You are totally forgiven for thinking I am neurotic. Because I am. And if you didn't realise that before now, reading this will make it crystal clear.
I recently went grocery shopping with Miss I. It was a rainy Saturday at a busy shopping centre so it was hardly ideal but our cupboards were bare and Mr G was working so I had no choice. Miss I was actually in great form, so long as she was holding the list and the pen and I made no gesture towards touching either. It also helped that Coles were offering toasted hot cross buns with butter. So, unlike some trips where the only neurotic behaviour in my immediate vicinity comes from my adorable companion, on this occasion I only had myself to blame.
Mr G and I plan meals each week, write a list and do the shop accordingly. Admittedly we go through periods where the roster of meals that appears on our weekly menu are, err, identical, but we still do the shop by list thing. It does save time and possibly money but most valuably it cuts down decision making during the week. As I manoeuvred my trolley around the people-packed aisles I became aware of the dialogue inside my head. Always an enlightening exercise. There were three threads of thought fighting one another for airtime. Budget. Convenience. Nutrition.
As I picked up each item to instruct Miss I to cross off our list* I was quietly appraising its performance against the criteria eating their way through my thoughts. I soon realised the problem, and source of my minor mental anguish, was that my key criteria do not always co-exist happily. In many cases they're contradictory. Convenient items are often more expensive; but they save me precious time and sanity when it comes to preparing an evening meal in ten minutes flat. They're also not always as nutritious as preparing meals from scratch but that's not always feasible. At least not every night. Another catch is that the healthier products are usually more expensive – wholegrain bread is almost double the price of plain white bread; lean meat is always more expensive than the fattier cuts; healthy snacks like nuts and trail mix cost a small fortune. And so it goes on.
I can't sacrifice any of the competing priorities because cost, nutrition and convenience all matter in the NABM household. So instead it is a balancing act. One that until that particular day I hadn't realised I participated in.
It dawned on me afterwards that the balancing act of doing our groceries is not unlike the various balancing acts we all inadvertently undertake during the course of our lives. Whether it's balancing study time with leisure; work with exercise; family time with personal pursuits; friends with partners; spending with saving; chocolate with broccoli; wine with water; the news with reality television; we all balance competing priorities. All the time.
I suppose for someone slightly neurotic like myself, it's important to remember it's not particularly helpful to mentally appraise the elusive balance at every turn. Or at every item on the shelf as it were that Saturday. Shopping with a list should at least save me from that grief.
What priorities are you balancing at the moment? Or do you have any supermarket wisdom?
*I am clearly lying. Miss I has not yet developed the ability to read, write or cross items off a list.
Wednesday, 18 April 2012
Wednesday, 11 April 2012
Happy Blogday
Today marks my first birthday as a blogger. Cake all around! Twelve months ago I sat in the little student flat in Oxford that was then our home and, spurred on by a few friends, pressed publish. NABM was born. I was a stay at home mum to our ten month old daughter and at the time I wasn't sure how often, about what or for whom I would blog. But I started anyway. It quickly became a beloved outlet that I enjoyed more than I had ever imagined and I blogged a few times every week.
Now, I write less frequently from our more grown up, slightly bigger, apartment in Sydney. I'm a mum to a 22 month old girl and work four days a week. My life is a little different but a few things have remained the same. Writing this is one. As is the fact I can't imagine what I did without this spot to vent; to share; to quiet the whir of words inside my head.
Even without an audience I'd still enjoy writing. But I'd be lying if I didn't admit that my absolute favourite part of having this blog is the chance to interact with you, my lovely readers. My audience is very modest in size but I like to think what you lack in vast numbers you make up for in sharp characteristics – humour, sincerity, intellect and style. Wouldn't you agree???
I can vouch for some of you with certainty because I'm lucky enough to know you. But I extend the benefit of doubt to those readers who I don't know because I know you're out there (hi!) and I just assume you're fabulous too.
About a month ago, over the course of a week, I received some kind feedback from people I don't know and people I know but hadn't seen or spoken to for years. Through Facebook, my work email, Twitter and the comment section a couple of people got in touch. Their comments literally made me smile for a week. And, not for the first time, it made me wonder exactly who you are.
