So many hats & only 1 head!

“And all your future lies beneath your hat”

John Oldman.

When it comes to wearing hats & glasses, Charlie takes poll position. From an early age on she wore each and every hat she could find around the house and back in my Westwood days she could treasure trove many.

Hats just are her “thing”.

Looking back at her kindergarten days, she used to faithfully entertain her fellow school kids & teachers with her sometimes peculiar choice of headgear.

It made people smile.

Every day another hat, however she woke up, she wore her millinery accordingly.

Still to date she hardly leaves the house without one. At 11, she has a distinct & fun eye for style, although sometimes she just puts on whichever hat she can grab from her closet first.

She is a colorful character & so are her hats.

When we travel, no matter what city or country we are in, Charlie will always find a hat.

No souvenirs or postcards.

Hats.

The last 10 years I have photographed her many times over, so for this post I put together some of the pictures that give voice to who Charlie really is.

I used to love wearing hats myself but nowadays I stick to the few unusual buys I find and when I do I have to hide them or lose them.

Because if I don’t, she’ll take that hat & wear it.

Charlie was not born yet when my, at the time, favourite 90’s television icon, Joanna Lumley, stated in her notorious comedy sitcom;

“You can never have enough hats, gloves & shoes”.

While explaining to Charlie who she was & what tv personality she portrayed, she replied; AAH! I know who she is!

Startled I asked: You do?

Yes.

She is Absolutely fabulous.

L’artisan

“To create art with all the passion in one’s soul is to live art with all the beauty in one’s heart.”

Aberjani, Journey through the power of the rainbow.

(Quotations from a Life Made Out of Poetry)

I met Eugenio Taccini last year at the yearly ceramics exhibition in Florence.

I was after a present for my mum’s birthday when his work caught my eye. At a small stand in the middle of Piazza Santa Annunziata, my favourite in the city,Eugenio had Carlo Collodi’s famous “Tales of Pinocchio” lined up in ceramics.

He introduced himself & passionately talked about his love for the trade & in particular Pinocchio, a story, you probably all know was written in Florence by Florentine children’s writer Carlo Collodi in 1880.

Eugenio is a true &  accomplished artist with a devotion you do not easily find anymore, trust me when I tell you that his is work is out of the ordinary and his character one to fall in love with.

I fell hard.

He invited me to come up to his “Atelier” in his hometown Montelupo, hidden in the Tuscan countryside. It’s one of those things you’d love to do but never find the time for.

I bought one of his works & felt privileged to have met him.

Last week my parents arrived in Florence.

My mum brought the statue back to Italy; Pinocchio’s head fell off. A long overdue visit to Eugenio was in order so I decided to give him a call.

He remembered. “La Olandesina”

So on the first day of spring we got into the car and drove to the forgotten town of Montelupo.

He welcomed us with open arms.

We stepped, so it felt, into the wooden boy’s story itself. He took us on a journey through his chaotic studio filled with his lifetime works of paintings & Pinocchio statues in all sorts & sizes.

Every piece had a story and he told them all.

In order for Eugenio to fix the poor boy’s head, he told us to go and see his last “Opera” on the town’s square.

In front of the Ceramics Museum it was all Eugenio. Eminent masterpieces.

His work lit up the historic Piazza and will be traveling to exhibitions & musea throughout Europe.

I couldn’t help but imagining a piece in my living room.

We walked back to his Atelier and found Eugenio fixing Pinocchio’s head outside on a large wooden table.

From today, he said, I only work “al fresco”.

We said goodbye & promised to keep in touch.

Eugenio Taccini put Pinocchio’s tale into a different light.

No boys turning into donkeys. No talking pieces of wood, just pure, artistic love for keeping the story alive.

I think I met Gepetto today.

( Rare but true, I didn’t bring my camera. All pictures were taken with my mobile phone )

Créativité

“Time and memory are true Artists; they re-mould reality nearer to the heart’s desire”.

John Dewey.

My day started with the biggest smile after reading Karl Dunn’s post on Facebook this morning.

Karl is a dear friend we met in Singapore, he is a class act writer & advertising mastermind. I am his biggest fan.

