Young? Present. Impressionable? Present. Women? Present.

NEWS FLASH!

Fashion Role Call:

an entertainment and educational in-school program aimed at inspiring high school students around Australia.

A seven-week program, Fashion Role Call provides students with the:

opportunity to see [the] senior artists work their magic on the models as well as make up hints and tips for school formals, everyday and job interviews


This just doesn’t sit with me, really.

Centre stage, [spotlight]: Here are large numbers of Young, Impressionable Women, who are smack bang in the middle of some of the most critical years of their self-development.

Enter stage right: Large, Influential Cosmetics Company, whose core business objective is to sell product, to most probably, Young Impressionable Women.

Centre stage: Young Impressionable Women ‘sponge’ up the teachings of Large Influential Cosmetics Company, most likely more so than in an external situation. You’re in ‘learn, trust, obey’ mode at school.

Call me old-fashioned, but I think it is astounding that any secondary educational institution would think twice about approving this kind of activity to take place. We are socialised from a young age to trust that government and non-government high school education has students’ best interests at heart, to promote learning across balanced, extensive subject matters from ethical, just perspectives.

So, we now have a commercial brand making noise in this trusted, ‘healthy’ environment. What values does this push? Let’s think about this:

1. You learn the ways of the world at school
2. DING, DING! The ways of the world have been restructured to include cosmetic application as a necessary inclusion to the shaping of one’s education
3. You need to know how to cake your face properly if you want to succeed with not only job applications, but in life...don’t you know?
   

I’m not bashing cosmetics, I’m not bashing the company. I think cosmetics can be a fantastic means of improving self-esteem and self-confidence, and expressing personality and creativity.

I’m bashing the fact that someone feels it necessary to position (elevate?) this little world on/to the same level as English, Maths or Society and Culture as a curricular requirement.

Retaliation: “yeah but the girls can decide whether or not they’ll partake in the event!”

Sure – but what would YOU do if all your friends stuck their hands up to join in? By and large, peer pressure isn’t just a fairytale.

Further, a number of bodies are actively working to reverse the damaging pressures consistently being placed on women through media and communications. Most recently we’ve seen publications take meaningful, researched steps towards encouraging women to accept themselves as they are; to not be sucked in to a world of ‘aesthetics-equals-your-self-worth’.

Do we seriously need to put even more pressure on women than what already exists? Are we really heading down that street?

Apparently I missed the bus travelling to that destination.

Here's to You...

Here’s to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They’re not fond of rules, and they have no respect for the status quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them. About the only thing you can’t do is ignore them because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as “crazy,” we see genius. Because the people who are “crazy” enough to think they can change the world are the ones who do.

—Jack Kerouac

People Observations - Part 1

Explain this to me, someone?

There’s no denying it, I’m probably the biggest Diet Coke addict in the world. I gave it up after my boss hounded me about it – she involved others on our floor in the excruciating process that was supposed to be my detox. To the point where I’d get evil eyes and lectures from the designer next door if he saw me with it. I’d hide bottles and evidence in true addict style. How ‘rock star’ is that?

Eventually, with all of the grit and determination I had (perhaps you could relate it to the pained expression Yoshi gave sometimes in Yoshi’s Island – oh my God I loved that game), I gave it up. Stopped craving it; could get through days without thinking about it. And I was clean for probably 2 months – don’t ever underestimate how difficult this was.

So then we got a ‘new girl’ who aside from being far better company than the brick walls to which I was accustomed, was also a Diet Coke addict (not to mention fellow coeliac…creepy, no?). And now I’m back on the bandwagon. The one branded with Diet Coke. It has hot pink wheels by the way.

So anyway, I walked into McDonald’s for my fix the other day (I love a good post-mix beverage) and was all of a sudden a combination of startled, amused, confused and concerned by the girl reading in the McCafe section.

See, she was reading a book called ‘Purify Your Life’.

Maybe I've just lost touch? Maybe you’ll need to slap me in the face and tell me to ‘wake up to yourself, girl! Don’t you know that McDonald’s is all pure and shit now?’ but somehow, I just don't think that is the case. I didn’t get it. Surely McDonald’s is not the most encouraging of environments in which to ‘purify your life’? I’d have expected to see this picture hanging in IKU, or above the treadmill at Fitness First.

Just maybe not so much at the biggest fast food chain on the planet.

Green, Green...I Pink Up the Phone and I Say, ‘Yellow?’

I don’t know if it’s just me, but I’ve been noticing an awful lot of talk going on about connection and being contactable via mobile phone lately.

And the general consensus of this dialogue is that these communication devices are having a negative impact on users’ (at least those talking/writing about it) lives. Something along the lines of, “my life is chaos and sometimes I just want to be offline and not contactable – solitude, space, freedom”. And, “how liberating is it to not have a mobile phone? I challenge you to go without yours!”