I'm stealing this idea from a MegaBlogger, Mrs Woog from WoogsWorld, because I saw it a few weeks back and immediately thought it would be a fun way to mark the BlogDay milestone. Mrs Woog asked her readers to 'de-lurk' – to come out and tell her who they are. Not by name and address obviously but something about themselves.
So, dear readers, my ears are pricked. I dare you to tell me something about yourself – what you do, where you live, whether you have kids, or a pet pig, how you found this blog, what makes you happy to be alive or anything else you feel like sharing. De-lurk away! And THANK YOU for reading.
Now, I write less frequently from our more grown up, slightly bigger, apartment in Sydney. I'm a mum to a 22 month old girl and work four days a week. My life is a little different but a few things have remained the same. Writing this is one. As is the fact I can't imagine what I did without this spot to vent; to share; to quiet the whir of words inside my head.
Even without an audience I'd still enjoy writing. But I'd be lying if I didn't admit that my absolute favourite part of having this blog is the chance to interact with you, my lovely readers. My audience is very modest in size but I like to think what you lack in vast numbers you make up for in sharp characteristics – humour, sincerity, intellect and style. Wouldn't you agree???
I can vouch for some of you with certainty because I'm lucky enough to know you. But I extend the benefit of doubt to those readers who I don't know because I know you're out there (hi!) and I just assume you're fabulous too.
About a month ago, over the course of a week, I received some kind feedback from people I don't know and people I know but hadn't seen or spoken to for years. Through Facebook, my work email, Twitter and the comment section a couple of people got in touch. Their comments literally made me smile for a week. And, not for the first time, it made me wonder exactly who you are.
I'm stealing this idea from a MegaBlogger, Mrs Woog from WoogsWorld, because I saw it a few weeks back and immediately thought it would be a fun way to mark the BlogDay milestone. Mrs Woog asked her readers to 'de-lurk' – to come out and tell her who they are. Not by name and address obviously but something about themselves.
So, dear readers, my ears are pricked. I dare you to tell me something about yourself – what you do, where you live, whether you have kids, or a pet pig, how you found this blog, what makes you happy to be alive or anything else you feel like sharing. De-lurk away! And THANK YOU for reading.
Friday, 6 April 2012
A little game
Two weeks ago Ingrid from Glossy Beauty kindly nominated me for an Innovative Blogger Award. I was immediately flattered as I love awards and rarely win any. Leaving Primary School ended a brief and happy period in my life where awards were dished out regularly. Alas. Anyway I discovered the Versatile Blogger Awards are a great little game designed to share the link love among other bloggers.
- In Grade 10 I was the only person, out of about 100, who tried out for softball and didn't make a team. It hurt my feelings and pride. A lot. It also very briefly damaged my friendship with Joyce who had dragged me along insisting that 'everyone gets in a team!'
-I love weddings.
-At the end of my first year of uni I lived in Canada for six months and spent a month in both Alaska and Mexico.
-I can't tell left from right without putting my hands up to see which forms the shape of an 'L'. True story.
-I write for a business magazine and quite genuinely love my job.
-I have a gorgeous little girl who was born in England in May 2010. I was in labour for 38 hours before she arrived. Luckily she was worth the wait. It still took me several weeks before I could comprehend why anyone has ever had more than one child though.
-I had Crohn's disease for seven years but thankfully it has been in remission for four years.
Ten Blogs to bookmark
The rules are as follows:
- Thank the person who nominated you with a link back. Thank you Ingrid!
- Share 7 things about you
- Pass this on to 10 newly discovered blogs and let them know they received the award.
Seven things about me
-I love weddings.
-At the end of my first year of uni I lived in Canada for six months and spent a month in both Alaska and Mexico.
-I can't tell left from right without putting my hands up to see which forms the shape of an 'L'. True story.
-I write for a business magazine and quite genuinely love my job.
-I have a gorgeous little girl who was born in England in May 2010. I was in labour for 38 hours before she arrived. Luckily she was worth the wait. It still took me several weeks before I could comprehend why anyone has ever had more than one child though.
-I had Crohn's disease for seven years but thankfully it has been in remission for four years.
Now for the part where I get to nominate 10 blogs for awards. I have nominated the blogs that I actually read regularly. They cover topics from fashion, food and family to mental illness, leadership and life. If you're looking for new reading material click right through!
