If you happen to follow me on twitter, instagram, Facebook or tumblr (yep, I’m a social media addict) then I no doubt don’t need to tell you what I got up to last weekend! But you know me, of course I will anyway. Gone are the days when Paris, New York, Milan and London were the only cities to host their own fashion week. Nowadays journos and buyers travel everywhere from Copenhagen to Toronto to check out next seasons collections and last week, it was all about Amsterdam. I wasn’t planning on heading out to the Dutch capital but then Netherlands über brand SuperTrash made me an offer I seriously couldn’t refuse.
In celebration of their latest collection, Supertrash had decided to host a sartorial extravaganza consisting of a fashion show and 2000 guest party. Luckily for me, they decided to invite a few members of UK press out to join in the fun so on Saturday morning I met up with fellow blogger Alex of Alex Loves, The Daily Telegraph’s Stylist & Fashion Co-Ordinator, Sophie Warburton and the lovely IPR team to hop on a plane to Amsterdam. We arrived to discover two feet of fresh snow and seriously arctic temperatures (thought the UK was chill last week? Well think again!) but of course, that wasn’t going to dampen our collective over excitement which had started to border on insanity during the very giggly journey there thanks to IPR’s Jamaique “losing” her iPhone and then discovering it in her pocket after we’d all spent half an hour turning the plane upside down searching for it. After dumping our bags (naturally I had packed enough for a month) at the gorgeous College Hotel (more on that later) we headed out to explore the canals before stopping for a warming brew at a very authentic Dutch tavern.
By this point the clock was ticking so we slid and tottered (heels + snow) our way to the nearest taxi rank and headed back the hotel to slip into our SuperTrash outfits in time for a pre dinner drink at the hotel bar. One very swiftly swigged Gin & Tonic later we were back in a cab and off for dinner at what turned out to be one of THE coolest restaurants I’ve eaten at in a long time. BO CINQ is a gorgeous Arabic bar & cocktail lounge nestled amid picturesque townhouses along an Amsterdam canal front. Inside the the decor falls somewhere between East Village warehouse-turned-nightspot, luxurious souk and plush cosmpolitan eaterie with exposed brickwork, modernist furniture and candles as far as the eye could see. After a truly delectable dinner of seared tuna and warmed soda bread served with an assortment of scrumptious Arabic dips, we all ordered a different cocktail and indulged in a round the table sampling session… An enjoyable-at-the-time masterclass in drink mixing that left us, or at least me, feeling more then a little worse for wear the next day. Our appetites more than sated, we hopped in another taxi and made for the party.
When SuperTrash said this was going to be a major event, they seriously weren’t exaggerating. Every inch of the vast venue was packed fit to burst with dressed to impress guests and it took us the best part of ten minutes to wrestle our way up to the VIP balcony. From there I got a good look at my surroundings and I have to say, they were very impressive. Down the centre of the room ran a catwalk framed by perfectly manicured topiary behind which sat quite literally thousands of over excited attendees. Above the pillar clad entrance a supersized SuperTrash logo was suspended and corks were being popped as far as the eye could see. But the interior was nothing compared to the sheer spectacle of the show itself. And when I say spectacle, I really mean it. We’re talking cyclists, live horses, smoke machines, quad bikes, flag spinning and a light show to rival the Olympic Opening Ceremony. Amid the extravaganza strode models clad in the latest collection before SuperTrash Founder Olcay Gulsen rode out on a magnificent black steed for the finale. I have quite literally never seen anything like it and probably won’t again for some time.
No sooner had I regained my composure (with the help of a glass of Prosecco, natch) we were ushered downstairs to meet Olcay herself. Clad in a body con black number with waist length tresses and flawless skin, Olcay Gulsen was, in the flesh both disarmingly youthful and incredibly friendly. This coupled with the knowlege that she is in fact a hardened fashioned mogul with stores all over the world, her own magazine and countless high profile TV appearences to her name left me both awestruck and a little bit terrified.
A couple of hours and a turn or two on the dancefloor later we headed back to the hotel for one more cocktail before calling it a night. I’m sure you’ll be shocked to hear that my plan to wake up early, get a large amount of work done and go sight seeing failed miserably. Then again, breakfast in bed in a luxury hotel is a pretty perfect way to spend your Sunday morning.
Huge, huge thank you to SuperTrash and IPR London for a truly memorable 24 hours in Amsterdam.
Love Ella. X