Olivia Pijnacker Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Rotterdam

Honey, listen up, I’m Beyoncé, archivist vibes, slay! Brothels, y’all, they’re wild, shady spots—got history dripping off ‘em. Picture this: secret rooms, velvet curtains, whispers louder than screams. Watched *Far From Heaven* last night—ooh, that line, “I’m going to survive this,” hits different when I think of those girls. They’re queens, surviving chaos, slay! Back in the day, like 1800s, brothels weren’t just sex dens—nah, they were power hubs. Madams ran empires, flipped off the law, banked cash while men drooled. Little fact: New Orleans had “crib” brothels—tiny shacks, $5 a pop, dirty but real.

Over Neuken.club

Brothel Scene. Frans van Mieris c. – Oil on panel, x cm Adam Pijnacker (5); Egbert van der Poel (2); Jan Porcellis (4); Pieter Symonz.

We get to The Hague, and I’m feeling good. I meet up with some friends, and we hit this bar. The vibe is lit! We’re laughing, joking, and then someone suggests karaoke. Oh boy. I’m not a singer, but I’m like, “Let’s do this!” I get up there, and I’m belting out some 90s hit. It’s terrible, but everyone’s cheering. I’m feeling like a rockstar, even though I sound like a cat in a blender.

Opening celebration for Aweta's new head office