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Paint it black

Spring is finally here, and my own personal travel “season” is about to start. Since I’m going to be away often over the next two months, I didn’t want to start a new watercolor project (which normally takes a few weeks). So the objective of my last class was to finish something fast. 
My subject of choice: a certain black cat named Rogue. 

Her proportions are a bit wonky, but you’ll have to forgive me as I didn’t even do a sketch for this one. I pretty much started splashing around with a big brush, as my teacher wishes I would do more often. But I think this captures her cranky/evil look pretty well; it’s the one she pulls when she’s sleepy and I’m trying to play with her.

It’s an interesting exercise to paint black without actually having black in my palette: I used indigo, brown, and a touch of red. I plan to use it as a study for a bigger, more carefully considered portrait of my pet (cat-rait? Pet-rait?). But in the meantime, I have some traveling to do! #excited

4 Comments
Posted on March 21, 2012
Category: Creative Projects · Labels: , ,

My mother’s daughter

My mom turned 63 years young yesterday! Happy birthday, Mom.
This is my mom in her forties, when I was in grade school. In the photo, she is the only woman in a mining expedition in Mindanao, wearing a necklace and (what I suspect to be) South Sea pearl earrings while traipsing around the mountains of Agusan del Norte.

This is not the kind of thing that a lot of moms do, so this picture I feel perfectly captures the kind of woman that she is. She made a lot of bold decisions and tough choices, and while I’m not quite as brave (and circumstances have not tested me as severely as they did her), I still try to push myself now and then. I thought it was my thirst for adventure, but it may just be that I am my mother’s daughter.

Then there’s me. Sometimes—not often, but it happens—I still feel like the little girl trying to wear her mother’s clothes (I’m wearing her scarf in this photo, by the way) and follow in her footsteps. While we are vastly different—because she has let me be—the older I get, the more similarities I notice between us, just like in these two pictures.

More importantly, the older I get, the more I understand her. (Although she still drives me crazy sometimes.) My mom was widowed early, less than 10 years after she married my dad; after being married for just four years, I have only begun to understand just what she lost and what a herculean accomplishment it was to have rebuilt her life after that, with her family on her shoulders no less.

Not only did she rebuild her life, but she made a good life for us too. And because she did, I am able to, among many other things, indulge my wanderlust, pursue new and different things, stand tall and smile brightly—just as I am in this picture.

So, it’s her birthday, but she is the gift. Again—happy birthday, Mom and I love you!

5 Comments
Posted on March 17, 2012
Category: Uncategorized · Labels:

Lady in red

Based on a vintage-inspired editorial from an old issue of Preview, this lady in red has been my watercolor project for the whole month of February. I had been feeling uninspired by the usual landscapes that we do in class, and recalling how much I enjoyed doing my first fashion illustration, I decided to try another fashion-influenced project.

At the end of each class, I would take a photo of the day’s work. It helped me see what I needed to fix and improve before moving on. For example, looking at this photo of the initial sketch helped me shift her features from fully Pinay to more Chinese, and fix the proportions of the body before getting the paint in.

Getting the sketch right and painting in the underlayers was slow work, but it all took off when I laid in that brilliant red in week three. Now that was fun…

[Read more...]

7 Comments
Posted on March 12, 2012
Category: Creative Projects · Labels: ,

Cafes on the wharf

Pedaling against the raging gales of Amsterdam Noord can make one ravenous. I was a little worried about finding a ready meal out in an area that seems mostly like industrial wasteland. 

Fortunately, there’s Cafe Noorderlicht (“northern lights”) on the NDSM-Werf, just a skip-and-a-hop from thrifting havens Van Dijk en Ko and the IJ-Hallen flea market.

The food is simple (soups, salads, sandwiches) and the look is cobbled-together industrial. The most important thing is the abundance of light and warmth.

The vibe is great, though—casual, indie and totally laid back. It’s also a good place to ogle hipsters. I thought I could pass amongst them in my hipster attire of skinny jeans, mixed prints (cats and stripes) and bright red kisser. But no, my simple girl pearl earrings betrayed me! Hipster FAIL.

