Just In Case is as much about detail as it is about time.

In fact, in unites both. It’s a homage to romance, a reverence to sensuality. It won’t allow the moment to be forgotten, just as it won’t permit a woman to be anything less than gracefully bold.

Fragile confidence, girlish wisdom and mature playfulness.

It allows the sensual alter ego in each of us to come out and play. It strips sexuality of all its clichés and pares it down to the very bare essentials of what a woman is like in her dreams. A ballerina on a squeaky floorboard. The glow of a candle. An intimate desire wanting to be shared. Hidden pockets and secret messages.

Just In Case is as a music box.

Picture Just In Case as a music box, carved by a mysterious craftsman. Each time the box is opened, a lullaby is played. It might be a different tune, but the box remains the same.

A flame ignited since 1999.

That’s when Katrien and Vicky shaped their dreams for the first time. Every so often the box is re-opened and out comes a different tune. And as they dance their way into a new paragraph, two painters, whose spirits still hover above the drawing board, look down on their granddaughters and smile.