Farmaceutica di Santa Maria Novella

I sometimes forget, but long before I had wrapped my head around the brilliance of Emily Weiss, I had already found a personal fairy godmother when it came to matters of beauty. I'm talking about my fabulous friend (have I any other?) Kristien. My ever expanding perfume collection (bane of my boyfriend's existence - he lives in constant fear of the next addition) can be traced right back to a moment six years ago, when she gave me a bottle of scented body lotion from The Body Shop. I loved it so much I had to go buy the perfume as well - and lo and behold, an addiction was born.

She was also the one to introduce me to Kiehl's - I now own 4 of their products, not including samples and the facial cleanser + moisturizer that were confiscated by the evil security assistants at Bologna airport. I fought for my babies, I swear I did. I tried everything from persuasion ("I know you can't take over a 100 ml and the bottle says 125 ml, but LOOK, there's barely 50 ml left!") to puppy eyes to bitchfacing to fake crying. Turns out I'm not capable of that unless you give me a batch of onions and some outtakes from the avarage Britain's Got Talent audition. Group portrait of the surviving relatives:

I dressed them all in black little cloths for a month. Anyway, my following trip to Italy proved to be more auspicious, not in the least because it took me to Florence. Coincidentally, my sweet fairy godmother had recently once again given me a beautiful present. Wouldn't you agree the best presents in life are those you desperately wanted, only you didn't realize until you got them? In a stroke of genius, Kristien had gotten me soap. Not just any old soap. Manufactured by the Officina Profumo-Farmaceutica di Santa Maria Novella, this was, quite literally, the holy grail of all soaps. The Officina is attached to a church, the Santa Maria Novella, and is of the oldest pharmacies in the world. I'm not a particularly religious person, but if us Belgians entrust brewing the best beers in the world to monks, I don't see any reason for them not to excel in other more worldly matters such as beauty treatments.

My friends, this is the soap to end all soaps. The first time I used it - I'm not exaggerating here - I was flabbergasted by how... incredibly... clean?... it made me feel. My skin was so thouroughly cleaned it didn't quite feel like my skin anymore. Back in the days, people who cursed were sometimes punished by forcing them to wash their mouths with soap. I'm pretty sure that whoever was forced to use this particular soap never dared utter more than an awkward whoopsidaisies afterwards. In fact, I bet that upon entering heaven, Saint-Peter will personally hand you a towel, your room number and a bar of this heavenly soap.

So of course, when we arrived in Florence on a glorious Sunday morning, I insisted we should pay a visit to the Officina Profumo-Farmaceutica di Santa Maria Novella. Suffice to say it's quite amazing.

I was about to ask a sales assistant the price of their Aetas Salubris-range when my boyfriend, a little pale in the face, tried to rip the serum out of my hands and hissed it cost about 150 euros. I know a lost fight when I see one and I didn't even try to argue. Let me tell you something about L'Oréal: their advertising slogan does not work on men. Florence was enough of an experience to come to terms with my Aetas Salbruis-less life, though. How can anyone not be content with great wine, the best of company, and a view like this?

Integrity in the online universe

Happy intercalary everyone! (Apparently that's the official name of Leap Day. Who knew?) Long time no post. I don't have any excuses: haven't been especially busy, or even especially uninspired. Just seriously lazy. I have been called a slow gentle animal by some: don't know about the gentle, but the slow is definitely correct. I didn't feel like writing, and even read less blogs than usual. I did keep on following my personal favorites, though. There are some blogs I follow religiously: I never skip their posts and always look forward to updates. I think that gives me the right to consider myself a fanatic blog reader: I might not spend hours and hours reading what's out there, but I'm a very avid follower of a few carefully selected persona grata.

                                  Like these remarkable ladies.


The reason I keep reading these blogs is because a) I simply like them and b) I trust them. I trust their judgement; I trust they are highly intelligent people; I trust they are sincere. There are some blogs out there I like - the style, the visuals, sometimes the glamour - but have a hard time trusting. The reason? I feel like they're commercialising just a little too brashly.

Over the past years, pr departments have realised blogs have enormous marketing opportunity and acted accordingly. Bloggers took notice, too: IFB for instance responded with the IFB Fair Compensation Manifesto. Power to the people! Big bad brands should not be making money from bloggers' networks and expertise without giving something back. Right? Right. I don't think anyone would disagree. It's only fair bloggers should be paid for the added value they provide to brands.