With his words, he instantly took me back to those roaring years on the Island.

Singapore was nothing compared to what it is now.

It felt small & distant.

A far away place, between the Indian Ocean & the South China Sea, with many different cultures, a lack of things to do & too many rules & regulations but with a promising future, and we all knew.

We could be creative like nowhere else and people would listen & act upon to make it all work.

Everything was possible and possibility felt good, it made us want to be the best at what we did.

As Karl wrote & I quote “The rules meant that there wasn’t much on, so we all had to make our own fun. Everyone I knew was having a photography or painting exhibition, DJing at a club, playing in a band, doing live performance, starting a new venture, changing careers into something they would never get the chance to do back where they came from”

And that’s how it was.

We created.

I painted more paintings in those 4 years on the island then in the past 20 years & I remember being on stage every month reading poetry I wrote myself. It wasn’t until last year I started writing again.

We changed the Asian world of hair, made movies, documentaries & short films, designed buildings, wrote for high class magazines, photographed the “it” models, designed cloths, wow-ed the world of advertising, designed graphically, climbed the ladder in the world of beauty & fragrance & we made commercials, my favourite being the one for Aids awareness for MTV Asia starring all of us.

Without anything we had everything.

They were the most challenging, rebellious, mind-blowing years of my life.

I loved every minute.

So thank you Lee Kuan Yew for having us on your Island for so many years & for giving us the opportunity to be true creatives, trying to make a difference.

I remember how he used to state “In a different world we need to find a niche for ourselves”

He was right.

RIP Sir.

New eyes

“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes”

Marcel Proust.

What makes a picture a winner?

How do you capture people’s eyes with something you consider to be Art?

It’s a tough one.

When I go home somehow my vision changes.

Globetrotting the streets of Amsterdam I am still me, I feel me but different, the Dutch girl that never left, but did.

I know the city’s secret alleyways, I know her inside out yet I admit to being a tourist in my own country, odd it may sound.

Nonetheless, it gives me the fortuity to appreciate the city through incomparable eyes, eyes that never would have looked twice at the things I now see.

Random but familiar signs reminding me of lost times, words that take me back to my old classroom and laughs from the past still putting a smile on my face.

These pictures probably won’t get any “oooh’s” or “aaah’s” and most of you will probably think, what was she thinking? But anything that can take you back to something that once was is a connection, I will never stop photographing it.

Dames

Toiletten

Heren

Overdreven lekker leven

Brieven 317

Dirty Dicks

Meeting Point

Fietspad

Vondelpark

Big Sister is watching you

Ingang

Tearoom

Juf

Duin

Werk in uitvoering

Kaas

Koffietijd

Neem mij niet in de maling

Noordeinde

Rode buurt

Straat fantast

Holland

Blauw

Hot stuff

John…

Het koningshuis

Het centenbakkie

15 minutes of fame

“In the future everybody will be famous for fifteen minutes”

Andy Warhol.

I haven’t been able to write as much as I would have liked to but I was busy being famous.

I couldn’t resist and decided to let you in on what it is really like to be famous for those long, never ending 15 Warhol minutes.

When we were asked by Endemol Productions to take on a role in the Italian hit Reality show Undercover Boss, we discussed the idea and gave in a few weeks later.

Little did we know?

For one week our world turned upside down. Long hours of filming and no contact with the real world I so love. For Fabio it turned out the toughest 15 days of his hairdressing career so far & the ultimate emotional roller coaster.

After the whole episode was filmed we picked up our busy, crazy lives & never looked back until the moment the program was broadcast on television & the phone calls started, followed by the messages & the many flowers, no kidding, flowers.

So we were on TV, 1 hour and 45 minutes. Big deal? Muah! You tell me.

Now let me try and describe to you the craziness that supervened.

10 minutes into the program Fabio had over a 1000 friend requests on Facebook, Alessio around 500 & myself a mere 469, totaling an average of one thousand nine hundred & sixty-nine  new friends, in 10 freaking minutes.

The messages did not stop for days and they are still coming in while we speak.

Fabio received over 2000 phone messages, TWO THOUSAND! The kids and I stopped counting.

