22/07/2013

Monday July 22^nd 2013 was a pretty good day for me. Not only was it my birthday, but clever K-Mids and Baby-Cambridge (literally just announced to be called George) decided to reinforce the fact that it’s an excellent day for birthing. Congratulations Kate and Wills! I will now share my birthday with the future King of England*!

Their emergence from the hospital yesterday evening was pretty cute and they did indeed look rather happy. I did however, pick up on Wills’ comment along the lines of 'we've only just met him, this is a very special time' which I interpreted as ‘we’ve done out bit by showing you our baby, now please do your bit and give us some space and privacy!’ which I think is fair enough. I feel quite sorry for them and really do think that the media coverage is slightly excessive. Then again I think that certain articles such as this one are just unnecessary. I’m pretty certain that given the choice, they wouldn’t want any of this hype and they certainly haven’t asked for it. They simply want to enjoy some time with their newborn, like any brand new parents would! I think it would be wonderful if we could give them a bit of space, but also if people who are bitter / ‘pitying’ of the royals / whatever they want to call it, could just pipe down. If you don’t like the media frenzy, ignore it and go and read a good book. It will have died down soon enough.

*Not to put a downer on the mood at all, but wouldn’t it have been just a teensy bit more interesting if it had been a girl?! History would have been made, as she would have been Queen, regardless of brother or not!

100% of readers of this blog think it’s a cracker!*

Ah the power of marketing and advertising. Even though I like to think of myself as smart, uneasily influenced and resistant to glossy print advertising and super tv ads, I do sometimes find myself in Boots heading to the till with that super swish newly launched mascara that will definitely give me the ‘falsies’ effect – after all, ‘99% of users agree’!

It is 100% true, that most beauty product related ads aimed at females, have a strap line along the lines of “90% of testers” or “9 out of 10 testers” were overjoyed with the product, would use it again and even recommend it to their bff. Wow, must be a super product!

Indicating that 99% of testers were very happy to recommend the product sounds great. I immediately envisage masses upon masses of women all running to their local Boots to snap up said mascara. Then they’ll all run straight home and put it on and POW have fabulously fluttering lashes. Men will go weak at the knees and before we know it the likes of Sushi Samba, The Oblix and any other London venue du jour will be unable to process the magnitude in couples wanting a table for a hot date. I MUST have this mascara.

BUT what we don’t usually know, or wouldn’t even think to consider, is the number of ‘testers’ that were actually asked about the product. We all went through the painful and seemingly pointless process of learning all about proportions and ratios at school and now would be a good time to advocate that accumulated knowledge..! I remember once being suitably impressed with a strong endorsement for a new mascara; 93% of customers who tried said mascara loved it and thought that it was the bees’ knees. Pretty impressive, must be worth the money! Then I read the itty bitty details. The sample size of testers was 7. Yes, seven.

 

So obviously this is an exaggeration, but you get the jist. Companies are quite content with pulling the wool over the eyes of their poor, loyal consumers who perhaps don’t have a strong understanding of sample sizes and reliability… God damn it maybe they simply trust the brand!

When companies were originally forced to start disclosing the evidence for their sometimes amazingly abstract claims, the idea was for customers to receive the clarity they deserve. Now somewhere along the line, thanks to some sly marketing fox that is probably now giggling into his gold, this has gone walkabout. I think that perhaps it’s time to put the issue up for discussion… Even if companies are merely ‘encouraged’ as opposed to forced to use a reliable sample size, one company will hopefully do so and set the standard. Not asking for a lot here pals, simply some truth… I can’t afford all of these new mascaras!!

*Sample size: 1

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. 

topshop.com

The beguiling fashion weeks: one of those happenings that the world watches with awe. At least I do. Or used to. There has been such a shift recently! Now the notorious fashion blogger sits alongside the powerful players… ‘frow’ A/W 12? “Bryan Boy” and Largerfeld side by side… Jealous, moi? (Perhaps a weeny little bit…) Fashion weeks are becoming accessible to the lay(wo)man. Even better than that? The lay(wo)man at home. Even in bed if (s)he so fancies.

