The price to pay

Being handed your diploma is like being handed a slap in the face, you’ve worked a rather long five years for this moment, cried in bathrooms, stayed up all night writing papers, complained long and hard about the professor who just doesn’t get you, told your family again and again ‘once this is over I’m free to get a job, a better job’. But you know that’s a lie. Because you’re from the liberal millennial generation that was told ‘follow your dreams!’, so you studied arts. Self development of course is the highest kind of study you could possibly imagine to follow, isn’t it? Wrong. Because there are others all following the same dream, hundreds each year, and five precious vacancies in the Flemish arts and culture institute. How to become then that thought provoking higher being when you’re poor and homeless? This isn’t the era of Van Gogh anymore where the struggling artist is given bread and honey to keep him alive in order for him to paint his visions (people really don’t give a crap about your visions). Everyone expects of you a 9 to 5 regardless of how much your creative energies flow. So they hand you this diploma that you’ve been sweating over and tell you ‘congratulations, you’re now an approved artist!’ and you realise that after all this, you never needed that badge of approval, you could have just been one all along. Now you’re not just broke but you’re educated and broke (i.e hyper intellectually aware of your broke-ness). And fuck, it’s too late to turn back and study IT.


The fatal flower is the perverted shy girl, the one you wouldn’t suspect. Under a soft exterior lies a complex being with an unyielding wildness, anchored to the earth by her humble nature and inexplicable dry humour. She is the femme of now, the modern woman who’s thoughts transcend through cultures and time.

Over the coming months let ‘La Fleur Fatale’ be your guide to the hidden insights and stories of a watchful woman’s eye navigating through the ‘European’ way of life. Struggles and mishaps ensue as life is embraced and the thorny introvert femme clammers for life’s answers. All possible subjects are covered from death to Kim Kardashian and from sisterhood to the perfect strawberry frappe.

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