Lessons learnt and what I wore learning them.

This week, I learnt I like sober raves at 6.30am.  I learnt I’m great at making a chocolate cake, but not so much a carrot cake. I learnt I like networking evenings.  I learnt I get more tired the older I get and you just have to suck it up and box on. I learnt that eventually I have an off-switch that I need to hit sometimes and I learnt that no matter what, seeing anyone taking heroin or glue-sniffing makes me cry.  What’s this got to do with style? Not much, but I figured you may not mind.  If you do, then I’m sorry, I’ll tell you what I wore while I learnt these things, if that helps?

Let’s go back to Sunday.  It was to be a good day, pottering at home after a busy social weekend.  I always love the idea of being busy with friends and family, but the reality is, Sundays need to be restful in order for me to recharge for the week. Despite this, last Sunday, I tried to still pack in a little something something and it backfired.  I learnt (what I’ve always known, but have never fully acknowledged), that our kids like ‘activities’ and a day at home can drive them b-nanas.  Even after we paid a freaking fortune for a strip of grass to be laid (it was a bit more than that, but that’s not the point) and they can play football to their hearts content, they still say “there’s nothing to do”.

So off we went on an epic family walk to the local dog park – they went mountain biking, I kept my steps up.  The picture in my mind was Sound of Music, Swiss Family Robinson but the reality was more the Twilight Zone.  We got abuse for having no water or snacks, for walking too fast, for walking too slow, for walking at all, for taking the dog park route and not straight to the trails, for it starting to rain (it spat for 10 seconds), for it being too hot, too cold, for their helmets being itchy, too tight, too loose, too anything.  So by the time we got home, I was mainlining coffee to get through the rest of the day.  I then attempted a cake for a family party.  I should have stopped right there. I decided on carrot cake, cause I love cream cheese icing.  I had never made a carrot cake (without my mums help) before, so it wasn’t the smartest idea.  It took 20 minutes longer to cook than instructed, so I should have known by then that it was a goner.  I may have decided on putting my husband in charge for the final 10 minutes so I could take a power-nap.  That wasn’t my best idea.

Waking up from said power-nap, I found out that the carrot cake had burnt – really, in that final 10 minutes it decided to burst into flame?  The husband decided to help by taking the top of it off, which kind of worked if you had no cares in the world, but not for a birthday boy Grandad!  Anyhoo, I quickly made another cake, my go to chocolate cake I should have done in the first place.  It turned out great.  Except it was too hot to ice before we left for said family party.  On this day I wore double stripes from Zara and felt great.  Until I sat on my haunches to slice a piece of cheese at the party and the seam ripped a little on my calf.  Fark. So that day I learnt I should NOT leave the house on Sundays and that Zara pants have no give.

Right, onto Monday.  It was a good day, I think.  I can’t remember much, cause it’s already Thursday as I write this and I can’t remember that far back.  But I know what I wore – head to toe Zara again.  Bloody hell, is there a pattern brewing? There were stripes involved and a lace skirt.  I felt great. The day ended in a movie date night with the carrot cake killer, so that was nice. We saw Trainspotting 2, one of our favourites from the 90’s and I wanted to see how Renton, Sick Boy and Begby had fared in the last twenty years.  It was good, but I got sad, oh so sad at the heroin taking reminders.  I learnt, or was reminded of, how much needles and glue sniffing make me very sad and I feel quite depressed seeing it.  Plus, on Sunday, we’d seen a glue sniffer in a field by a gas station, walking around like a Zombie with a plastic bag stuck to his face and that had mad me even sadder.  It left me cold.

Onto Tuesday and still more Zara.  Really this is getting ridiculous.  I had on my new jeans and I learnt that I really really loved them. You want to know why?  Because they have a skort over the top – a strip of material pretending to be denim shorts and they cover all the bad bits and the camel toe threatening.  I fell in love at first sight. I wore them casually for the day and switched it up at night for another lesson learnt.  I like networking evenings. I attended a really cool one on Tuesday night and really really enjoyed it.  I once wrote a blog about networking and I followed my own advice, which you can check out here. I fancied up my jeans with leopard print and felt confident.  Thanks leopard print and skort jeans.