In 2011 Burberry set the trend by sharing its looks via Twitter before the clothes even hit the runway! Then for the S/S 13 Diane von Furstenberg show, Sergey Brin (top dog at Google) was in the frow... Quoi? Somehow the line between expressing creativity and a marketing window at Fashion Week blurred a long time ago – Mercedez Benz Fashion Week, sponsored by Vodafone and sponsored a little bit more by MasterCard anyone?! Brin and DvF were wearing some terrifically techy ‘Glass by Google’ frames – glasses with a little camera and a monitor in the frame, just incase the world through your smartphone doesn’t look rosy enough. Some of the models were even sent down the runway in them (although DvF didn’t design them..). The footage from the cameras has been turned into a short film that myself and Joe Bloggs can watch from the comfort of our pyjama bottoms in bed. #streetstyle #bedstyle

But this season it’s trusty Topshop that’s going all dot com. (Anybody else remember when Topshop was in a league with New Look, Dorothy Perkins et al??) Their A/W 12 show is going to be projected across topshop.com, YouTube and Google+. Not only that, but supermodel supreme du jour Cara Delevingne (as well as model Jourdan Dunn) will be wearing HD micro-cameras fitted into their outfits, giving lucky me and Joe Bloggs a model’s-eye view of everything show related... right from the first step onto the runway, to the manic outfit change backstage. Now if those fashion horror stories are true, (think periods and no pants. EW) then I’m not particularly positive that I want to see that..!

 Justin Cook, Topshop’s chief marketing officer, (emphasis here on marketing officer…) has gushed that “consumers will...be able to buy the nail polish the models are wearing and click on the clothes to re-colour them and pre-order them. This has the potential for digital wildfire.” Digital wildfire it may well be Justin, but for me it also somewhat ruins fashion week. Shouldn’t the clothes be the central factor? Isn’t part of the appeal and the attraction of the shows that we as the lay observer DON’T have unlimited access? For me the shows are all about DvF’s impressive creations, or Jil Sander’s clean cut lines. I’m not too bothered about how many iPad Minis Cara can count on the frow and frankly I don’t wish to know whether the no pants backstage horror stories are true!

To be honest I’m not really sure where I’m going with this argument, but that’s ok... I don’t think fashion week quite knows where it’s heading either.

(Duh, I'm obviously still going to watch the whole thing... hashtagging away to my hearts desire with the rest of them!)

Say whaa?

In the words of Bill Bryson, “it is a slightly arresting notion that if you were to pick yourself apart with tweezers, one atom at a time, you would produce a mound of fine atomic dust, none of which had ever been alive but all of which had once been you.” - Bill Bryson, A Short History of Nearly Everything.

I was listening to a literary podcast the other day which mention the above.. Tired as I was, I had no idea how to even begin thinking about this. In effect we're just dust?! But I swear I'm made of flesh, blood and bones? (Not to mention passion, intellect and wisdom. Ha.) 

I think it's going to be one of those topics that I'll save for next time when friends and I have a cheeky drink. Or two, or three. And we'll bring it up and have a DMC. (Deep Meaningful Chat. Obviously).

I'll report back.

3 Things that I currently do that I don’t have time for

What the title says. Literally & metaphorically – make of it what you wish!

*‘Kimye’ – it’s fine, I get it, they’re dating and they’re happy. Oh and in case you didn’t know, they’re having a baby. Which I incidentally feel should be named ‘PR Stunt Kardashian-West.’ This poor child is going to be splattered across the media so much so that it’s face will almost probably become more familiar to me than my own reflection…while earning mummy and daddy Kimye sweet sweet $$$$$$s

*Bern: the picturesque capital of Switzerland. Idyllic, charming and endearing. Superb for shopping it is not, but nonetheless well worth a visit. Japanese / Spanish / American tourists or locals, all bumble along the cobbled streets or gracefully meander through the arcades, stopping to ooh and ah at the delightful displays of local artefacts in the windows… Here two worlds collide. I am an excessively fast walker, I have places to go and people to see.. But no-one in Berne seems to share my mentality! And the arcades are so narrow. So narrow! I can’t get past!

*The cold air makes my hands dry and look unpleasant.

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.

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?!