Aside from Noorderlicht, one can also refuel after (or fuel up before) a day of thrifting at the IJ-Kantine, right on the wharf.

Again, it’s pretty basic (as with most Dutch cafes) with its offering of soups, salads and sandwiches. The interiors are industrial-inspired as well.

It’s a good place to keep warm and grab a quick coffee while waiting for the ferry back to Centraal Station.

On the way back to the city center, you can’t miss the submarine moored in the wharf. I wonder what its story is and why it’s there.

I like the vibe in this part of Amsterdam Noord, and how the ferry ride makes coming here feel like a mini-break from the city. I’m looking forward to seeing what it’s like in the summer… if we even have a summer, that is!
2 Comments
Posted on March 9, 2012
Category: Life in Amsterdam · Labels:

Amsterdam’s biggest flea market

I love me some old things, so I was delighted when one of my friends suggested a girls’ day out at the the IJ-Hallen flea market in Amsterdam Noord. 
Held in a huge warehouse in the old shipyards of the NDSM-Werf (or wharf), it has over 500 stalls selling second-hand items, making it the largest flea market in Amsterdam. The IJ-Hallen flea market is held on the first weekend of every month and costs €4 to get in. Sometimes, they will have a second market day focusing on certain kinds of goods; this March, it’s toys, miniatures, dolls and dollhouses. 
The IJ-Hallen is not nearly as atmospheric as, say, Les Puces de St-Ouen in Paris, but it has its own unique vibe being in a huge industrial complex where ships were once built.
Click “read more” for the full IJ-Hallen thrifting experience, plus our finds for the day!

As with most thrift shops and flea markets, majority of the items for sale are junk. Still, if you are diligent and have a keen eye, there are treasures to be found, ranging from the pretty… 
to the quirky… 
… to the simply nostalgic. 
I was in the market for a vintage wool coat in an interesting color or pattern. I found racks upon racks of winter coats for just €25 apiece, but I was not lucky that day. Check out how far above me the coats are hanging; this is a very typical short-person-in-Holland problem. 
Still, I was happy just rummaging and taking photographs.

As my designated pack mule, Marlon was the only guy in our group. I love how he not only indulges my love of old things, but has also come to appreciate them. For his time and patience spending a day thrifting with a gaggle of girls, he rewarded himself with a handful of funky old die-cast cars from the 1960s.

As for me, I fell in love with these vintage postcards featuring hand-tinted photographs of Zaandvoort and Scheveningen, the beaches closest to Amsterdam and the Hague. They were postmarked between 1903 and 1910, making them over a hundred years old.

I love it when I stumble upon something combines several of my many loves. In the case of these postcards, it’s the beach, vintage, paper and, on the back, beautiful cursive handwriting. 
Can you believe everyone used to write like this, back in the day?
We also picked up a couple of things for the home: a tiny crate to use as a magazine rack in our equally tiny toilet, and a vintage glass decanter, which is the kind of purchase that makes you feel very grown up.

And yes, my bathroom reading material is proudly Filipino!

4 Comments
Posted on March 9, 2012
Category: Life in Amsterdam, Shopping & Finds · Labels: , , , , ,

Marni for H&M madness

If you’re interested in fashion, you will know that the Marni for H&M collection hit stores today. I’ve never been the type to camp out for hours for any kind of retail launch (like the iPhone launches in Singapore), but I did have my eye on a few cute things from the collection. So I thought I would pop by the big H&M store on Dam Square at lunchtime, after my Thursday morning sewing class. 

Standing there with other, equally disbelieving female shoppers, I learned how to say “That’s it?!” in half a dozen different languages. We all circled these two racks like confuzzled chickens until it finally sunk in: This was it. 

This rather low-level commitment is exactly the kind of attitude that leaves one staring at two sparse, forlorn racks of clothing and empty shelves. I say “low-level” in comparison to the Marni diehards who, according to Dutch fashion blog Styletoday, lined up two hours before the doors of H&M opened at 9 o’clock sharp. The types who camp out, have a strategy and brave the chaos will always be the types who are rewarded with the good stuff. And they are exactly the types who cleaned out the collection in less than two hours. Good job, people!

