Thank you for opting for the meatier version. Grab a cuppa/glass of wine and have a self imposed Kitkat moment to read below. I hope you’ll find it telling.
It’s a personal thing really. The change. This intentional autonomy, this self imposed potentially disastrous financial & career enhancing adventure. Yet it remains something I must do. It’s the next chapter in my story.
I’ve never found change difficult, as many of you subjected to my tall tales will have gathered. Moving country, adapting career, challenging my boundaries, creating ridiculously long winded and grammatically-incorrect-for-effect sentences. In fact I seek it. To add colour, depth, texture to my story. Although I feel it necessary here to assure you, I can also write a short, sharp, to the point email better than most.
Mrs Maskel popped into my head this morning. Mrs Maskel, a fond, vivid memory as she folded a 20 pence piece in my hand after I’d soaked her in the front wash sink when I was a 15 year old Saturday girl at Linroy’s Hairdressers back in the 90s. Her spine wouldn’t allow her to lean backwards like most clients and I wasn’t great with the front wash. The flannel she held to her forehead sopping as her gown and cardigan were when she eventually staggered up. Yet this notoriously precise lady taught me humility. With 20p and the way her eyes thanked and forgave me as she closed my hand around it.
And my reconsidered option of the men that queued outside JJ Moons, Ruislip, after church on a Sunday meant that I had to admit that as an 18 year old, I did not know everything. That we are always learning. And so we should. Far from the ‘sad old men’ I had horridly judged them as, they all had their own stories. A special tankard, an appreciation for a wife at home preparing the dinner in peace; a ‘have one yourself’ encouraged with a shaky ridged & creased hand. A lingering look through watery once vivid blue eyes that tell a story painful and joyful all at once if you can hold the gaze. Arrogance melted with them into vague understanding.
A girl whose grades have slipped at A-Level has been flagged as a concern and I am asked what I am doing wrong as her English Teacher. Not knowing how close they had come to a violent end, that particular deputy head was informed that the student in question was about to undergo life changing surgery and their parents were getting divorced. I knew this because I cared to ask. Not judge both a teacher and a student by a blip in a graph. What did I learn then? Not only that I can impose self control, a skill that has come in handy since, but also that it’s the meat and bones that count, the very marrow and knowing, giving time to people, connecting. Not deciding a personality based on a handbag and fancy shoes or assuming knowledge and fault solely on a graph & data. It’s the observation of an expression that leads to a conversation that makes you understand and able to help and help effectively. A sloppy sentence but read it slowly. There’s something in it.
And this shall be my Strategic Marketing Approach – the one and only time I will use those words – to understand both my clients and myself. Because that’s the point, right? Understanding the story. Having the confidence to understand my own story, the lessons learned as a barmaid (a very good one, might I add), a Saturday girl at the hairdressers. A seemingly powerless teenage paper round girl who stole giant cola bottles to balance being underpaid by a treacherous shopkeeper. Or realising during a conversation with a student who excelled in everything but English Literature that his understanding of Jazz and ability to play it could help him to interpret what he felt was fractious unintelligible Shakespearean language. Our conversation about jazz, about language, about modern art brought clarity and synchronicity to each subject for both of us and remains one of my favourite reflective conversations.
And while these titbits (of which there are many more) may seem irrelevant, they are not. They are key. They are most recently adorned with the experience and growth I have acquired at Eventful. Eventful have their own story, one of elegance, patience, quiet yet profound expertise. And oh how I’ve grown within that brilliant company! My branches have truly flourished yet without cutting the head off the rose how does it grow next year? That is not to say the rose is dead. Gosh no. Eventful is thriving but I am at a stage where I feel I’m ready to branch out and they, generous, fair and grateful, have supported me in doing so. To consolidate, at 46 years old, every experience, every lesson and reach out into the rich foundational earth to create new depth to my story and autonomy in growth is the aim.
My clients, I will understand their stories and bring them exceptional experiences. While the writing, the wellness, the retreats I have and will continue to execute remain a story for another day and a separate door to walk through on my simple, no flying banners and easily navigable website… which will be ready soon.
If you’ve made it this far, perhaps you are a potential new client or industry friend then thank you. You have an understanding of where I am coming from. I assure you I no longer steal (except the odd dental kit at a hotel – they’re very handy for visitors and strictly speaking ‘part of the deal’). I am diligent, efficient, and detail driven event professional despite talk of roses, jazz and cola bottles, whose experience is as enhanced by the Mrs Maskels of this world as much as the multimillion pound company director who needs a 5* conference experience in a unique location for their global conference in three months!
And if this wordy honesty is not for you then fine. Perhaps you are not right for me? In writing as such, I may have instigated professional disaster. However, I’d counter that in telling you the story is transparent and telling. Our relationship is already different to most. You never know, we could learn from each other? Let’s at least have a no frills, honest conversation.
She went to Shanghai 