Orange Incoming

The first orange decorations have appeared, and Amsterdam is beginning the annual process of abandoning chromatic restraint. #

Orange is coming. You can see it in shop windows first, little hints that will become complete visual surrender by King’s Day. I noticed several displays on the way to work and immediately began thinking about what I am going to wear, because naturally the national celebration is primarily a wardrobe problem. Orange is difficult on me. There. I said it. Blonde hair and the wrong orange can produce consequences. I respect the Dutch national colour but refuse to let patriotism I do not technically possess ruin my complexion. An accessory will happen. Perhaps earrings. Perhaps something small. Yuri says nobody cares. This is because Yuri has never understood that I care, which is enough people. At work somebody mentioned King’s Day and I realised how familiar the whole build-up feels now. The first year I wanted explanations for everything. Queen’s Day, then the transition, then King’s Day. Dates, customs, vrijmarkt, crowds, routes. Now the signs appear and my brain simply knows what is coming. Streets will become difficult. Orange will multiply. Boats will fill. Plans will become approximate. Comfortable shoes will outperform beautiful ones by hour three. Buy water. Charge camera. Accept that moving through the centre will become a collective negotiation. This is local knowledge acquired through feet. I like it. After work I went into a shop to look for something orange and emerged with something entirely different because I am consistent in my inconsistency. I will try again. On the bicycle home I passed more decorations and felt that little pre-event energy beginning. Amsterdam is good at anticipation. Posters, windows, conversations, practical warnings, everybody slowly orienting toward the same date. At home Yuri asked whether I found orange. I showed him the unrelated purchase. «No.» «I can see that.» «There was a situation.» He did not request details. Wise. We ate, talked, and later I went online to look at accessories because apparently the search had become a mission. Mom would understand. She may not understand King’s Day culturally the way someone here does, but she understands the seriousness of matching. I found something possible. Not too orange. Orange enough. Diplomacy. Outside, Amsterdam is still mostly brick, black water, spring green and evening blue. Give it ten days.

Remember me, Eclipse.