First our friends then friends of friends followed by people you haven’t seen or spoken to for years, followed, bizarrely, by people you don’t know, and that’s where it starts getting creepy.

For a couple of days everywhere you go people stare, they can’t place you but there is a sense of recognition, now I am used to the “lookers” because of my unusual hair colours, carefully chosen by Mash Up Haircare & BH Salon but this time around, even though I was pretty orange, (proud to be Dutch!) it wasn’t my hair but my husband…

Fabio is more used to being in the spotlight but even for him this came somehow unexpected. People greeting him on the streets, shaking his hand and complimenting him on his career & his being. It felt like being married to a Rockstar.

Though the responses were all very positive, charming & uplifting the things that go through your mind and how it makes you feel are a different reality.

The kids didn’t want to go to school, I closed myself into the house and didn’t speak to anyone for days & Fabio couldn’t go anywhere without people asking for jobs or having to talk about his life in that 1 hour and 45 minute spotlight.

People get on your case. They get into your head. They all want to know you and they all want something.

Question remains: What do they really want? What are they searching for? or trying to get out of people they don’t know? What makes them want to write letters & be friends with people they have never met? I really don’t get it.

Thank god the madness is fading, the articles have been written, the interviews are over and even though that 15 minute hype made me feel like one of the Beatles, I’d rather be myself, in my own world with my real friends & my real family.

However with all due & enormous respect I salute those who do & somehow manage to  live in the “absolute” limelight of fame.

One million eight hundred eighty-eight thousand viewers.

Joop can be proud.

As for Fabio he got invited by AC Roma to watch the Roma – Juventus match last night in Rome.

I wonder when my new Westwood shoes show up on my doorstep…

Je te vois

“No man, for any considerable period, can wear one face to himself and another to the multitude, without finally getting bewildered as to which may be the true.”

Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter

Every year I promise myself to hop on a train to Venice for the Carnival but somehow I always find a reason not to.

As to why I have no answer.

I used to love theme parties.

Dressing up as the host requested.

Revamp into anyone I wanted to be.

Suspenseful.

Ask me to celebrate Carnival & I run.

However, the masks intrigue me.

Spending time in disguise & hiding who you really are, just for a little while.

Provocative.

Starring into the unknown eye & envisioning who might be looking back at you.

Eyes talking while playing the game of the mind.

Venice is special, the atmosphere is otherworldly, the wigs are pieces of art & the costumes are to die for.

I could spent weeks walking around with my camera, photographing the unusual but the crowds get to me.

Thousands of people all wanting a piece of it.

So in praise of the festivities that ended yesterday I am sharing some of the pictures I took during a shoot with friends in a small & long forgotten town in the South of Italy.

But wait, let me put my mask on first…

Les barbiers légendaires

“Leave the gun, take the cannoli.”

Mario Puzo, The Godfather.

Until now I’ve only met 2 authentic, old style barbers in my life, one in Amsterdam & one in New York.

Classics.

Italians.

The ones you thought only existed in movies.

Pasquale Capone (Figaro) “De Barbier van Mokum” a true Italian who moved to Amsterdam in 1965 & never left.

Fabio & I just happened to pass by his 16 Square meter barbershop when he noticed my undeniably Italian looking hub.

He called us in.

The quintessential “Where are you from” led to the obvious “I think I know your family”

Italians always know each other, one way or another.

Before I knew it we were sipping espresso in between a world of paper clippings and old photos, while the scent of after-shaves & talcum powder took me back to my childhood when I used to watch my dad shave.

The coffees soon turned into wine. Out came the salami & parmesan–cheese served on an old, sliver platter, while he brought to light his 47 years in the business of beards in a city he called home.

His stories were fascinating & charisma like no other hairdresser I had ever met.

Everybody knew him, a colourful philosopher, with an incredible passion for life, people & their beards.

When his next client came in, Pasquale said: Ciao Giorgio, meet my friends.

Franco, whom I met in NY could have been his brother.

Barber to the local stars & mobsters back in the days.

A mysterious, Godfather-like personality.

Undercover.

