This Devil wears Zara…..

Posted on September 27, 2010 by Helena

One of the first conversations I ever had with Rupert was at the business magazine we both worked at when we were starting out in journalism.

“Why aren’t you working at Vogue or some other woman’s magazine?” he asked.

I remember being terribly insulted. OK so I didn’t want to be a business reporter, that was just a way in to journalism. But I wanted to be a foreign correspondent, or maybe a Pulitzer Prize winner who had changed the world, and I certainly didn’t want to write about this season’s shoes or Brad Pitt’s love life.

Now, far too many years on, I finally find myself where I belong; on a woman’s weekly mag. I spend my days happily editing articles about designers, make-up, Zac Efron, but also more serious issues such as the everyday lives of Gazan women and inter-religious marriages.

I started off on the magazine as a staff writer two and a bit years ago. In April I became deputy editor. Yesterday it was announced that I will take over from the editor when she leaves on Thursday. I couldn’t be happier. I have already cut my hair a little shorter and am considering the full Anna Wintour bob. I still can’t afford any Prada, but I find Zara a great substitute, especially the shoes, you can get four pairs for the price of one Louboutin.

During one of my interviews for the job the Editor-in-Chief asked me what I would do if I didn’t get the it.

“Would you be interested in one of the other sections?” he asked.

I thought about it for a minute.

No was my answer, and thankfully I don’t have to think about it any more.

Just imagine, I might have ended up back on the business desk…..

A Real Man

Posted on September 22, 2010 by Helena

Some of you will have seen this, but it is so funny I am posting it in case any of you have missed it.

A real man is a woman’s best friend. He will
never stand her up and never let her down.
He will reassure her when she feels insecure
and comfort her after a bad day.

He will inspire her to do things she never
thought she could do; to live without fear
and forget regret. He will enable her to
express her deepest emotions and give in to
her most intimate desires. He will make sure
she always feels as though she’s the most
beautiful woman in the room and will enable
her to be her most confident, sexy,
seductive, and invincible.

No wait… sorry… I’m thinking of wine.
It’s wine that does all that…….

Never mind.

A visit to the boarder

Posted on September 19, 2010 by Helena

We headed up to Dubai yesterday to visit our boarding-school girl. She had a heartbreaking wobble when we first arrived but things went from bad to truly wonderful.

She is a joy to be with and already seems so grown up. I fear though that she may be in the company of some rather wayward lassies. She tells me a few of the girls are there because they need “discipline” and seems to have picked up some new words like “bloody” and “bugger”.

“I could have taught her to swear for half the price,” said my friend Noch.

We went to Dubai Mall to get the boarder a phone and look around. It was while we were drinking green tea at the bookshop cafe when I realised that she really is settling in to school.

“Mummy,” she said, grinning from ear to ear. “There’s a boy in my class that I REALLY hate…”

Here they all are, reunited.

Boarding school Dubai style

Posted on September 13, 2010 by Helena

As thousands of Olivia’s contemporaries settle into damp, cold boarding houses all over the UK, she has moved into what is locally known as the ‘Dubai Palace’ for her first term as a boarder at Repton School Dubai.

The accommodation is a vast villa, with pool. As I left her frolicking in said pool with two new friends I thought briefly about poor little Jane Eyre, incarcerated at the clergy daughters’ school, Morton, on a windy Yorkshire moor. I suppose things are different nowadays, well they certainly are in Dubai…

Olivia settled in so well, I could hardly have hoped for a better start. The other girls seem really lovely and it struck me what a natural environment it seemed to be for a young girl (even with the gold flake) to be surrounded by other girls, most of them older. They all seemed to fit together straight away, it was quite remarkable, almost as if they had never lived apart.

The best thing about boarding is that you have a matron. I LOVE the idea of ‘matron’. Olivia’s is just as I had imagined; homely, strict, clean and capable. Matron is the person who sorts everything out from cuts and bruises to what you eat for breakfast. Like a mother, but a paid one, so possibly more motivated, even when she would rather be doing something else.

Olivia called last night and I imaged her in her little room with all her things on her chest of drawers; it was interesting to see what she took with her. Little bits of home in her new world. She sounded so chirpy last night and could hardly wait to get off the phone and back to her new friends, I hope it stays that way.

I made some new friends too, three, in one day, which is actually something of a record. One of them even lives in Abu Dhabi and Olivia has adopted her daughter (aged 13) as her ‘young mummy’.

The little two also had a perfect start; the loved everything about it. Here they are yesterday morning before Rupert took them to school.

I am so happy to have them all in the English system, although slightly worried their French may suffer. Bea tells me her French teacher has an Irish accent. Leo says all his work was “easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy” – a great English phrase that I am delighted he learned on day one.

A novel approach to the school uniform

Posted on September 8, 2010 by Helena

On Monday school starts for all three children. The little two are going to go to a sweet little primary school here in Abu Dhabi called The Pearl, and Olivia, who starts ‘big’ school is off to Repton in Dubai.

Repton is an English school and Olivia will be a boarder. As with all things English, such as seeing Waitrose washing-up liquid in Spinneys supermarket here or walking into M&S, this makes me feel terribly secure for some reason. I don’t mean the boarding, but the Englishness of it.

Olivia will have to wear a school uniform. A few days ago I sent over the uniform list and pictures to my mother for Olivia to see them. She is still in Italy, avoiding the desert heat until the last possible moment.

I called her to see what she thought. “Well,” she began. “I like the blazer and the sweatshirt, but I will NOT be wearing that shirt, or those long socks.”

I did explain to her that a uniform is not something one wears on a voluntary basis. She was amazed. And kept on complaining about the shoes.

So Sunday night she and I (and nasty shoes) travel up to Dubai so we can be at school at 8am the following morning. I am really excited and so is she. I never really felt at home with the French system.

I remember my step-father when I was about 18 berating me for being middle-class. “I can just see you, when you’re grown-up and married, in your middle-class home, with your middle-class husband, sending your middle-class children off to boarding school,” he shouted.

Even when I was 18 I saw nothing at all wrong with that scenario….

Ageing not strictly neccessary

Posted on September 2, 2010 by Helena

Today I wore leopard-print skinny jeans (Top Shop, to die for), leopard-print shoes and scarf. And a white shirt.

“You still have the courage to wear leopard print?” asked a male colleague of a similar age to me.

“He thinks I’m too old to wear leopard-print,” I told another colleague as he left the room.

“Just ignore him,” she said.

“Maybe I am too old to wear leopard print.”

“Too old? With those legs? Don’t be silly.”

Last week in London my friend Annika and I behaved like teenagers, getting drunk and giggling. This week Demi Moore, who is even older than I am, posted pictures of herself on Twitter in her bathroom wearing nothing but skimpy underwear.

I have decided that ageing is not compulsory and that I am going to ignore it for the moment. I will not be posting semi-naked pictures of myself on Twitter or even Facebook. But I will wear my leopard-print skinny jeans for a while to come….