Ten Blogs to bookmark
3. Faux Fuchsia
6. Woogsworld
7. Life.Styled
Sunday, 1 April 2012
In times of trouble
Regular readers might recall my slightly evangelical stance on honesty. It's not that I think everyone needs to broadcast their every emotion to the entire world. Though, if anyone did choose to do that my goodness my ears would be ready and willing to listen. It's more that when it comes to connecting to the people closest to us, personally, I think more is gained by being frank about the good bits as well as the less-than-good bits. Because there's not a soul on this earth who doesn't have less-than-good times, at least, occasionally, so why pretend otherwise?
I'm not so pedantic that I actually enforce these rules on all of my friends. I know lots of people who prefer to keep things to themselves - which I begrudgingly accept - and whom I love regardless. But when it comes to me I struggle to hide my struggles. Probably less because I am a person of strong convictions and more because I am a big talker. Love. To. Talk.
Anyway it's my little honesty penchant that made me realise I need to fill you in. If you have read my last few posts, there's a chance you might think my life is all French champagne and weekends gallivanting around Sydney with friends. Fortunately there are moments when my life is those things. And those moments are lovely. But there are also times when it's not that rosy. Not even close.
It's not remotely appropriate for me to tell you why but suffice to say I have had some less-than-good moments lately. If you're anything like me, that is an infuriating admission. ("You can't say that and not tell me why!!!") Annoyingly, in this forum, however, 'less-than-good' is going to have to do. Which I accept is less-than-good itself. But moving on…
In times of trouble my natural instinct is to curl up in the foetal position. If circumstances permit, I will literally lie curled in a ball. When circumstances don't permit, I assume the position in my head and hope it will soon pass. It rarely does without some form of positive action that rarely takes place in a foetal position, real or otherwise. This week I discovered, not for the first time, that small children are actually a blessing in these times.
While Miss I had her nap on my day off from work, I lay on my bed and felt sad. Really sad. I lay there wishing that either Mr G or my own mum would magically show up in our flat and take over my caring responsibilities for the afternoon. I didn't feel up to parenting and I just wanted to stay very still. And, then, Miss I woke up and my longings mattered no longer. Not one for indulging her mother in any pity she was raring to go.
There was a sleeping bag she was rushing to remove herself from, a nappy to be changed, afternoon snacks to be devoured (NOW!), books to be read and cupboards to be destroyed. There were meltdowns, cuddles, slobbery kisses and many of her little laughs. Inside I wasn't nearly as light-hearted or joyful as her gorgeous giggles but, because of them, I was a whole lot happier than when she slept. She is an all-consuming distraction and happily the space she gave me from my sadness that afternoon helped. It didn't, and hasn't, disappeared. It's not simple. But it did help.
When you experience a less-than-good time what do you do to cope? Watch terrible TV? Eat rocky road? Cry? Resort to recreational drugs? Share your top tips!
I'm not so pedantic that I actually enforce these rules on all of my friends. I know lots of people who prefer to keep things to themselves - which I begrudgingly accept - and whom I love regardless. But when it comes to me I struggle to hide my struggles. Probably less because I am a person of strong convictions and more because I am a big talker. Love. To. Talk.
Anyway it's my little honesty penchant that made me realise I need to fill you in. If you have read my last few posts, there's a chance you might think my life is all French champagne and weekends gallivanting around Sydney with friends. Fortunately there are moments when my life is those things. And those moments are lovely. But there are also times when it's not that rosy. Not even close.
It's not remotely appropriate for me to tell you why but suffice to say I have had some less-than-good moments lately. If you're anything like me, that is an infuriating admission. ("You can't say that and not tell me why!!!") Annoyingly, in this forum, however, 'less-than-good' is going to have to do. Which I accept is less-than-good itself. But moving on…
In times of trouble my natural instinct is to curl up in the foetal position. If circumstances permit, I will literally lie curled in a ball. When circumstances don't permit, I assume the position in my head and hope it will soon pass. It rarely does without some form of positive action that rarely takes place in a foetal position, real or otherwise. This week I discovered, not for the first time, that small children are actually a blessing in these times.
