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Thursday evening was a magical evening; it was the evening of the ELLE Style Awards. The ‘Roaring Twenties’ themed evening promised to be a chic night that would take us back to the mysterious 1920s.
Très chic!
And très chic it was! Held in the beautiful Scheepvaartmuseum it literally breathed roaring twenties. Under a starry sky with mysterious lights, flapper girls served the drinks, subtle sounds of the twenties played in the background, and the guests looked like they flew in from the mysterious time age. As chief of fashion from Elle, Esther Coppoolse said: ‘There is a difference between dressing up and putting on clothes.’
This evening was not just hosted because we al like to dress up from time to time. There were some prestigious awards to be given. The H&M Stylist Award and a Personal Style award for which there were several nominees, Best Hair and Belle/Beau of the Ball were awards given to the audience. I realized as soon as I walked through the door that my chance of winning was gone. I could have made a bit more of an effort but was too chicken to be the only one all puffed up with water waves –which Sabrina did try and failed miserably–, beads and feathers. So I decided to keep it simple just as my colleague and me went for the androgynous look with boyish pants.
There was only one thing that could ease the pain in our feet: bitterballen.
Feathers and robots
There was one lucky guy who was crowned the ‘Belle’ of the Ball. David Koppelaar, and man, did he deserve it! My colleague spotted David at the Zara that afternoon buying a few feather skirts. He threw them together and created a gorgeous, very twenties dress. Paired with a wig, sky-high heels and a shiny belt he rocked the evening. Valentijn de Hingh had the honour of receiving the Personal Style Award and Maaike Staal, whose well executed theme was Metropolis, won the H&M Stylist award. I couldn’t imagine anyone else winning those prices, very well deserved.
After the show, like any great twenties night, it ended with a secret party. Flapper girls whispered the code word and gave the guests a bracelet with which they could enter this mysterious after party. More drinks, more jazz music and more dancing. We were not at all complaining, except about our feet. But there was one thing that eased the pain: bitterballen! Because we Dutch ladies, even fashion ladies, like us some food! A touch of Poldermode at this evening that was, unlike other events, very Hollywood-glamourish!
Photography by Sabrina Beek
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