Mobile phones are fantastic. They also drive me crazy.

I freak out at the thought of not having one and can’t fathom how the world worked without them once upon time. Similar sentiments are expressed by my Gen Y cohorts, who shamelessly admit to feeling ‘naked’ if they (God forbid) forget their phone or land themselves in the position of having no battery. My mum and dad, though – hold the phone: mum has just mastered sending text messages with more than one word – and often letter, or emoticon. I’m pretty sure we even began lessons at using predictive text at some stage. Dad – never answers his phone. This most likely has something to do with him being constantly busy, or his bigger-than-mine-apparently social calendar. But. He takes great pleasure in showing me how the GPS function works. Don’t start me on his marvelling over his iPod touch.

In either case, their generation – Boomers, don’t suffer from the same levels of anxiety as mine at not having a communication device hanging off them. They’ll gladly attack me for not answering their calls when I “have it glued to my hand on a permanent basis, why can’t you answer your damn phone?!” though.

Admittedly, there are times when I wish I could launch my phone off a cliff (funnily enough, I lose it/break it/leave it/drown it frequently enough that this ‘launch’ would just be an awful waste of energy). Where I just want some peace. Like yesterday. I got home feeling brain-dead after spending the day emailing, talking, texting and leaving voicemails to what seemed like everyone in the country. And when my phone played that happy ‘text-received’ tune another FOUR times, I couldn’t bring myself to pick it up for an hour. Is there something wrong with me?!

Then there’s the constant connection we experience via social media. But that’s another post.

I don’t ever experience the same desperation to part with my social media networks as I do with my phone. They’re very visual, quick and easy to work, and controlled by me; where my phone still requires concentration and energy to operate and I can’t control when it rings, beeps, or gets lost.*

So why not just switch it off? Why is there such an anxiety around being ‘phone-less’ when it is so very often a core contributor to my level of stress?

Many an occasion arises when I don’t have time or couldn’t be bothered tending to some of my social networks. Days when I wish I didn’t have a mobile phone because “if I have to reply to another text message today or take this next agonising phone call I’ll shoot myself in the leg and admit myself to hospital so they force me to turn off my phone”. Does this make me an outcast by Gen Y standards?

I watch the younger kids...the scary generation as I call them, do EVERYTHING on their phones. And I wonder if the Gen Y population was too hastily criticised for its dependency on mobile phones. I’m not half as bad (or impressive?) as Them.

Gotta go – my phone’s ringing.

*Note: I also, in general, can’t control my phone. Yes, I’m an invalid and most of my texts will probably give you the impression that I’m drunk. And you’ll most likely get them even if they’re not intended for you. You’re that special.

The Importance of Communication, Lesson One

Alrighty.

You're born into the world with limited knowledge and skill, yeah? (God, I sound like a judge on some talent show. Why is it that they all end sentences of criticism or feedback with 'yeah?' ? "You need to keep your hips more squarely under your shoulders, yeah?")

Granted, some of us are equipped with more impressive, more accelerated technical ability than others, but one could assume that when it comes to the basics, i.e. feeding oneself, dressing oneself, conversing with others in order to transfer simple information etc., we're all relatively on par with one another, right?

WRONG.

The following is the recount of a conversation I just had with a guy (I'm being very generous with my assumption that he was, in fact, a human) from the fantastic establishment that is responsible for the repair of my car [see On My Box: Driving for details - I'll cry if I repeat them again].

Me: Hello?

Guy at Car Place...let's call him Ogg: [muffled sound] erm, ugh hi this is ---cannot understand this bit---from Sci---muffled---and yeah, well I need to let ya know that yeah we've your car it's on its way and---muffled---we've ordered and we've done the assessment and ordered ya parts for ya car, ya little black one, yerp...and so I'll be givin' ya a call---muffled---Mond'ee to let ya in on how it's goin'.

Me: ah, thank...you [Ogg], that sounds really great. I'd just like to check - while you're on the line, if you have any available courtesy vehicles yet? I requested one on Monday and am yet to hear back?

Ogg: ohhh righty ohh ok, um, yeah. Um well, do ya know---muffled---who ya've spoken to?

Me: um, no. I didn't quite catch his name, sorry. Could you let me know if you've got anything available please?

Ogg: err, yep, sure thing. Um, right so my name's ---muffled---Ogg and yep I'll suss that out for ya and so I'll call you back. And my name's Ogg and I'll call you back, k?

My brain: JESUS CHRIST! Did he just tell you his name twice in one sentence? Hang up before you catch his disease!

Me: Thank you, Ogg, that would be fantastic.

Ogg: yerp.

Me: Thanks, bye.

I'm almost certain that he was reading someone's scripted scrawl off a piece of paper as he spoke to me. Like instructions almost. "Right, so this bit goes here, and you connect this tube to that clip..." Either way, he was a stark contrast to the lovely gentleman who looked after the check-in process of my car on Monday. Like, that guy could actually open his mouth when he spoke.