While Miss I had her nap on my day off from work, I lay on my bed and felt sad. Really sad. I lay there wishing that either Mr G or my own mum would magically show up in our flat and take over my caring responsibilities for the afternoon. I didn't feel up to parenting and I just wanted to stay very still. And, then, Miss I woke up and my longings mattered no longer. Not one for indulging her mother in any pity she was raring to go.
There was a sleeping bag she was rushing to remove herself from, a nappy to be changed, afternoon snacks to be devoured (NOW!), books to be read and cupboards to be destroyed. There were meltdowns, cuddles, slobbery kisses and many of her little laughs. Inside I wasn't nearly as light-hearted or joyful as her gorgeous giggles but, because of them, I was a whole lot happier than when she slept. She is an all-consuming distraction and happily the space she gave me from my sadness that afternoon helped. It didn't, and hasn't, disappeared. It's not simple. But it did help.
When you experience a less-than-good time what do you do to cope? Watch terrible TV? Eat rocky road? Cry? Resort to recreational drugs? Share your top tips!
Sunday, 25 March 2012
Creating consequences
Ok. Confession time. Apologies if this is the naffest thing you've ever read but I have started to write a book. The idea of writing a book is a romantic concept that I have fleetingly entertained over the years. Mostly I've disregarded it as a pipe dream unlikely to be fulfilled. For one thing I don't have a wood panelled study in which to be earnest and scholarly whilst shaping my prose. Another issue is that I don't even know what prose is.
But I have had two ideas floating about in my head for some time and a few weeks ago I was overcome with the urge to begin. I've written bits and pieces over the past few years that will loosely form part of it but last week I wrote what I imagine would be the introduction. It's not long but it made me realise it's a project I really want to pursue.
Now I realise how naff and lofty this sounds. Writing a book is an idea lots of people contemplate; it's a project slightly fewer sit down to finish; and at the end of that it's only a very scarce few who will see their book published. I have an idea in its infancy that in all likelihood will never see the light of day, so why am I risking any dash of self respect I have by telling you? One simple reason. I hope by telling you I help make it happen. And not because I'm assuming there are publishers among you*.
Last year through work I met a young man who started a business with his brother at the age of 21. Two years later they were selling half a million dollars' worth of merchandise from their parents' garage. Almost a decade later through persistence and passion they have created a substantial global business that turns over more money than you or I could imagine**. Inspiring? Very.
A conversation I had with the older brother and his wife really struck a chord. They talked about the power of writing down dreams and ambitions. For both of them, in many instances, jotting down their goals has led to them happening. With complete sincerity he commented how incredible the world would be if each of us wrote down our ideas.
Now I have heard this sentiment before but there was something about these two saying it which resonated. I suspect it had a bit to do with the fact they really walk the walk. It's simplistic but I walked away persuaded.
I've had one experience of this myself.
Earlier this year I interviewed some entrepreneurs about their business goals for 2012. One said that by articulating your goals to your employees, friends or family, or putting them on paper, you substantially increase your chance of accomplishing them. Alternatively if you don't tell anyone what you're hoping for, you give yourself the option of pretending you weren't really trying when it doesn't come off. Taking the step of telling people what you want to achieve is a commitment that seems to create consequences.
So you're on notice. I have a project I'm committed to finishing. And now that all of you know maybe it will write itself??? Do you have any goals you're reluctant to talk about out loud? If so please share, anonymously, if you like. We can do an experiment and see if this caper works!
*If you are in fact a publisher, Hi! Want to publish my book???
**Unless of course you're also exquisitely rich, in which case, I'm still holding out for my invitation to your house.
But I have had two ideas floating about in my head for some time and a few weeks ago I was overcome with the urge to begin. I've written bits and pieces over the past few years that will loosely form part of it but last week I wrote what I imagine would be the introduction. It's not long but it made me realise it's a project I really want to pursue.
Now I realise how naff and lofty this sounds. Writing a book is an idea lots of people contemplate; it's a project slightly fewer sit down to finish; and at the end of that it's only a very scarce few who will see their book published. I have an idea in its infancy that in all likelihood will never see the light of day, so why am I risking any dash of self respect I have by telling you? One simple reason. I hope by telling you I help make it happen. And not because I'm assuming there are publishers among you*.
