I've complained a lot about the Dutch, I know. And I could easily spend the next paragraph telling you about how my landlord claims that it is my problem-not hers-that my shower is spewing sludge (as Summer would say, “ew”), but I thought I'd take a post to praise those who dwell in these low lands. What a concept, no?

[Inspired by moments on the way to station on this 10th of March.]

Even in the most torrential of gales, the Dutch are out and about, in their red pants and orange sweaters, pausing only when a STOP sign interrupts the bike lane. This bright-colored clothing trend irked me at first. It went against everything I’d subconsciously stored in the Fashion department of my brain. A girl in Los Angeles could never get away with throwing all colors of the rainbow into one ensemble, but the Dutch really couldn’t give a damn. And I love that. They wear whatever they want, unabashedly… even to the office. And they run for trams, for trains, for busses, for anything they think they might perhaps miss. Again, unabashedly. This shamelessness has me smitten. I can see the same people in other cities worrying as to whether people would find it strange that a woman dressed to the nines passed them in full sprint in order to catch the number 72 inner city bus. But in Holland, it’s just another gal who can’t be late for work.