Was The Old Life The Good Life?
Reminiscing about what it's actually like to be a glossy magazine editor, what swapping that for mothering means, and considering whether it's really possible to do both. One day. Maybe?
I did a big declutter recently. OK, I have a 6 month old at home with me all day everyday, so I need to rephrase; I am in the midst of a really long-winded, seemingly never-ending task of trying to declutter. And since we are also mid-bedroom rennovation, I started with my personal collection of incredibly amazing beauty products. It takes up too much of ‘my side’ of the room, my husband is over the moon that I’m finally attempting a more minimalist way of being (LOL, as if), so I emptied the cupboard, and sat among my spoils in a nostalgic haze of beautiful memories, with a thousand swatches on the back of my left hand. Like rooting through any collection of past-life remnants it got me thinking.
I’ve often regretted stepping out of the magazine world, leaving my editorial days behind me and focusing on expanding my family, my work experience, and what the mid-life combination of those two things invariably means; expanding my experience of life in general.
On the contrary, it is easier to imagine your world acutely shrinking when you swap the kind of job I had for babies. The contrast between travelling the world on a whim and maternity leave is enormous, obviously, and then, on the other side, a different career path that eliminates the travel, the people, the restaurants and schmoozing and flying on Bruce Springsteens private G4 jet to see Britney’s Las Vegas residency from a booth right at the front of the stage et cetera. Sighs. That was real life once.
But I have to accept and allow and really properly realise that it hasn’t shrunk. Having kids has swelled my experience of life immeasurably - just in a very very different way. I probably think about and miss the people I worked with on a daily basis. And yes, the frankly phenomenal experiences and opportunities we small group of beauty journalists had together for all those years. But had I kept going with that, I know 100% I would have missed this more. I also wouldn’t have managed to scale my salary (for context, I worked at two different magazines for a total of 11 years and managed one small pay increase in that whole time - only by moving titles. Annual salary reviews did not exist - at least not for my tier of position. But one year we did get a ‘Christmas Bonus’ of a bottle of prosecco). But I reconciled that with the amount, and value of perks that I frankly cannot begin to afford now. I literally did not buy shampoo for over 20 years. Disgustingly lucky, perhaps, but legitimately a vital part of a job that requires you to give market knowledge-based, honest and practical beauty advice to hundreds of thousands of readers.
I was excellent at that job, too. It formed my whole identity and I was consistently proud of my work, and that of my brilliant colleagues and team-mates, many of whom I see thriving in their respective careers now, either pre-kids or unencumbered by childcare issues. ‘It’s their time!’ I tell myself. But I’d be lying if it didn’t also smart a tiny bit. Because that means - proud as I am of them, and my part in encouraging their progression in this incredibly competitive industry - well, it means my time is gone, poof, over. My advice is no longer relevant, my audience (of two) doesn’t care about what active ingredients are in their skin creams (colloidal oatmeal and oat oil actually Marlies - excellent for bathtime since you’re a bit itchy). And even if Bruce would let me back on his G4, our set up means my children would realistically have to come with me, and I don’t think Vegas, or the rest of the beauty industry is really up for that.
And frankly, neither am I.
The reality is that 50% of being a beauty journalist happens outside office hours. Your professional worth is as good as the title you work for, and the more successful you become, the more in demand you are. Breakfast and dinner meetings or events are pretty much non-negotiable. You need face time with brands, PRs, publishers, commercial clients, readers, international counterparts and contributors. And so a nursery schedule - actually, soon enough, a school schedule is just not compatible with that kind of non 9-5 job. There are plenty of working mothers doing wonderful things in the beauty mag world still, but their circumstances are clearly different to mine. In fact, I am yet to work out how any job is compatible with (*shudders*) 9-3 school hours, but since most people manage it, I trust they must be, because otherwise I am f*cked. I need to work. I need to love what I do to be the best kind of mother I can be at home too. I’ve said it before; doing both a home and professional job allows me to appreciate both all the more, too. And I adore my current role. It is a world away from the old one, the old me, but then it works, because so am I.
I love what I do now, both at work and at home, so yeah. It’s OK that I don’t hold the same weight as I did when Christian Louboutin requested a seat next to me at his beauty launch dinner in Lisbon. Or when Tommy Hilfiger literally jumped behind the bar to mix me a drink in a club in Natucket. There’s no one more important than me in our living room, (until their Dad gets home), and that definitely gives me more fundamental fulfilment than an endless supply of free mascara and a business class ticket to Mustique. *Whispers* But yes. I DO miss those things. Have I said that already?!
So, back to this endless clear out. The pinnacle of this post. I have, over the years, collected a vast array of amazing products. The best part of my job was testing, testing, testing. Everything I was writing about, from lip balm to botox, and I hoarded a fair amount of favourites along the way. Now that my life is predominantly socks and slippers, (plus I work in a shop with a world famous beauty hall where I now get my essentials), I just don’t touch this fabulous ‘extra’ stuff. It is taking up valuable space in my side of the bedroom, and so it is time to say g’bye. There are a lot of beautiful, fantastical, brilliant and often still boxed items I can’t bear to chuck, and are surplus to the bin bag of useful beauty bits I’m donating to Refuge, so I’d like to offer them to you, my new audience of lovely, loyal readers.
There are a lot of you, (if I do say so…) and I promised perks to paid subscribers, so this one’s for you. I have separated this huge beauty haul out into 20 packages with a minimum value of £75 each. Consider it a big beauty thank you.
(Also, if you miss out on the mystery boxes, there will be a mini beauty sale of the extra special, untouched, big ticket items I’ve amassed. £5-£20 each from Chanel to Byredo to Hermes to Chloe et al.)
If you’d like a box or access to the sale, you just need to join the dedicated chat button that you’ll see below.
Thank you again so much for reading. You keep me sane.