Last year through work I met a young man who started a business with his brother at the age of 21. Two years later they were selling half a million dollars' worth of merchandise from their parents' garage. Almost a decade later through persistence and passion they have created a substantial global business that turns over more money than you or I could imagine**. Inspiring? Very.
A conversation I had with the older brother and his wife really struck a chord. They talked about the power of writing down dreams and ambitions. For both of them, in many instances, jotting down their goals has led to them happening. With complete sincerity he commented how incredible the world would be if each of us wrote down our ideas.
Now I have heard this sentiment before but there was something about these two saying it which resonated. I suspect it had a bit to do with the fact they really walk the walk. It's simplistic but I walked away persuaded.
I've had one experience of this myself.
Earlier this year I interviewed some entrepreneurs about their business goals for 2012. One said that by articulating your goals to your employees, friends or family, or putting them on paper, you substantially increase your chance of accomplishing them. Alternatively if you don't tell anyone what you're hoping for, you give yourself the option of pretending you weren't really trying when it doesn't come off. Taking the step of telling people what you want to achieve is a commitment that seems to create consequences.
So you're on notice. I have a project I'm committed to finishing. And now that all of you know maybe it will write itself??? Do you have any goals you're reluctant to talk about out loud? If so please share, anonymously, if you like. We can do an experiment and see if this caper works!
*If you are in fact a publisher, Hi! Want to publish my book???
**Unless of course you're also exquisitely rich, in which case, I'm still holding out for my invitation to your house.
Sunday, 18 March 2012
When Joyce came to town
Hello! It was nearly a blogging-free weekend as I've had one of my nearest and dearest in Sydney town for a few days and happily devoted every spare minute to her. As she's based in Brissie we don't see each other that often so when we do time is of the essence. Sadly, she's jetting home now but while she's in the air and Miss I is having a nap, I'll fill you in on my lovely friend and our weekend of fun.
Aside from being a very loyal friend, Joyce is a very loyal commenter on NABM. If you've read her comments you will know she's a very funny girl. I always read them and laugh, then feel lucky to know that in real life she's every bit as amusing as her words. Joyce is not her real name but, in grade nine, for reasons her parents have never quite grasped, we began calling her Joyce in favour of the perfectly chosen name they designated at birth.
This weekend was a particularly special treat for Joyce and her lovely husband, Mr Joyce. Not because they got to enjoy the company of the NABM household but because Mr Joyce's parents looked after their beautiful baby boy in Brisbane. It was their first baby-free weekend in ten and a half months. After their recent trip to Sri Lanka (read Joyce's summary here) a few days footloose and fancy free was just the ticket. Of course this did mean I missed out on some quality time with their little man but I was willing to let that go. I would never stand between the parents of a small child and some free time.
On Saturday morning Sydney put on its best display of torrential, miserable weather so we shelved our tentative beach plans in favour of a trip to the Eveleigh Markets. Being undercover, away from traffic and stocked with delicious food it's an ideal wet weather activity for small children and adults alike. Mr G and I hadn't offloaded Miss I so we plied her with yoghurt and cupcakes while we devoured coffee and crepes. We tasted everything on offer from rib eye steak to olive sourdough with hummus, to goat's cheese to handmade ravioli. If you haven't been to these markets in Redfern I'd highly recommend a visit. Wet or dry I promise you'll enjoy.
After that we brought the Joyces back to our apartment for a tour. That took thirty seconds and we then lounged around briefly before heading back out. The rain had dried up and our next stop was the Paddington Markets where Brisbane label Alexis Dawn was hosting a stall. I didn't buy anything despite a strong urge to whack down my credit card. If I had splashed some cash it was going to be for the Gaya jumpsuit here in coffee and white. Pretty isn't it?? We met up with some other friends and then meandered our way down Oxford street popping into the various stores. I should add that Miss I sat out this activity. Despite my best efforts she is yet to demonstrate any real aptitude for shopping.
We had a late lunch at Fiveways before going our separate ways. Once home I lay down to read the paper and woke up TWO WHOLE hours later when Mr G and Miss I arrived home from their afternoon activities. Night-time called for a babysitter and dinner out. We picked a popular spot in Potts Point called Ms. G's, which despite its uncanny similarity with my husband's pseudonym on this blog, bears absolutely no resemblance to our house. Which is lucky because why would we pay a babysitter to go somewhere that's anything like our own house?!?