Then suddenly is was 6am on Wednesday. It was raining.  But I got out of bed at the 6am alarm and poured myself into some lycra (it was leopard print again).  I was about to experience my very first sober rave. I had very little expectations, other than a lingering question – would I feel like a dick dancing at 6.30am? Turns out no, I did not.  It was thoroughly enjoyable with just a coconut water on board and the feeling that by 8am I had nearly reached 10,000 steps.  So to celebrate I took the day off exercise the following day, which is probably defeating the success of the rave.  So I learnt I like sober raving in the morning.  Yesterday I wore Zara again – a gingham dress and the same green jacket from Monday night’s movie date.  Happy once again with the outfit.  It made me feel good and that’s great.

Today was my final day in the office for the week and come Friday I am all over the Sisterhood of Style like a spider monkey. Guess what I wore?  Zara.  Again. There was some Shine On, Glassons and Country Road thrown in but the gauzy, floaty dress, the best part of the outfit, was Zara.  Oh boy, this is getting interesting.  I hadn’t realised until I sat down to write, just how much Zara features in my wardrobe.  I’m really tired now, it’s 7.30pm and I’m threatening kids with all sorts to try and get them into bed to read.  It’s not working. But I think fondly of my outfit. It made me feel empowered and confident. Thanks outfit.

As I reflect on this week and all that is left of it, I am thrilled at it’s outcome, I am exhausted by it’s depth and I love that I tired to do something new everyday.  Don’t get me wrong, not everyday or every week is like that.  No, not at all.  Some days I am so overcome with tiredness and have no motivation and I flop on the couch and go to bed by 8.30pm.  But this week, it was full for the right reasons – reasons I chose to be busy with. I had no obligations, except ones that I had asked for and wanted and it feels like a good solid week just passed.  So I learnt I like being busy, I am best being busy, I do more, get more shit done when busy.  But I like my Sundays quiet, calm and hovering around home and I like wearing Zara.  A lot.

What does a good week look like for you?

Mmmmmwah, EJ, the mother of the Sisterhood. xo

If you would like to book a styling session, or want to chat about any style related queries, then drop EJ an email emma@sisterhoodofstyle.com she’d love to chat. 

 

Why you should agender-ise your sisterhood catch ups

I’m here to share with you why you should agender-ise your squad catch ups.  It’s a thing.  Well it wasn’t a thing, but now it is.

Sisters, time with your sisterhood, your besties, your squad is precious and often too short.  These precious moments are often so full of excitement at catching up, workshopping important and less important information and bantering back and forth, that you can leave feeling there was so much more to say.  Well I have a plan to help you on that.

Now, “just back the truck up” I hear you say, you want me to what?  Yes, I said it, I want you to put an agenda on the table and work through it systematically or erratically, whatever rocks your boat when you next meet up with your sisterhood/squad/friends/besties.  You’ll leave with a sense of calm that everyone has put their cards on the table and got their turn to offload/share/bitch/moan/vent/celebrate.

I’m finding the older I get (I still feel 27, but have a few more wrinkles, rolls and kids than I did back then), that time with my friends is sacred and I want to wring the most out of the time I have with them as possible.  There is so much that can’t be said via text and short phone calls, so I tend to “save” stuff up, but by the time we catch up, the moment’s been and gone, I’ve workshopped the issue myself or I’ve just plain forgotten.

And then in the space of one week, I was lucky enough to have two girly catch ups booked in and would you believe, both sets of friends put an agenda on the table.  At my heart, I’m an organiser, I do it for a living wrangling clients in my day job and make shit happen in my #mumboss biz, so you can imagine I was giddy with delight that agendas had been set.  Both were different versions but both have their merits, so it got me thinking that this blog is all about the sisterhood and I should share some life-hacks that I love with you.  So here’s how they went:

1. Agenda One: “Bring your top 3 to discuss, everything else is a free for all”.  This agenda had a fluidness to it, a liberal dose of letting the cards fall where they lay but it set an expectation that you’d get your turn, you have important things to discuss and it will happen, but shit might change and that’s cool.
2. Agenda Two: Rough agenda for Thursday: School fair,  renovation bitch and moan, husbands, kids, body yarns – what the fuck is happening to us?, building each other up – we are amazing after all and AOB (any other business).

