Stone Hipsters

Apologies. I have been a busy bee, buzzing between the hive, the flower and the honey... (Or home, work and the occasional post-work-drinks..) Therefore my writing has shamefully been neglected. Nonetheless, I still find the occasional moment to marvel at the wonders of the world via the genius of the dangerous depths of the internet. In all of those nooks and crannies there are some real treasures. For instance this:

Basically, photographer Léo Caillard and art director Alexis Persani had a moment of creative hilarity. A genius idea that was pretty simple to translate: Leo photographed the classic sculptures at the Louvre in Paris and then his friends posed in a similar way. Alexis then took over to do the retouching and place the clothes on the sculptures. Ta-dah, the Street Stone series were created!

"The creative duo once again prove that nothing is truly set in stone!"

Information here and here. 

Twenty Something

I’m 21 (so I can legally drink everywhere. Yes, everywhere in the whole entire world. But I still can’t hire a mini-van), I have a degree and I have moved out. I’ve done various internships which have all been eye opening, interesting and beneficial in completely different ways. I think I’m ready to admit to myself that yes, Lisa, I am now in the real world. Work, salary, bills and post-work drinks are all a reality.

Wham slam bam thank you ma’am. I guess you could say that I’ve been given free reign on life.

But I still see myself in a somewhat sense of quasi-adulthood / quasi-childhood, a kind of halfway house... Rather than photos in gilded frames I have fairy lights on my wall (dorm room chic), some of my clothes are currently on the floor and this weekend I’m going ‘home’ to visit the fam where I still have my bedroom. I like that. Hell I neeeeed that! If the ceiling were to fall on my head, I could potentially scramble home, tail between my legs and hide under the duvet. Although not literally advisable, it’s nice to know that the option is theoretically still there.

Currently, blogs, TV programmes and the general media are full of the term ‘twenty somethings’ to describe my age and generation; sometimes positively, sometimes negatively. Although I am a wee bit sick of it, it is quite nice. It seems socially acceptable to be in this self-labelled limbo.

The ‘twenty something’ blanket gives me a bit of time to sloooowly ease myself into being an adult. It psychologically gives me a bit of time to fully grow into my adult persona. Ideal. If someone were to say to me today: “you are now 100% an adult” I think I’d be pretty scared. In my books, ‘adults’ don’t make mistakes on tax forms, let the bins overflow or forget to pay bills. Obviously one should avoid these things at any stage, but perhaps a ‘twenty something’ is expected to still make a few mistakes. I like to call it learning by doing.

So despite the fact that I am ready to face the big, bad world and throw myself into the deep end of the rat-race, I think I’ll happily hold onto that ‘twenty something’ label for a bit. A little psychological teddy bear for the road. 

7 Cool Things

When I was doing my last internship at a rather cracking advertising agency, one of my 'workie' tasks was to compile a list of '7 Cool Things' that I'm currently infatuated with and explain why.

ONE:            The new BMW 5 series - looks yum and is a

                           dreamy drive

TWO:           Monet’s 1899 ‘The Water-Lily Pond’ painting - in

                           room 43 of the National Gallery in case you need 

                           convincing

THREE:        Bubblegum - especially Bubbalicious or Anglo 

                           Bubbly

FOUR:           Scrunchies - yes they may be ‘back in fashion’ but I 

                           have been wearing mine continuously since 1996 

                           for simplicity’s sake / to avoid spilt ends. And I 

                           have endured the bullying.            

FIVE:              Podcasts - ideal for the Tube and there’s something 

                           for eeeeveryone

SIX:                 Jennifer Lawrence - her voice, her persona, her

                          dress sense...babe.

SEVEN:         Sarcasm - when will sarcasm ever not be cool. 

Tschüssli!

Switzerland, it’s been a pleasure. I’ve survived. 7 months I’ve lived here now and considered myself very much an objective observer of the culture of cheese, cheese fondue and chocolate.

Things I won’t miss about Switzerland…

Fashion: what fashion?

The Prices (especially food): A single zucchini costs 4CHF. Enough said. Or 12.- CHF (about £9) for the equivalent of a tesco value chicken. I’d rather pay less for Findus lasagne and know I was getting horsemeat…

Shop opening times: Sundays are dead to the world. The Swiss officially go into hibernation. You have no food? Not even biscuits? Tough. Sunday is a day of rest. The same goes for aaaaall Bank Holidays / New Years Eve/ New Years Day / random ‘national feast days’ – you get the idea. For instance Zurich; one of the significant business cities on the globe. But Wednesday 1^st August 2012 (National Swiss Day) it is Dead. To. The. World.

Smileys: I’m somewhat of a grammatical snob. I very much associate smileys in texts with my 14-year-old self texting.. (‘wot u up 2?’ Cringe.) BUT I was emailing the Head of HR at a very prestigious publishing house in Zurich, negotiating a formal job interview… Imagine my absolute perplexity when an email contained “no problem :)” Smilies are absolutely 100% acceptable in Switzerland.