Ten of us feasted on plate after plate of yummy, yummy, food. My personal favourites were the prawn toast (ridiculously good), lamb ribs, barbecued corn cobs with parmesan, coriander and chilli, and pork belly sliders. Throughout the evening we caught up on all the big issues; motherhood, quirky office politics, upcoming weddings, work wardrobes and plenty of everything else in between.
This morning before the Joyces flew back home, we met at Nielsen Park for brunch. It was, as it always is with close friends, great fun. We drove away very sad to say goodbye but who am I to stand between a bouncing baby boy and his beloved parents?? Hopefully our next catch up won't be too far away. For now the friendship bank is well and truly flush.
What did you get up to this weekend?
Aside from being a very loyal friend, Joyce is a very loyal commenter on NABM. If you've read her comments you will know she's a very funny girl. I always read them and laugh, then feel lucky to know that in real life she's every bit as amusing as her words. Joyce is not her real name but, in grade nine, for reasons her parents have never quite grasped, we began calling her Joyce in favour of the perfectly chosen name they designated at birth.
This weekend was a particularly special treat for Joyce and her lovely husband, Mr Joyce. Not because they got to enjoy the company of the NABM household but because Mr Joyce's parents looked after their beautiful baby boy in Brisbane. It was their first baby-free weekend in ten and a half months. After their recent trip to Sri Lanka (read Joyce's summary here) a few days footloose and fancy free was just the ticket. Of course this did mean I missed out on some quality time with their little man but I was willing to let that go. I would never stand between the parents of a small child and some free time.
On Saturday morning Sydney put on its best display of torrential, miserable weather so we shelved our tentative beach plans in favour of a trip to the Eveleigh Markets. Being undercover, away from traffic and stocked with delicious food it's an ideal wet weather activity for small children and adults alike. Mr G and I hadn't offloaded Miss I so we plied her with yoghurt and cupcakes while we devoured coffee and crepes. We tasted everything on offer from rib eye steak to olive sourdough with hummus, to goat's cheese to handmade ravioli. If you haven't been to these markets in Redfern I'd highly recommend a visit. Wet or dry I promise you'll enjoy.
After that we brought the Joyces back to our apartment for a tour. That took thirty seconds and we then lounged around briefly before heading back out. The rain had dried up and our next stop was the Paddington Markets where Brisbane label Alexis Dawn was hosting a stall. I didn't buy anything despite a strong urge to whack down my credit card. If I had splashed some cash it was going to be for the Gaya jumpsuit here in coffee and white. Pretty isn't it?? We met up with some other friends and then meandered our way down Oxford street popping into the various stores. I should add that Miss I sat out this activity. Despite my best efforts she is yet to demonstrate any real aptitude for shopping.
We had a late lunch at Fiveways before going our separate ways. Once home I lay down to read the paper and woke up TWO WHOLE hours later when Mr G and Miss I arrived home from their afternoon activities. Night-time called for a babysitter and dinner out. We picked a popular spot in Potts Point called Ms. G's, which despite its uncanny similarity with my husband's pseudonym on this blog, bears absolutely no resemblance to our house. Which is lucky because why would we pay a babysitter to go somewhere that's anything like our own house?!?
Ten of us feasted on plate after plate of yummy, yummy, food. My personal favourites were the prawn toast (ridiculously good), lamb ribs, barbecued corn cobs with parmesan, coriander and chilli, and pork belly sliders. Throughout the evening we caught up on all the big issues; motherhood, quirky office politics, upcoming weddings, work wardrobes and plenty of everything else in between.
This morning before the Joyces flew back home, we met at Nielsen Park for brunch. It was, as it always is with close friends, great fun. We drove away very sad to say goodbye but who am I to stand between a bouncing baby boy and his beloved parents?? Hopefully our next catch up won't be too far away. For now the friendship bank is well and truly flush.
What did you get up to this weekend?
Saturday, 10 March 2012
Champagne days
Disclaimer: If you are at all like me, the following post may invoke some feelings of jealousy towards NABM. To alleviate any such feelings please refer to posts such as this, this or this. I can assure you my life is never as genteel or sophisticated as it was for a few short hours on Thursday.