To be fair, Agenda number two lingered on AOB for most of the night as there were some big fat rocks in there to jump over, but we got through the rest in a flash, because we remembered to keep referring back to the agenda.  Everyone left feeling lighter than when they walked in, having had the chance to offload.

Now before you get your knickers in a twist with me, thinking I am being some sort of lifestyle expert, I promise, I’m not, I just want to help the sisterhood out with a way to make life simpler, easier, more fun and calming.  Who doesn’t need that?

What do you think?  Let me know if you use the idea at your next sisterhood catchup.  It’s one big karmic cathartic love bomb of an idea.  Well I think so anyway 🙂  Happy life-hack.

Mmmmmwah, EJ, the mother of the sisterhood.  x0x0

 

The school mum catwalk in the age of the “super-mum”.

It’s a thing, I know it is, the school mum catwalk.  Well, it’s not really a thing but it is maybe kind of, a minor thing. Sort of, maybe a little bit. I dunno, but I get the feeling it is. Hear me out.

Mamma’s, put your hand up if you feel that pressure, that need to conform, out perform, do better, do more, say more, act smarter, be more, as a mamma at the school gate, on the sports ground, in the mall, at the cafe, at work, on your Instagram and Facebook feeds?  If you haven’t got your hand up, then big props to you, I love that you own your confidence and don’t bend to pressure.  But sometimes mammas, it’s hard right?

But I get that there is a need to please in mammas and we aren’t always kind to ourselves and sometimes, just a little bit, not kind to others. This blog started out being about what to wear on the school drop off.  It was a tongue in cheek look at the working mum and the SAHM (that’s stay at home mum) catwalk that presents itself every morning at my school. There isn’t really one, but it’s amusing to think there could be.  I’ve even had a few remarks on my strut into the school.  I swear I don’t strut, but there’s something about wearing heels that makes me “stride”, for sure. But I’m digressing.  I wanted to share my thoughts on why the motherhood sisterhood need to keep being awesome and working together, because the tribe of mothers I know are freaking awesome and beautiful and helpful and always ready to lend a hand.  Working/non working, it don’t matter.  There is no competition.  Except, I think maybe there is.

There is a competition within us and we only feel validated by hearing that others are in the same boat.  For me, well I constantly press like and share on the “scary mommy” posts I follow on Facebook.  I love Constance Hall and I dig a Kiwi writer call Emily Writes, because they all speak from the heart and talk of the ridiculousness and hardship and joy of motherhood.  I like that.  I like feel a part of a bigger community, that we are all in the trenches together and it sucks sometimes, it’s joyful more than sometimes and we’re in it for the long-haul.

It’s like when you have your first baby and you realise that you’ve just joined the biggest club in the world and the entry fee was a baby.  My world just opened up and aaaaaaalllll the mothering-ness came at me like a spider monkey.  My best friend and I laughingly started a cake competition on ourselves, without really knowing it, trying to out do our own cakes (not each others), year on year.  We lovingly supported each other at every party, with a “what a great cake” shout out as the candles got spat on, knowing we had been up until midnight the night before, icing and decorating that sucker, now that’s #solidarity.

But it’s like that with style and why I started Sisterhood.  I wanted to make other women feel as good about their own confidence in style as I did about the motherhood sisterhood that wrapped itself around me after the birth of the kids and when we joined the school community.

What I’m trying to say is, while there maybe a small faction of women that play in the muddy sandpit of spite, the sisterhood I am privileged to know, are freaking awesome women who lend a hand when needed and when it’s not asked for, get shit done and are completely awesome, they also rock a mean style game.  Whether that be in trainers and active wear or a kick arse power dress. Boom, mothers rock.