Living in a Daydream

Having recently read a great article that discussed all different forms of reality, it brought forward a little developing thought in my mind: what reality are we living in? Can we still actually distinguish between fact and fiction? This may sounds slightly odd and I know that Google haven’t actually yet launched their ‘augmented reality glasses’ but let me explain…

Take Facebook; the epitome of a ‘virtual’ Internet reality. Although the idea behind it is a personalized profile to communicate with ‘friends,’ this medium allows us to completely construct a (partially) fictional persona. Don’t lie, some of your photos will be edited (and those that aren’t, untagged!). I’m pretty sure that subconsciously we are fully aware that the comments we post on each others walls will be seen by at least 25 others besides the originally intended, and so the pressure to appear witty/effortless/interesting is on. You don’t agree? Come on, everyone knows if a comment really is only intended for the other person’s eyes it does so in the form of a private inbox…

 

Then there’s the very obvious and ever-present (constructed) reality show. Yes Big Brother was brainless, but at least what we saw was actually occurring in the Big Brother House! As much as I love the likes of Made in Chelsea I put money on the fact that although it’s marketed to us as ‘reality’ the scenes are about as real as my dream last night, in which I finally gave in to Ryan Goslings über persistent begging to go out with me. Shows like the X Factor are no doubt worse and are almost certainly more planned and scammed than anything else!

These shows then provide the opportunity for the rise of the notorious celebrity…in itself an immense facade of planned PR stunts. We think we know Lady Gaga? What’s her real name? And does she really like meat/Kermit dresses or does she know that by wearing them she’ll get press coverage? And you tell me that the delightful Kim Kardashian’s wedding wasn’t a publicity manoeuvre…a fictional fairytale.

Lastly, as much fun as it is to follow, fashion sometimes seems to be one big fictional visual. Most people by now know that pretty much all photographs that we’re presented with of models and celebrities are photoshopped. But what probably most people don’t know is that an H&M scandal was recently uncovered revealing their photo ‘models’ were in fact computer generated bodies with facial images attached. Very real. And let’s not even get started on cosmetic surgery…

In hindsight this article is probably very cynical and I sound like I’m generally very displeased with culture. Far from it! I love Made In Chelsea just as much as the girl next door (if not shamefully more), I think that the H&M models are super sexy and I obviously watch X Factor. (although only at uni. With a big group of people) All in all I just feel that it’s important that our impressionable and naïve juvenile generation with our unquenching thirst for knowledge and culture, remain aware of the broader picture! Even if our access to reality is based on fiction as Deborah Kests says, as long as we’re aware of that it’s all chilled!

Made on Essex Shore, ft. the Desperate Scousewives

“It’s Monday night and here are your news at 10. The German Chancellor Angela Merkel and….” I switch to E4, just in time to catch the review of last week’s Made in Chelsea. Thank god, just in time. Maybe here it dawns on me that somewhere I’m potentially getting my priorities wrong. Obviously I’d like to defend myself by suggesting that as a student I’m allowed to live in the ‘student bubble’ without so much as the faintest idea of what’s going on in the outside world, and yet, as a budding journalist, I do feel naturally guilty and ashamed! A couple of years ago, the U.S. brought us The Hills and The City, only for us Brits to jump onboard the ‘constructed-reality’ show bandwagon and launch The Only Way Is Essex (affectionately: TOWIE), Made In Chelsea, Geordie Shore AND the brand new, yet to be rated or slated, Desperate Scousewives. But why are these shows such a success and why do we knock them, only to actively count down the days until the next episode…in the meantime agonizing almost as much as Millie, that Hugo has probably cheated on her with Rosie in Chelsea?! The drama!!

 As the British public, due to our notorious need for celebrity, we practically allow anyone and everyone to become a ‘celebrated public figure’ who is featured in our media. Wikipedia tells me that Amy Childs became “well-known in 2010 while appearing in ITV2’s semi-reality programme The Only Way Is Essex where she brought the word ‘vajazzle’ to public notice.” Yes, that’s right. She achieved fame and fortune by promoting vajazzles aka vaginal diamante… Kudos to her!

True, 100 years ago our ancestors didn’t have reality shows or even Heat or Hello! to inform them what their contemporary Kate Middletons were up to and yes, perhaps they were less trivial, materialistic and superficial. Then again, look at Georgiana, the Duchess of Devonshire or Lord Byron, the celebrities of their own time. They have always existed. It is in our human nature; we need someone to look up to, to crave to follow, to aspire to. The triviality of our generation lies, if anywhere, in our ability of showing a genuine interest in someone who specializes in genital gems. Personally I think it’s wonderful to admire and observe public personalities such as Stephen Fry, French and Saunders, Judi Dench, JK Rowling…I could go on. Yes, they’re on TV, on audio and in print, but due to their talents, passions and hard work, not the fact that the camera follows them when they go on a ‘constructed’ night out.  

So surely, come next Monday night at 10pm I’ll be watching the news or Stephen Fry’s QI… 

Nah, I can safely assure you I’ll be watching Made In Chelsea because yes, I love it and a little bit of easy viewing never hurt anyone.