Now I don't know about you but my working life rarely involves champagne. And by champagne I do mean champagne. On Thursday mine did and I won't even pretend I didn't find it entirely thrilling. One of the perks of writing for a magazine is receiving the occasional invitation to events. Being a business magazine the functions I'm typically invited to are of the corporate conference/round-table-discussion-on-tax-liability variety but sometimes this extends to quite glittering parties.
And the Veuve Clicquot Business Woman of the Year Award lunch at a fancy Sydney restaurant glittered. Brightly. The room was full of fabulous frocks, fashion types, magazine editors, television stars, the royalty of Australia's female business leaders and at least one, star-struck, business writer. Namedropping obviously isn't cool which is convenient because neither am I. Very familiar faces included Vogue's Kirsty Clements, Grazia's Kellie Hush, Channel Nine's Georgie Gardner, Channel Ten's Sandra Sully, Sass & Bide's Sarah-Jane Clarke, Carla Zampatti, Heather Ridout, Maggie Tabberer and her Excellency Marie Bashir.
I can imagine if you had to attend such festivities regularly it might become a tad tedious. Actually I can't imagine that. Who am I kidding? I can imagine, though, that it would be hard to get things done and that real life would start to appear a little dull if you spent the bulk of your working life eating delicate canapés, sipping on the latest vintage French champagne, overlooking the Harbour. But when it happens, say, once in a lifetime it's pretty splendid. Particularly when the $29 Sportsgirl "statement necklace" chosen for the occasion* garners compliments from a few famous faces. That, my dear readers, makes for a pretty good day at the office.
What's the best day of work you've ever done?
*Naturally I put in a little bit more effort planning an outfit for Thursday. Nothing like a good excuse to make a bit of sartorial effort I say. On Wednesday night I trialled two different options. Mr G liked the first one but when I showed him the second he said "Yeah definitely wear that one". I then actually asked him "Did you hate the first outfit?" At that point he rolled his eyes and told me if behaved like that he'd give me no feedback. A torrential rainstorm on Thursday morning meant I had to make a few adjustments – I swapped some bright tangerine wedges for a tan ankle boot and added a cream cardi for warmth.
Now I don't know about you but my working life rarely involves champagne. And by champagne I do mean champagne. On Thursday mine did and I won't even pretend I didn't find it entirely thrilling. One of the perks of writing for a magazine is receiving the occasional invitation to events. Being a business magazine the functions I'm typically invited to are of the corporate conference/round-table-discussion-on-tax-liability variety but sometimes this extends to quite glittering parties.
And the Veuve Clicquot Business Woman of the Year Award lunch at a fancy Sydney restaurant glittered. Brightly. The room was full of fabulous frocks, fashion types, magazine editors, television stars, the royalty of Australia's female business leaders and at least one, star-struck, business writer. Namedropping obviously isn't cool which is convenient because neither am I. Very familiar faces included Vogue's Kirsty Clements, Grazia's Kellie Hush, Channel Nine's Georgie Gardner, Channel Ten's Sandra Sully, Sass & Bide's Sarah-Jane Clarke, Carla Zampatti, Heather Ridout, Maggie Tabberer and her Excellency Marie Bashir.
I can imagine if you had to attend such festivities regularly it might become a tad tedious. Actually I can't imagine that. Who am I kidding? I can imagine, though, that it would be hard to get things done and that real life would start to appear a little dull if you spent the bulk of your working life eating delicate canapés, sipping on the latest vintage French champagne, overlooking the Harbour. But when it happens, say, once in a lifetime it's pretty splendid. Particularly when the $29 Sportsgirl "statement necklace" chosen for the occasion* garners compliments from a few famous faces. That, my dear readers, makes for a pretty good day at the office.
What's the best day of work you've ever done?
*Naturally I put in a little bit more effort planning an outfit for Thursday. Nothing like a good excuse to make a bit of sartorial effort I say. On Wednesday night I trialled two different options. Mr G liked the first one but when I showed him the second he said "Yeah definitely wear that one". I then actually asked him "Did you hate the first outfit?" At that point he rolled his eyes and told me if behaved like that he'd give me no feedback. A torrential rainstorm on Thursday morning meant I had to make a few adjustments – I swapped some bright tangerine wedges for a tan ankle boot and added a cream cardi for warmth.
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