I just can’t compete with those types, so I didn’t even try. Luckily, I saw a size 40 skirt being handed back to the fitting room girl, so I grabbed it before she could put it back on the rack. It fit well, feeds my love of sparkly things and is cut in a shape that I like to wear, so it was a clear yes.

(Apologies for the low-quality pictures, by the way. I had only my iPhone with me.)
I was also tempted by the matching top (I don’t know if I would actually wear them together), but alas, it was two sizes too small. 
After purchasing the skirt, I meandered down to the other H&M store at the Kalvertoren. Here, the women’s collection was in an even sorrier state—it was just down to one very sad rack. In contrast, the menswear was barely touched. There was one man (French, hipster) shopping the collection versus maybe two dozen women. 
This blouse is really funny. It kept getting picked up and put back on the rack by at least six different women. Every time it landed back on the rack, there was another woman waiting nearby like a shark to snatch it up and spirit it away to the dressing room. Eventually, I had my turn with it.

My first thought: “Holy crap, it’s a straitjacket.” And though I love prints, this one was a little bolder than I’m used to. But after I loosened the necktie in back for a wider neckline, it looked much better on me. The sleeves could be shorter, but that’s nothing my trusty sewing machine and I can’t fix. Sold!

I came home with my translucent green shopping bags (very cute, by the way), not quite knowing what hit me, yet feeling rather accomplished and happy. “Well, that’s that,” I thought, pulling my mental purse-strings tight. Little was I to know that the Marni madness was not over yet!

In the evening, I ran into a few Twitter friends who were still trying to score some pieces from the collection. One of them was , who told me to go to the H&M Netherlands site, which still had more things available than the UK or Sweden sites.

Patay!

And that’s how I wound up with these silver leather sandals (a true sign of optimism about the Dutch summer) and breezy top, while Kate managed to score a few accessories. 
Now the madness is over and it’s time to earn back every Euro I spent. Should I do a couple of outfit posts with my purchases when they arrive next week?
2 Comments
Posted on March 8, 2012
Category: Life in Amsterdam, Personal Style · Labels: , ,

Hunter Gatherer: Old books

Of the many blogs I discovered while doing the Blogging Your Way e-course a few months back, Carousel is one of the few that I follow religiously. The woman at the helm of Carousel is Chi Feasey, a London-based fashion designer with a great eye and a bold, fabulous personal style. Chi first got me hooked by blogging about her brave decision to wear just Six Items or Less for an entire month. Her 30-day fashion diary is filled with fun and creative outfits, and had me virtually applauding by the time of its grand finale. 
One of my favorite features on Chi’s blog is her “Hunter Gatherer” series, where she posts a collection of photographs revolving around a certain theme. From a skateboarder’s haunt to folds of fabric, each series is intriguing and inspiring, with lots of details to get lost in. 

Inspired by and as a shout out to Carousel, I’ve decided to put together a little “Hunter Gatherer” collection of my own from my visit to Van Dijk en Ko. They had a large-ish selection of second-hand books, with many dating back to the 1900s. 

I love books and I love paper. Make them decades, even a hundred years old and you’ll have me in a puddle on the floor. 

Most of the volumes that caught my eye were published between 1900 and 1930. It was a time when every printed book was precious and expensive, a work of art. This beautiful book on Dutch paintings, for example, has a stunning trifecta of binding, endpaper and bookplate. 

Old endpapers with a hand-drawn feel. The last really eye-catching endpaper I saw was in a hardbound copy of Harry Potter, but of course it was missing the character of a paper like this.
How they did branding in the old days: the bookseller’s label in each book. Even the tiniest stamp had room for two fonts and a couple of flourishes.

Another art book with an amazing embossed hardcover.

And a tiny book of prayers that fits into a palm or pocket.

I love books with surprises, like a letter or postcard tucked into its pages. Jumping ahead a few decades,  I found this personalized astrology chart in an art book from the 1960s.

This “Electric Cookbook”, which taught Dutch housewives of the 1960s to cook with that newfangled contraption known as an electric stove, held a sheaf of handwritten recipes. Check out that cursive.

