The character is so recognizable that she is a true global brand, much like Hello Kitty. Not bad for Dick Bruna, Nijntje’s father, who invented her for his then one-year old son. Or should I say, invented him? There is some confusion as to whether Nijntje is a boy or a girl. Dick himself stated that Nijntje is a boy in his own biography, but the official website says Nijntje is a girl. In the animated series, her voice is female as well. It doesn’t matter a whole lot anyway. S/he is just Nijntje.

Nijntje aka Miffy

Nijntjes first book was named simply Nijntje, and many more have been published since. Every Nijntje book is the same: 24 pages, a verse on the left-hand pages and an illustration on the right-hand page. Dick Bruna deserves a huge amount of credit for his work. The character has been simplified as much as possible, but not too much. She is always in two colours (black and white) and only a handful other colours are used on the pages. The stories are simple, yet powerful. Babies have no trouble recognizing her from a distance.

Commercial success

Author Dick Bruna has been lucky to retain the copyrights to Nijntje for himself. Everywhere Nijntje appears is officially sanctioned by himself. This ensures the Nijntje brand is globally uniform, and this in turn allows one illustrator to market and sell his character all over the world. It will be no surprise the Japanse adore Nijntje. Over the last decades Nijntje has appeared in booklets, posters, toys, mugs, well practically every child-related item you can think of. Dick Bruna is still alive today and still produces Nijntje books.

More Nijntje

By the way, Nijntje has a family name too. Her full name is Nijntje Pluis, which translates to Miffy Fluffy, but I am not sure she has a family name in English.

You pay, you wait

First up is the ondertrouw. As the first official dealing with the gemeente, the (then still) happy couple head to their local gemeentehuis to ask permission to get married. Luckily, it is normally granted. Some caveats though. You legally cannot marry a sibling, nor can you marry under the age of eighteen (with one way out: the Queen can give permission). Normally, the lucky lovebirds hand over their birth certificate, a copy of their passports, they PIN the ondertrouw-fee and Bob’s their uncle. Supposedly, the intent is published somewhere and people can voice their objections. I seriously doubt this ever happens, but theoretically there it is. Note that this bureaucratic system replaces the American possibility to “OBJECT“. You can be dramatic and object all you want during the ceremony, but the marriage will be valid with or without your little contribution.

Location

After the ondertrouw comes a mandatory waiting period and two appointments: one with the ambtenaar who is going to marry you for an intake and one for the actual ceremony. You will need one thing besides love and dedication for each other: a marriage location. From the mid-nineties it has become commonplace, and certainly in the larger cities, to have your ceremony in a location of your choice. Parks are fine (in summer), churches are safe and the bigger public places too, if they have a secluded area. The usual suspects are almost always on a list that the ambtenaar will hand out. If you have a very unique wish, the ambtenaar must take a look first (for a fee, of course) to see if the location is appropriate. Then you draw your calendars and set the date. Popular places like Vondelpark, lighthouse Brandaris, Haarzuylen and various castles are booked at least a year in advance, especially if you want to tie the knot in spring or summer. (Try this Google search for more locations.)

If your celebrations are more of the shotgun-variety and/or you do not want to make a fuss of the ‘where’ you default to using the municipal trouwzaal. The decor varies per gemeente: sometimes it’s really good, sometimes it’s hideous. Bigger cities often have various trouwzalen; Amsterdam even has more-or-less independent municipal districts, each with their own specialities. In smaller cities there is a choice of one. In villages and towns you must go to the nearest city. You are not obligated to marry in the city you live; but there is some (duh!) paperwork involved if you want to do it elsewhere.

Going Dutch on your wedding day

It’s better even because it’s free. Being Dutch there’s even a possibility to not have to pay a dime if you want to get married real quick. Each gemeente has one day in the week when all weddings are free. Usually it’s a monday and usually the entire thing is dealth with in under ten minutes. You can’t beat free (the Dutch will say: “good deal!”) but you get what you pay for. Usually the luckier couples opt for the paid variety and the zero-cost option is left for people who just want to get the paperwork done or get married in church (see below). Naturally, the free ceremony only happens at the gemeentehuis.

Divine blessing

In Netherlands, church and state are separated and have become increasingly separated in the twentieth century. This means that you can get married twice: once in the gemeente and once for the church. The church part is up to you and in principle you get married in your own community; though this is now very rare since Dutch people under 30 seldom visit church. Still, the minister will not mind a bit if you want to marry in his house since it means a bit of much-needed cash. (And who knows, a new soul in the long term.) It is mandatory however to get married for the gemeente first; you even need to bring the official documentation to church. About half of current Dutch weddings (more in rural areas, much less in cities) take place in church, and when they do the ceremony in church is considered the “real one”.

The scary part

Then, the ceremony. As you’d expect there are some ground rules but if you so desire, most ambtenaren are flexible and will accomodate your wish. Various people can have a say, either before or after the official part. If no one will, the ambtenaar will fill the void unless you don’t care even for that. Then the official proceedings: the ambtenaar reads the marriage certificate and a text from the law book governing marriage, called the Burgerlijk Wetboek. You each must declare “YES” and if you’re in for the kill you smile and kiss each other as well. Most couples exchange rings at this point. After that the ambtenaar must seal the deal by proclaiming you both married. The pièce de resistance is signing the certificate; witnesses must be present (one or two for each partner). (More reading here.)

After that, you’re done! You are now legally married and can enjoy tax breaks like the best of ‘em.

Also, it’s customary to throw a huge party. (more about that in a different section)