Have you got an awesome sisterhood of the motherhood story to share?  I’d love to hear it.

Mmmmwah, EJ, Mother Superior to the Sisterhood of Style xoxo

 

 

 

What to wear on your first day of work

I’m starting a new job on Monday.  I’ll be the new kid on the block, at 42, that’s no mean feat.  I’ll be making friendly chit-chat and skulk out on my own at lunchtime.  I’ll have to ask where the loo is, how to make the coffee, what the kitchen etiquette is and how soon can I bring in my dog.  Yes sisters, you heard it here first, it’s a dog friendly workplace. Winning.

But I know that all of that will be a whisper in the wind by the end of the week, once I’ve worked with these awesome new people for a few days and I get the hang of the place.

What I am becoming super preoccupied with though, is what the hell do I wear?  It’s not a corporate, but I’ll be working with corporate clients, it’s not a big company, but I’ll be working with big companies.  It’s not shorts and jandles and it’s not suit and tie.  It’s the…..dum duh num dum……the inbetween.  Aggggggh (think 1950’s screen siren scream here).

Is anyone else like me and on their first day of school, a new job or a wedding and you absolutely have to purchase a new outfit?  Or is that just me?  Well, it is me, I have to own that.

So, I have a pair of Zara nautical styled (more on that style theme in another blog post soon) trousers I purchased in Sydney recently, that I haven’t worn.  I am having them taken up right now, cause I’d look like Groucho Marx if I didn’t.  But that’s as far as I’ve got.  Bugger.

I don’t want to go full nautical, corporate or too casual.  I am in a quandary.  My old clothes from corporate-ville are maybe a little too tired, but I only need a top,  now I have bottom half sorted.  So it’s a top, oh and some shoes.  I got my nails done last week by Pop Nails and they are fab-u-lous.  So that leaves me needing just a top and shoes, maybe some earrings.  Oh shit. Ok, breathe.

So, work with me sisters,  maybe I suck it up, wear a top I already have and then add some cool shoes.  Wanna know the shoes I’m trying to decide between?  You do? Ok, check these puppies out from Gorman and then these gorgeous ones from Kathryn Wilson.  Swoon much? But I can’t have both.  I have also been coveting these ones from Augustine, but they frustratingly sold out over the weekend.  I need to up my game, as I keep spying things I love and missing out by waiting too long.  Anyhoo, I digress.

What’s really exciting about starting a new job at this particular place and in an advertising and marketing environment means I can wear a T-shirt to work and it not be a major faux pas.  Call me crazy, but that is just beyond amazing.  I’m not talking simple T-Shirt and no bling.  I’m talking blinging that sucker out with a necklace and jacket and some mules and some other stuff and things, but just the mere thought of wearing the T-Shirt, with adornment, has got me all hot under the collar.  It probably means I should make more of an effort to find that elusive perfect white T  that I’ve been hunting for then shouldn’t I.

So wish me luck sisters, the ideas could all change tomorrow, but I reckon I am pretty darn excited for what I have in store for me in this new role.  I can’t wait to learn new stuff, meet new people and get some serious shit done.  I am chomping at the bit.  It’ll make for some exciting satorial adventures again too.

If you want to see the whole look come together, make sure you follow me on instagram @sisterhoodofstylenz and check out my Monday morning post.

And sisters, remember, if you need help styling YOUR first day of work at a new job, contact me today to book a styling session,  I would love to work wtih you.  Email me at emma@sisterhoodofstyle.com today.

Mmmmmwah, love EJ, the mother of the sisterhood of style xo

Hi, my name is Emma and I don’t like small talk.

I popped my cherry for the Sisterhood last night.

Get your mind out of the gutters sisters from other misters,  I popped my biz networking cherry to be exact. Part of starting your own business is about networking, meeting new people, influencing others on your business and trying to figure out how to make sense of this crazy thing called entrepreneurship.  I was bricking myself. I even shot to the toilet as I arrived to calm my nerves. I gave myself a stern talking too and got my big girl panties on and headed out into the unknown and into a sea of chattering networking women biz owners.