And it occurred to me that perhaps it's not the wisest idea for a service provider to stick some neanderthal in charge of communicating with clients/customers. Leave it to those people who got the head start in life: who acquired the more 'accelerated technical abilities'. Because where I was feeling moderately impressed by the level of service I'd received to date, I hung up feeling amazed by the poor judgement someone had exercised: to have given that guy a telephone.

Treasure your (in)ability to communicate: in all the forms your information may manifest.

On My Box: Driving

Dickhead (n): idiot, fool, retard, moron, cannot drive for shit.

I grudgingly tripped home to Wollongong on the weekend. From the minute I left work and embarked on the perilous quest that is the drive down there, I was agitated. I arrived at mum’s an hour and twenty-two minutes later, battered and scarred (the traffic was hell and it was raining) and absolutely famished. At this point, I realised what I’d gotten myself into and I instantly sunk through the floor into a depression-like state, in which I remained for the most part of my 2-day visit.

But that’s not the point.

The point is, I got stuck behind the biggest prick of a driver going up Crown Street yesterday. In an old Volkswagen Beetle. Cut me off – twice, didn’t indicate, swerved in and out of my lane, cautiously stopped way too early at every amber traffic light etc. etc. You know the type of driver. And it occurred to me, that drivers think that they’re excused for being dickheads if they simply raise their hand and glance at their rear-view mirror post committing an action which otherwise would cause me to slam my fist on the horn and yell profanities out the window.

“Woops – I so totally screwed you up, but that’s ok, I’ll just stick my hand above my head and it’s all good!”

“Oh darn it, I didn’t indicate before pulling in front of you with less than a second between our vehicles and almost caused you to run into my tow ball and clean up your bumper, but no problemmo: I’ll give a quick wave and be on my way, no harm done!”

This type of behaviour really gets up my goat.

And do you know what? It happens more frequently in Wollongong than in Sydney. There is a clear distinction between Sydney and Wollongong driving styles. In Sydney, everyone’s a dickhead, which suits me fine, because it’s predictable. You just drive like a dickhead too, and everything works wonderfully. But in Wollongong? In Wollongong, maybe you’re a dickhead. Maybe you’re not. It’s unpredictable and dangerous to drive down there, because you never know when you’ll get cut off by an invalid in a classic Volkswagen. But you can’t drive around expecting it to happen, or you’ll be the dickhead driver, see?

The moral of the story? (Apart from to illustrate that there is an obvious difference in driving etiquette between Sydney and Wollongong), next time you’re a dickhead, you can easily fix your wrong-doings if you simply flick your hand up apologetically and continue on your merry way.*

If only that applied to other facets in life.

*This does not apply to the dickhead woman who pulled out (at speed) from a side lane without looking and smashed into me last week. I'm now back on the merry-go-round that is dealing with the insurance company, trying to organise my car's repair. I've had enough of the ride, I've had way too much fairy-floss and if I go around again, I'll probably vomit all over you.

Pigeons and Beauty-ful Coles

I just watched as two pigeons tucked into some rice at the Thai restaurant around the corner.

And I wish to God I'd filmed it now, because in hindsight it was the funniest thing I've seen all day and I can't stop giggling. Have you ever seen a pigeon eat rice? Don't write this off as 'not funny' until you have.

Meanwhile. I received a spectacular email this morning. It grabbed my attention for several reasons, one of which being that I love the war between Coles and Woolworths. The war that, across any given week, has me shifting my support between the two supermarkets. I base my decision to support either brand on their marketing and advertising work.

You shouldn't be taxed for being a woman.

The above is the EDM I received this morning via BeautyHeaven - a site which I subscribed to earlier this week (its content is, surprisingly, centred around beauty - product reviews, discussions, recommendations, tips and advice on anything beauty).

What a fantastic strategy: Coles team up with BeautyHeaven to scream out to (who knows how many wonderfully engaged-in-the-beauty-space-already) women that they have a price-based, female-friendly initiative running in their stores. Ten per cent off beauty products, everyday.

(1) Females are typically the primary household grocery buyers

(2) Females like to be recognised for being women - and like brands who talk to them directly

(3) Females who are likely to have interest in beauty products may buy these products at Coles

(4) There is a strong overriding factor in the market at present called an economic downturn: this means many shoppers (yes, including the savvy, influential female consumer) are reassessing and modifying their purchase behaviour.

For these reasons, I'm sure Coles' little piece of communication will work beautifully for them. It plays nicely with their competitive 'value provider' positioning of late, and will certainly work up Woolworths, who seem to opt for the 'quality' spin on their own brand.

Close call: consumers want value and quality. Nonetheless, value has it for me, this week.