Big deal back then

Someone from my current workplace was leaving yesterday – she’s heading off to work in magazines.

I smiled brightly and wished her all the best while secretly thinking “good luck with that”.

Magazines are a tough gig these days.

My boss told the leaving person that I used to work in magazines – many, many moons ago – and the leaving person politely asked which ones.

Woman’s Day, Cosmopolitan and Singapore Cleo were my most exciting mastheads. She noted that Woman’s Day was still around, but was mostly unmoved by my magazine pedigree.

Times have changed since 2002 when I called my mum and grandmother to tell them I’d been appointed as Editor of Woman’s Day. They were beside themselves with excitement – Woman’s Day was a big deal back then.

I don’t think it has much resonance for the Gen Z and Millennial crowd.

But way back in the 2000s weekly magazines were having a second wind, after a slump following the glory years of Ita Buttrose and Nene King. Sales were reignited by heavily rotated tales about Princess Mary, Jennifer Aniston and Bec Hewitt.

Working life was pretty fancy at the headquarters of ACP Magazines. There was a wood paneled dining room with a waiter and chef, where advertising clients were regularly wined and dined. In the basement was a glamorous gym and beauty salon, which did a roaring trade in blow dries and spray tans for staff before they swanned off to functions in their designer stilettos.

Budgets were big and so were the teams spending them, with sub-editors, lifestyle teams, artists and photo editors galore.

My office had views to South Head and was so enormous it had a meeting table for 12 people. I even had a PA. Oh, how I loved having a PA … and not just because she ran interference so I didn’t have to speak to anyone. Di was the best! She lives in Spain these days and I miss her a lot.

Now staffing is skeletal compared to those glory days and I mainly hear stories about retrenchments rather than new hirings. Most of my former colleagues have gone. I see their names pop up occasionally in bylines and run across some through PR channels.

I stay in touch with a few, but not many.

I lead a life now that’s less about who you know and more about who you love.

Although, oddly, faces from the past have been popping up in my current line of work. My nephew’s stepmother is my boss and I recently organised a photo shoot starring my ex-sister-in-law. I also frequently find myself saying things like “she used to work for me” and “I was her deputy editor” and “Tanya Plibersek came to my place for dinner once but it was the wrong night and I was in my pyjamas” and “that Australia Day ambassador used to be my doctor”.

The world is remarkably small, but I reckon I wouldn’t mind it being even smaller. I love meeting neighbours in the streets around my apartment or DD’s place and having a chat. That sense of community is something that appeals much more to me as I get older.

But amazing times were had during my magazine journey – along with the harrowing ones – and the main photo for today’s blog post is a snapshot of that … it’s DD’s favourite retro pic of me, decked out in designer gear with fancy hair and make-up, standing beside the epicenter of my destruction.

Song of the day: Gotye “Somebody that I used to know”