Things that I think are rather nice:

Actual ‘lunches’ at lunchtime: You’d be in the definite minority if you stay at your desk devouring your delights during lunch rather than head out to a restaurant. Lunchtime for the Swiss is a big deal. I must say I rather like the idea of actually sitting down for a meal with the colleagues rather than dropping bits of sandwich on my laptop.

Language aspect: Ah yes the Brits abroad… There still seems to be the assumption that everyone else should speak English. But in Switzerland I feel a fool being only able to speak 2 languages!

Noteworthy but bizarre Swiss Observations

Crossing the road: A big deal for me as I am a self professed ‘car hurler’ – over the years, when crossing the road, I have amassed the great skill of assessing the distance between a passing car and myself so that I can begin crossing when it hasn’t entirely passed. Swiss drivers simply do not comprehend this. They will perform a full emergency stop and let you cross. But wag their fingers at you… Thank you kindly but it’s fine! I’ve judged the space and speed between you and the car heading in the opposite direction and I’m more than happy to cross after you’ve passed me!

Shopping: There I am at the till, ready to collect my plastic bags that I will obviously then recycle as bin liners. But everyone else is whacking out their own ‘eco friendly’ tote bags! Of course this is also an option in the UK, but here I’m not offered a single plastic bag! So what happens if I need to do my food-shopping straight from work? Do I have to take my shopping bags to work?

I'm still alive..

Just in case anyone reads this little bloggety blog on a regular occurrence, fear not, I haven't died / stopped writing / gone into hibernation. I am in fact excessively busy! I have moved myself from Switzerland back to the UK, am house hunting and have started a new internship...

...and Crikey O'Reilly I am enjoying it! It's in advertising and actually something that I see myself doing and getting a kick from! The people are genuinely fun and friendly and the work interesting. Boom. Winner.

Oh and in other news? When I was interning in Zurich I tested and reviewed a car for a the magazine I was working at. Well look at that. It got published! #smugasabug

2kThirteen

photo from here

wham bam thank you ma'am 

...and just like that it's 2013! I honestly can't believe 2012 has gone already, what a year it was!!
Just some of my highlights include: graduating from uni, Portugal with the uni galdem, turning 21, watching the olympics / paralympics (team GB!), helping HM the Queen celebrate her golden jubilee,  completing 2 internships & landing a 3rd one...and and and..

Happy New Year guys and gals! xx

With my fingers in lots of pies

I've always been a huge Ab Fab fan. Such fun! Like most women, I can definitely sometimes relate to Eddy. Perhaps more than I'd like to admit..! But there are certain quotes that definitely strike a chord for me, such as:

Eddy: "I've got my hands in loads of pies darling. Darling! Sweetie! EDDY PIE HANDS!"

While neither Eddy nor myself literally have our hands in loads of pies (I've never been a pie person..) Eddy is obviously referring to metaphorical pies - the variety of jobs, projects and businesses she's got on the go. And this is the pickle I'm sort of finding myself in at the moment. 

I finished university in the summer; with a good degree, from a good university. As an English and History graduate my opportunities are endless, which is great! Fab. So far I've interned in journalism, marketing, PR, event managing and am hoping to also do a publishing internship... 

So far I've really enjoyed all of my placements and could easily have stayed on in each job. But when do I specialise? When do I choose? HOW do I choose?  Can I be an event planning, marketing, journalism PR consultant? Gah. The opportunities are just too many! So many men jobs, so little time. 

Wake me up!

I've come to the conclusion that, in the long and short, having a job simply means one thing - getting up at a certain time in the mornings...99.9% of the time earlier than one would like to. To make this as pleasant as possible, it's vital to start the day well. Yes yes, breakfast is mega important blah blah. But even before that, one factor plays a huge role in a morning routing. The alarm clock. Oh yes. This little friend is the one who tears you from your blissful slumber, awakens you from your pleasurable dreams and confronts you with the reality of your working day. What a little shitter.

To make this brutal awakening as bearable as possible, I firmly believe that one should be well acquainted with one's alarm clock and only use the best possible method. Should it really be your phone? I divulge..

The mobile phone - my go to favourite. Always on me, always a safe bet. Word of caution: it would be wise to use an 'alarm tone' rather than a song/MP3 file. If I use a song and then hear it during the day, my body goes into shock. True story.

The mother - a gentle awakening..perhaps a kiss, perhaps a cup of tea. Aaaah. Then again it makes me want to say "Mummy I can't go in today, I feel sooo poorly!"

The wake up light - from the likes of Philips etc. Claims to 'imitate the natural waking up process through sunlight' and often accompanied by technological tweeting of birds. Way too freaky.

The classic - I got given a really cute Snoopy alarm clock when I was about 12. It was one of those really old-school kinds with the bells on top. Sooo retro. When it went off I nearly pooped my pants and had a heart attack. It is now decoration only. (and obviously tells the time...)

