Nicole Huisman

After years of fertility treatments, missed diagnoses, and a miscarriage, Nicole finally became pregnant, only for Ola to arrive at 25 weeks, weighing 825 grams. What followed were five months living in and around the hospital, navigating the NICU, emergency surgeries, and moments where hope felt razor thin. Nicole shared it all , openly and honestly, and in doing so, found herself at the centre of a conversation that reached far beyond her own story.

She writes a monthly column on style and motherhood for Dutch ELLE, is working on a memoir, and has become an ambassador for Stichting Strong Babies. This spring, with Ola growing and the sun finally back, she sat down with us to talk about colour, coats, pasta vongole, and what it means to exhale for the first time in a long time.

Hi Nicole, so lovely so meet you. Tell us about you and your family.

– I’m Nicole, 37, a fashion-and interior stylist, content creator, creative director, writer, and photographer based in Amsterdam. I tell stories in many different ways, that’s probably the best way to describe what I do. I live life with my partner Friso, we met when we were fifteen, lost each other for a while and found our way back. We live in a 1936 house on a dike in Amsterdam-Noord with our little daughter Ola, who just turned one, and our fluffy cat Obi.

You write about your struggling journey to motherhood in ELLE. Do you want to share what happened?

– The short version doesn’t exist, honestly. Friso and I tried for years. We went through every test, every waiting room, every ‘just relax and it’ll happen’ comment you can imagine. Eventually we ended up at a clinic in Belgium because a Dutch hospital had missed key diagnoses. We did ICSI, had a miscarriage, started again. Multiple operations and more setbacks in between. When I finally got pregnant with Ola, she arrived at 25 weeks, weighing 825 grams. She spent 93 days in the NICU and 2,5 months in high care. In April last year, we finally brought her home. So when people ask ‘what happened,’ the answer is: everything. But she’s here. And she’s incredible.

How did something so personal become something you chose to share publicly?

– I didn’t set out to make it public. I started sharing on Instagram because I was lonely in it. And then women started writing to me, every day, saying ‘this is my story too.’ That changed everything. I made a podcast with ELLE called “Voor Een Baby Naar België” while I didn’t even know if our story would have a happy ending. I’m now writing a memoir. I became an ambassador for Stichting Strong Babies. It all comes from the same place: sharing heals. Not just for me, for the person reading it too. If even one woman feels less alone because of something I shared, it was worth every vulnerable moment.

Did the long road to Ola change what you thought motherhood would feel like?

– Yes and no. I always thought I’d love it. What I knew but only truly felt when I became a mom is how layered it would be. There’s immense joy and there’s grief and worry sitting right next to it. Her milestones don’t come easy or fast, and I’ve learned that my version of motherhood includes stopwatches for eye patches and exercises for her motor development. Endless medical checks and specialists to connect with. It’s not what I pictured. It’s harder and it’s deeper. And the love I feel is more immense than I ever could have imagined.

You worked on Ola’s room during those five months in hospital. Tell us about it.

– Her room was my lifeline on the good days. Something I could control when everything else was out of my hands. It’s colourful, obviously, because nothing in our house isn’t. I wanted it to feel warm and playful and completely hers. A place that was waiting for her, ready, full of hope, optimism and light. It still feels that way.

How did half a year in a hospital change your relationship with home?

– I never take it for granted anymore. Walking through my own front door, cooking in my own kitchen, sleeping in my own bed with Friso and sometimes with Ola. After months of hospital corridors and beeping machines, home became almost sacred. Our house was already special to us, we renovated it from the ground up right after Covid, we built our dream house. But after months of NICU and high care it became something else. A place we fought to bring her home to.

What’s the most ordinary moment of motherhood that secretly means everything to you?

– Waking up to her happy babbling. I never set an alarm anymore. I always wake up smiling, thanks to her.

Did becoming a mother change your relationship with clothes?

– Completely. My body went through so much, the hormones, the pregnancy, a tough delivery with surgery and three litres of blood loss, then 1,5 year of breastfeeding where I lost kilo after kilo. For a long time getting dressed was purely functional. But I’m finding my way back, finding my joy and creativity back. My ELLE column is actually about this, not about buying more but about doing more with what you have. Styling yourself with intention. That feels more relevant to me now than ever.