However. Is that really what blogs should do? Provide added value to brands? Function as a cunning marketing tool? Everyone is free to disagree, but to me, something's gone awry. I read blogs because they are written by independent, freethinking people with a unique point of view. I don't read them to be bombarded with affiliate programs and commercials. I don't mind advertising in sidebars that much. They're usually subtle and non-obtrusive. I wish I could say I didn't mind plain old commercials disguised as a blog post, but I do. No matter how smart you write them, they're annoying and disappointing. They're still pretty innocent, though. At least you know what they're about. What I do mind is the sneaky kind of content that makes me wonder who exactly provided the subject.

Take for instance event reports. Tricky shizzle, this. I can't count how many times I saw blogs hyping pictures of hip and happenin' soirées, merrily posing with blogger friends and downing macaroons by the kg. I love a party as much as the next person, but to be honest, I'd think twice before I would go. These parties are courting you to write about them. It's free advertising, basically. I'm not one to turn down fizzy pink drinks and fancy patisserie - but honestly, I would feel like I'm being played. It's all good fun, but in the end, someone is just using you to attract attention.

Also, the the ubiquitous C/O-items. Short for "courtesy of", this means that a certain piece of clothing was a donation from the company producing it. I don't think there's a soul in the world who would object to getting things for free. I'd love to get free clothes on a regular basis, believe me. But these companies aren't handing out five loaves of bread and two fish. This isn't about philantropy - it's not even necessarily about them getting their name out there. It's about companies using a blogger's authenticity to brand themselves in a certain way.

Necklace: Médecine Douce (Available at Le Bon Marché or placedestendances.com / Top: American Vintage. Courtesy of my credit card.

By using blogs as a marketing tool, brands are not only gaining notoriety, they're sponging off the blogs' integrity and authenticity. And you know what? I don't even care that much about it. I truly don't. As long as you're conscious of how the brand is using you, and what you might gain from that. But it should be a matter of careful consideration. Because when you're taking money or other compensation from companies, you aren't just selling ad space. You're selling integrity. Your integrity. (By this I don't mean you'll lose your personal integrity. Just that you're hiring it out. That probably sounded a little whorish, didn't it? Oops.) Blogging is such a personal occupation that I find the mixing up of marketing and blogging difficult to digest. Where do you draw the line between representing yourself and representing others? Ultimately, the question boils down to this: are you blogging as a person - or as a highly personalised brand?

I realise I'm probably not voicing a popular concern, but I'd love to hear your thoughts on this!

Some Paris vintage shops

Paris! I didn't take as many pictures as I anticipated, but I do have some recommendations for you. First up: vintage shops. Paris is the very best city for vintage. You'll find everything: cheap piles of clothes, mid range vintage, consignment stores selling recent second hand from the more costly French brands, vintage paradises stocked with mignon hats and purses and a few high end am-I-allowed-to-touch-this? shops. I want to tell you about three stores in particular.

The first was Chez Mamie in the Rue de Rochechouart. The website is for two seperate shops: Mamie and Mamie Blue, located right next to one another.

The first, Mamie, is a three floor treasury. You'll find some amazing things here, but overall, we found the prices were much too steep. 100+ euros for a tiny purses with ripped sewing on the inside? Pass. The couple keeping shop looked amazing, dressed up in full rodeo mode, but weren't very sympathetic. Maybe it was us, maybe they were hungry, we'll never know. In any case, if you like rummaging and don't mind paying for what you find, you'll have a lot of fun here.

Next to Mamie is Mamie Blue. I thought it more conveniently arranged, better priced and overall more pleasant. The hat selection was particularly nice, as was the man behind the counter. He reminded me of a dandy shoemaker, all buoyant and tongue in cheeck.

I'm a little sad I couldn't get a clear shot out of that last one. On the photo is the shopkeeper and a baffling old lady, trying on all kinds of hats and accessories. She almost made a scene when she no longer found the ostrich purse she had intended to buy - turned out one of my friends had been admiring it and put it somewhere else. What's the fun in old ladies if you can't fool them once in a while, right? But seriously, if I were a rich senior citizen, this is exactly how I would spend my days. Advanced Style-ing the shit out of Paris!


Now, the last shop, Boutique Odetta at 76 rue des Tournelles, was in a different league. First of all, this is a kind of vintage concept store. A tiny vintage concept store. It sells vintage furniture, clothes, accessories and a new line of leather goods. The selection is wonderful (special edition Chanel purses, labels à la Dries Van Noten on the racks) and beautifully curated. Sadly, all of this comes with a hefty price tag attached. Also, the owner scared the bejesus out of me. I was afraid to touch anything, let alone ask if I could take pictures. I didn't even dare take pictures outside, which explains the weird angle in the following photograph. But don't let that scare you: I'm just a big fat wuss. I recommend taking a look at the excellent website before you go, that way you get an overview of what they have in stock.