Sitting outside, on a broken wooden chair, absorbing the city as we know it today. And even though he was a happy camper you could hear the melancholy of “what once was” in his voice.

When I asked if I could see his shop I still remember how he responded with a strong Italo-American accent: “Nothing to see inside bella all there’s left of the old  times is glued onto the window”

In fact, there was nothing left of his barbershop but a few chairs & its mirrors, however the windows talked loudly…

Mona Lisa smile

“Her smile, I’m sure, burnt Rome to the ground.”

Mark Z. Danielewski.

Ever wonder why we are asked to smile in photos?

On my way to what was going to be a nerve-wrecking meeting in Rome the other day, I walked past the Colosseo & no matter how fast you are walking or how late you are running, you stop.

You salute her with a smile, admire her profound beauty and let her historic past bewilder you.

Trust me, she always smiles back.

On this particular morning however, a large group of students caught my eyes first, they were all anxiously trying to fit into a small picture frame for that one “from Rome with love” shot.

When I saw them struggling and asked if I could be of any help, they submissively handed me their cameras, Ipads & countless phones.

I must have taken over a hundred pictures.

25 people.

All smiles.

Duchenne ones.

Instantly more beautiful.

It’s crazy what a smile can do, how heartwarming it makes you feel and how it unites the anonymous. So when I walked into that intimidating boardroom an hour later I thought of that vivacious group of people.

When the Directors sat down, welcomed me a good morning & asked me to start the meeting I felt liberated from all anxiety & gave them my off the-record Mona Lisa smile.

I think I nailed it.

Still wonder why we are asked to smile in photos?

I thought so…

The wind in my hair

“If you reveal your secrets to the wind, you should not blame the wind for revealing them to the trees”

Khalil Kibran.

I have been sucked into the world of hair ever since Colucci walked into my life on a crisp London night some 20 odd years ago.

The reason we met was my hair.

Crew cut versus suave, Italian locks.

A match made in heaven.

We married, made babies & grew up, well, so we’d like to think…

Fabio followed his dream & still is, while I found my true passion.

I fell in love with photography.

There are innumerable reasons why, but first and foremost it is simply because to me, a picture has what it takes to tell a story, and somehow, through the expression, charisma and mood of an individual I feel what that story might bring to light, both visually & creatively.

Charlie grew up in the midst of both worlds & presumably that’s why she is so comfortable in front of a camera.

She is a natural, free spirited child and whether she is grumpy, happy or sad she knows how to make the camera hers. While most children shy away just by the sight of a camera, Charlie is most comfortable in letting you into her life.

No fear, no inhibitions.

On our trip to Puglia last weekend, while walking along the beach, I caught her when she was joyfully playing with the wind that was blowing through her hair, not paying attention to the tumultuous waves smacking the sands behind her.

I took some shots of her, candidly.

No posing but the innocence of a child playing with Mother Nature.

What struck me most in these shots was her hair. It reminded me of that cold night in London when Fabio said to me;

“Wow, I really like your style, I am Fabio, can I cut your hair?

The Selfie Syndrome

What is it with everybody & their selfies?

Am I the only one or is the whole “selfie phenomena” getting ridiculous?

It sure feels like this burlesque frenzy among teens is slowly but painfully taking over the next generation.

It has become part of our daily routine, the minute one sets foot into a school, a bus, a library, a bathroom, or while getting on or off a plane, first things first.

A Selfie.

Is narcissism at the height of its career or at a rock bottom low?

Think about it.

How often do we see someone pouting into his or her mobile phone, or climbing into odd positions in order to photograph oneself best? It’s hilarious.

When did we become so self-obsessive? And when did we need to start provoking & virtually challenge one another in order to belong?

Don’t get me wrong, guilty as we speak and while trying to take funny selfie number 45 for this post (as that’s on average how many it takes at my age) it finally sank in when my teenage son gave me the “mum, you look cool and all but really, you shouldn’t” and my teenage daughter finishing it off with ” seriously you won’t get any likes”

We have turned into a worldwide circus.

Bring in the clowns.

While aiming for the skyline, “I” took a picture of “myself” with my camera’s “self-timer” in NY a few years back.

Far ahead of my time?