This recipe lists currants, raisins, brown sugar and apple juice as its main ingredients. Sounds yummy.

Books and paper can be so lovely. This is why I’ll probably never get a Kindle!

—

This is my first Blog of the Month feature. Every month, I promise to send a shout out to one of the bloggers on my blogroll, in the form of an “As Seen On…” type of post. Let me know if you like the idea… and the post, of course!

8 Comments
Posted on March 7, 2012
Category: Life in Amsterdam · Labels: ,

Van Dijk & Ko

Be prepared for a slew of thrifting posts from me over the next few days. I’m obsessed with finding a desk for my soon-to-be home office, and since I’m on a budget, checking out second-hand sources has been my top priority. One (rare) sunny Saturday morning, my search for the perfect second-hand desk led me across the river IJ (pronounced “eye”) to Amsterdam Noord, which is 14 minutes by ferry from Centraal Station.
Amsterdam Noord is still largely industrial, but it’s considered an “up-and-coming” (i.e. increasingly livable, secretly hip) neighborhood. With wide roads, little greenery and a surfeit of warehouses, it feels like a different planet from the rest of Amsterdam. 
It’s also a killer bike ride, because nothing cuts the wind, which (on the day we were there, at least) is inescapable and so very strong. I felt like 20-pound weights were hanging from my handlebars. 

But my fietsje (little bike) and I forged ahead anyway. I say “little,” because my trusty baby blue cruiser who came all the way from Singapore is microscopic by Dutch standards. I feel like I get strange looks whenever I’m out biking; I’ve seen 11 year-olds riding bigger bikes than mine.

In contrast, Marlon, who bikes to work everyday, has a proper Dutch bike. They call it an oma fiets (granny bike). It’s higher, so you can fully extend your legs while biking and prevent damage to your knees. I don’t bike often enough to care about that stuff, although I should.

Anyway, there was a good reason for the killer bike ride: to explore the 2,500 square-meter second-hand wonderland known as Van Dijk en Ko.

Step inside, after the jump!

All those cliches about shining eyes and a song in your heart? That’s me entering a place like this. Imagine four times this long warehouse space, filled with old books and furniture from the Netherlands, Belgium, France…
… Romania and Hungary. You could kind of tell which pieces were from Eastern Europe: the ones that were folksier, with more pattern and color.

Another Hungarian import sold at Van Dijk en Ko: gorgeous hand-blown glassware. They are brand new, not second hand.

We have way too many glasses as it is, but I need to come back for some of these.

Old mail sacks made of linen, also from France and Hungary, are sold by the meter. I would love a classic French armchair reupholstered in this material.

Aside from books and furniture, there are also lots of old building materials and parts of houses. Iron gate as headboard, anyone?

I could have grabbed a roll of vintage wallpaper for future projects. But I have too much paper at home already.
If we hadn’t been on our bikes, I would have loved to pick up a few of these giant beakers, in arresting hues of emerald and cobalt. 

More impractical but no less eye-catching: a card catalog (remember those?) and a black horse on wheels. I’d love to see someone cycling around the streets of Amsterdam on that!

Though I took my time browsing and loved doing so, I was a good girl that day. My only purchase was a jar of fountain pens (for my newest hobby) at 50 cents apiece.

Unfortunately, my desk eluded me. On to the next!
2 Comments
Posted on March 7, 2012
Category: Life in Amsterdam, Shopping & Finds · Labels: , , , , ,

Adventures in babysitting

Coming from a culture of live-in help, the concept of babysitting is completely alien to me. It’s something I only know vaguely from the paperback series of my tweenhood, like Sweet Valley High or (you guessed it) The Babysitters’ Club. 
I have two friends who recently became first-time moms within weeks of each other, and watching them makes makes me realize that despite being used to hardship in many ways, we Manila girls are very, very spoiled in the areas of childcare and household help. As a child of a single-parent household, I had a yaya until the age of 11. So I haven’t completely wrapped my head around the idea that Marlon and I (well, mostly I) will actually have to do everything—as in everything—ourselves, with only occasional help. I have to admit, I’m slightly terrified. 
I got the chance to take a peek at the life that awaits me when my friend Michelle needed help watching Maddy, her six week-old baby, while she packed for a move. Since it was a Friday night, I got Marlon to come along (he should know what to expect too, right?). 
Michelle and I sent Marlon out to buy pizza while we girls got to do the fun stuff, like hold the baby, change her diaper (pee only, thank goodness), and document her newest skill: rolling over. Adorable.