Where does your love for fashion come from?

– Fashion has been my language since I was young. My mother shared that with me, she had an incredible enthusiasm for clothes and always encouraged me to express myself through what I wore, through style. I studied Fashion & Branding at the Amsterdam Fashion Institute, worked as a fashion editor at ELLE for five years starting at 22, then went freelance to explore what else was out there in the creative industry. But my relationship with fashion has shifted. I’m less interested in trends and more interested in personal style, in the story your clothes tell and how they make you feel. That’s what I write about now. Fashion and interior are so connected to me, both are about colour, texture, composition, creating a world that feels like you. Working in both fields has always felt natural.

Any favourite brands right now?

– That shifts per season. Right now I’m very into everything Super Yaya makes, a Lebanese designer, and About Arianne for shoes. I love the universes of Caro Editions and Cecilie Bahnsen. I also love supporting my creative friends: Sophie Joanne makes incredible jewellery, Reyèm is where I get all my staple pieces. And of course Dutch brands doing amazing things, like Love Stories and Flore Flore. Designer items I always shop vintage. I’d rather mix boutique brands with one great vintage designer piece than wear head-to-toe anything.

How would you describe the way you live?

– Full of colour and optimism. Our house is an old dike house that we renovated with so much love. There’s a bold blue staircase, a green bathroom, a lilac one, Moroccan tiles, a minty sink, a purple kitchen, printed fabrics everywhere. It’s not minimal, it’s not quiet, it’s us. However, since so much is happening in terms of interior elements, I’m keen to keep it organised. Which is a challenge with a little one and all the products that come with my job, haha!

Whats your  favourite room?

– Life happens in the kitchen. It’s where I cook, where friends sit, where Ola took her first bites. I also love our front room, it’s where I work, surrounded by favourite objects that inspire me. But right now, it’s Ola’s room. I love spending time there with her and I have the feeling she loves it too.

Do style and motherhood feel connected to you?

– Both are about identity, about how you present yourself to the world and how that shifts when your world changes. Becoming a mother didn’t erase my sense of style, it complicated it in the best way. I want to share about that honestly on my Instagram and in my ELLE column, not the Pinterest version.

What does a good morning at home look like right now?

– Slow. Ola wakes up chatty and happy, Friso makes us coffee (and a bottle for Ola) and we relax in our bed with the three of us. No phone for the first hour, ideally. Sun coming through the windows, all the time in the world, fun options for the day but no strict plans. That’s a good morning. It doesn’t always happen like that, but when it does, I notice.

What’s something small that brings you joy these days?

– The feeling of the sun on my skin. It’s always been a thing for me, but this spring hits different. Last spring Ola was still so small and the worries were so big. They’re still there, but they’re getting smaller while she’s getting bigger. Sitting in the garden with her now, sun on our faces, feels like breathing out for the first time in a long time. New energy, a new beginning.

Do you collect anything?

– Coats, unintentionally. Not the most practical when it comes to closet space.

Describe your perfect dinner with loved ones.

– Pasta vongole, always. Good wine, juicy whites and reds, lots of it. Candles, linen, mismatched plates. Random flowers. Nothing precious, everything beautiful. Conversations that go in every direction at once and last way too long. It’s my favourite thing in the world.

A favourite object?

– So many objects in our house have a beautiful story. Vintage pieces gifted or found by friends, things I picked up at curated designer vintage sales, or objects we’ve built memories with, like the chair I found for free and had reupholstered, the one where I fed Ola during the night, just the two of us.

If I had to name one: recently, a furniture maker sent me a message saying he was moved by Ola’s story and wanted to ask if he could make her a chair. He did, and I was amazed by his talent and kindness. Soon after, I included him in an interior project I was working on and we became friends. He lives nearby with his girlfriend and their baby daughter too, which is such a beautiful coincidence. That chair holds a special place.

Something you’d like to recommend?

– Share your story. Whatever it is. The thing you think is too vulnerable or too personal or too much, that’s exactly the thing someone else needs to hear. It heals. Both of you.