY.

Why?

Because, I always wanted to get in touch with that girlie girl that once lived in my head but eventually migrated to my kidneys or something, and I went on building tree houses, reading goosebumps and getting into fights with bullies, then fishing, video games and target practice took over the schedule and I haven't spoken to her since. I'm sure she used to wonder how I'm doing, but it's been so long... It would be silent and awkward.
So, on a rare and exotic occasion I find myself exclusively in a group of girls and they start trying to include me into their conversation.
Next thing I know the alpha female of this pack is talking to me and then she starts sharing her ideas of a dress. Grandma can buy a dress for Christmas. A knitted dress, but like, with a zip on the back? And pockets? Yeah. Tight, knitted dress with pockets.
At which point my mind caves in and I just nod away.
Weeks later, I can sit reading historical war fiction, and sometimes I ponder over what the hell are these female interactions really about... Surely not dresses? It's got to be code.

Back to University.

Being back in Coventry after Italy is strange. It's hard to believe this is the same planet and the same species of human that roam around here.

Look, well-dressed Italians out and about! (image from article on Bologna flea markets https://decoratorsnotebook.wordpress.com/tag/flea-market-bologna/)

And then we have... these.

Yeeaaaah, girl!

Wonder where my inspiration is gone?