The most fascinating thing for me to discover was the process of elimination involved in soothing a baby. With the baby unable to communicate what is causing its discomfort, it seems you just have to go down a list of possible options until one works. Hungry? She just fed. Sleepy? Maybe. Needs pacifier or finger to suck on? Try again. Needs to “talk” or move around? Get up and do that. Needs to sit up or lie down? Put her on her cushion. Needs changing? It’s about that time.

Michelle made it look really easy to decipher Maddy’s “signals”, but I guess that comes from doing the same things over and over again for hours on end!

Aside from being a total bundle of cuteness, Maddy was really easy and seemed to take to me well enough, falling asleep in my arms more than once. She was a little more anxious (see the face) with Marlon, who held her and hummed to her, melting my heart in the process. It was all fun, but I guess I can only say that because I get to leave the baby behind at the end of the evening!
You might wonder if this experience has made us feel anything about having a baby. Well, I’ve known for a while that it’s time, and so has Marlon. It’s like I’ve woken up and realized that I’m no longer 17… and that it’s no longer a disaster if I get pregnant! They say there’s no such thing as being 100% ready for parenthood, but the two of us agree that at least emotionally—individually and as a couple—we’re as ready as we’ll ever be.  
In fact, we’re hoping that this will be the year. So, wish us luck. Any volunteers for babysitting?
8 Comments
Posted on March 6, 2012
Category: Life in Amsterdam · Labels: ,

Shock-o-latier

Just off the Meir, Antwerp’s most important shopping street, is the one of the city’s most important monuments: the Rubenshuis. (Note: in Dutch, the vowel pairing ui is pronounced “au,” so you literally say Rubens’ house.) I was surprised at how massive it was; clearly, unlike other famous Dutch artists—Van Gogh comes to mind—Peter Paul Rubens enjoyed commercial success during his lifetime.
Unfortunately, with all the eating and shopping, Marlon, Yeho and I didn’t catch up to the Rubenshuis before closing time. To console ourselves, we backtracked to an interesting building just around the corner from the Rubenshuis—the Paleis op de Meir. 
A 250 year-old building with an illustrious list of owners from Napoleon to William I of the Netherlands to the Belgian Royal family, the Paleis now houses a brasserie, heritage foundation, ballroom-turned-party-venue, and a chocolate shop. A visit to Belgium is not complete without a box of Belgian chocolates to take home, so we stepped into the latter for a visit. 
The Chocolate Line is a Michelin-listed chocolatier established by Fabienne DeStaerke and Dominique Persoone in Brugge. This second shop in Antwerp works out of Napoleon’s former kitchen, which you can step into for a view of the chocolatiers in action. 

Also on display in the the kitchen was a gown created for Miss Belgium entirely out of Belgian chocolate. I immediately notified our resident pageant expert, but he was unable to ID the candidate and year. If it were me, this dress would probably not have made it out of my boudoir. #nomnomnom 

Dominique Persoone calls himself a “shock-o-latier” due to the unique and inventive flavor combinations used in his chocolates. The only thing I really found shocking in his shop was this giant photograph of nude models strewn in an alley, like corpses drizzled in chocolate. It reminded me of the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre as depicted in the French film Queen Margot with Isabelle Adjani. Yikes.

Naturally, we couldn’t leave without sampling the goods. We settled on a box of 250 grams, or about 14 pieces, for €14.50.

Our box included such flavors as mocha ganache, coriander and salted peanut, basil with olives and sun-dried tomato chutney, and lavender.

What’s left of our box now: pralines with sake, wasabi, saffron and curry powder, and bacon. Yes, bacon. I’m saving that for last.
3 Comments
Posted on March 3, 2012
Category: Food & Drink, Wanderlust · Labels: , , ,