Therefore my advice? None of them are pleasant, but it's probably safest to go with your phone alarm. Realistically you'll have it on you anyway. Oh and place it on the opposite side of the room, then you physically have to leave the bed to turn it off.

Life is a Highway

Monday morning 11.30am. We’d just had our weekly editorial meeting and everyone had rushed back to their various articles / beauty reviews / fashion collaborations. I had met the deadlines that I had been set and was waiting to hear from my editor what format he wanted me to write the next article in, so couldn’t really start anything. My ever so brief moment of pondering on what to do was quickly forgotten, when said editor questions: “Lisa is your afternoon today really busy?” Um no. “Ok, could you pick up the car for me?” Now before you label me the magazine minion / Meryl Streep’s bitch in The Devil Wears Prada, I think it’s important to point out, that in every issue of the magazine someone test drives a car and reviews it, a job I was secretly hoping to get, but that doesn’t go to the interns. So obviously I was being sent to fetch this car.

An hours train journey later I was at the Toyota dealership sat in a sparkling brand new Toyota Yaris Hybrid. Easy. Not so much. The car had so many functions and features I barely knew where to look. But it was only then that the situation became clear in my naïve mind… Picture little Lisa: proud owner of a British driving licence for 3-and-a-bit years. I drive a manual, 52 reg VW Polo (class of 2002) on the deserted country lanes of the Cotswolds. Here I was in a so-new-it-still-smelt-new fully automatic Hybrid and being told to just drive into Zurich; i.e. motorway AND inner city driving all on the right hand side of the road. Un-ideal at the best of times.

I just figured that the more I thought about it, the more I would freak out, so I may as well just drive and drive I did! Whilst I’ll spare you all the technical jargon, it was a surprisingly smooth drive and the male satnav voice was very friendly…I fo sho trust this guy!

Apart from the odd panic here and there, I made it back to the office in one piece. I was SO relieved to arrive at my designated bay in the multi-storey, that I pretty much just left the car and got out… to probably the worst parking ever committed. I definitely couldn’t leave the car like this. Sadly, getting back into the car, I couldn’t turn it back on. I kid you not. I pressed the button, put it from ‘Parking’ into ‘Natural’ into ‘Driving’ and back into ‘Natural’ mode. Nothing. For about 15 minutes this continued. I even read the owner’s manual!! Then I experienced the enlightenment when I lifted my foot off the pedal and the car moved...it had been on the whole time!! Hybrid = silent engine. Simple.

By now I am drained of all energy and emotion. I storm back into the office, banged the keys onto my editor’s desk and snarl “What a load of hybrid @!?$” His reply? “I look forward to reading the article.”

I guess I got the job.

Taking out the trash

I now live in a flat. I have a job. I do the 9-5 (...or 10-6 or 9-6) I commute daily and I read my Kindle on the train. So far so good. I send out emails from my work outlook, attend board meetings, pitch topics to my colleagues and go to post-work drinks. Oh and I have to do the grocery shopping. But realistically, I'm still Little Lise who would rather frolic in the meadow with buttercups.

This whole becoming an adult / joining the Rat Race thing still seems rather dubious... When I was at school, I remember thinking I'd do A-levels, I'd go to uni and then wham! I'd be an adult and go to work. Somehow this has definitely passed me by! Although I have now joined the Real World I guess, I still feel like I child! But then today our Editor-in-Chief (who I definitely consider to be an adult) waltzed in wearing a Sienna Miller t-shirt and announced that she wants a dip-dye. So I guess we all just remain children inside?!

It's been a while!

So I haven't posted on here in a long while, simply due to the fact that a lot has been changing and I guess that my student bubble has well and truly been burst with an almighty bang. The post-uni holiday was amazing, graduation was a blast and lazing in the Hyde Park sun has been dreamy. A small sum of money had been residing in my Nat West Student (recently turned 'Graduate') account left over from the incredibly brilliant student loan and I've been able to enjoy a couple of weeks of being a smug graduate.

Sadly Mr. Realworld was inevitably going to come knocking, and knocking he did! 

So I packed my (many) bags and headed for Switzerland, which for a couple of months, I would be calling home in order to do an internship with a magazine... Fun and games, non? Oh the glamour of journalism, exciting projects, post-work drinks etc etc... While I'm sure that this will still happen (to some degree), primarily there was the small but omnipotent affair of  financial matters. Without mentioning the fact that I owe someone somewhere a BIG amount of money and will probably be in debt for a while (I'd like to think uni was worth it...), the painful and distinct fact that I no longer have this babe of a student loan ultimately hit me square in the face. Living costs and my income, albeit an income, is minimal.

So while I count myself extremely lucky that a) I have managed to bag myself an internship that will actually pay me and b) I have the incredible support of my parents, I have finally woken up and smelt the coffee (it was quite a strong one this morning). 

So let's see how this real life role play goes..

Tralalala

So I take back my whinge. I have been offered an internship with a fashion magazine in Zurich...time to grow up!