For those that know me, I don’t have a problem with talking to people.  I was known as gabby-jaws by my pseudo godfather (my real godfather was an absentee reverend who fell off the wagon) but I digress. In fact I freaking love talking to people.  I love people, I love what they have to say, I try to be curious about them and I generally walk into parties feeling very confident in myself, knowing I won’t have a problem finding someone to talk to.  This is because a party is likely to be for someone I know, a friend.  I have connections with those friends, they know me, know I am no wallflower, know I love a wine or three like to spin a good yarn. We cut through the small talk years ago, we just shoot the shit, straight from the start of the night.

But networking, that’s different, that’s hard that requires small talk and me explaining what I do.  That makes my tummy do flip-flops and my teeth freeze in my mouth, with a demented smile plastered to my face.

Even though I’ve worked for years where networking was an important part of what we do, this was different, I was flying solo.  You see what I did there, I said “we”. Because 100% of the time that I have ever networked, it’s been about what we do, about a business I work for, a project I am working on.  This time was hugely different, it was about Sisterhood of Style and no one else can talk about it like I can – and that’s so scary I felt a little bit sicky uppy.

But you know what sisters, as soon as I grabbed my drink (non-alcoholic) a gorgeous sister come straight up to me and introduce herself – thank you Fiona Hall.  She had recognised me from Facebook and Instagram and immediately put me at ease.  Then I felt my nerves slide slowly away and anyone I mentioned my nerves too, they all nodded in agreement with me, imparting their own cherry popping moment for networking or how they like to handle it.  One very sisterhood-loving difference about a women’s networking event – you hug hello – heart to heart.  That’s fucking cool. You don’t get that at a male dominated network night.

So I thought some of you sisters may be feeling the same way about networking and I could help with some tips I learnt tonight. I’ve also included some gems that I learnt from the speakers, who were kick-arse awesome and who each spoke on purpose and perseverance, timely given I was struggling to persevere with networking.

This story has a good ending, a great ending.  I sucked up my scardy-cat and gave myself a good talking too.  I mixed and mingled and started to hand out my newly minted business cards.  Women asked me what I did, we hugged, we were introduced to new people, we laughed, we agreed to meet up and possibly even collaborate (that got my creative juices flowing) and I left at 11pm freaking happy, so buzzed I couldn’t sleep, so I sat up and wrote this.  I hope your next networking is as successful, try my tips & tricks below to help you. If you’ve got any advice on networking, the sisterhood would love to hear it, please share.

SISTERHOOD OF STYLE NETWORKING CHERRY POPPING TIPS

Tip 1: Don’t drink.  Despite loving seeing a glass of wine waiting for me at an event, I appreciated that I didn’t drink. A large group of women in a room have a an incredible energy (and noise) and don’t need alcohol (sometimes we do) to fuel it.  Without the booze (it was a dry event) I had no dutch courage, I just had me and that ended up being ok.

Tip 2: Force yourself, whatever you do, to introduce yourself to someone you don’t know.   I was a bit giddy to meet a lot of women I’ve only known via social media and coaching groups I am in.  So to meet them in person, to realise that some of them knew of Sisterhood of Style, was incredible and mind-blowing and just bloody awesome.  But I wouldn’t have found that out, unless I had forced myself to be brave in the first place and buy a ticket to the event and then say hello to strangers.

Tip 3: I can’t let a tip and trick slip by without sharing my style advice.  Wear something that makes you feel fantastic.  Don’t wear anything that you need to pull, push or alter during the evening.  Wear colour.  Stand out if you can.  Women appreciate good style, they know when they see it.  You are in a room of like-minded business women, all putting their best selves forward, you should too.  Wear something that someone will comment on – its a great icebreaker.  I fell in love with a million pairs of shoes at the event and spoke to the women wearing them, telling them so.

Snippets of kick-arse awesome advice from the speakers:

JFDI – Just fucking do it – Belinda Tuki from Honest Food Company

Shed your shit and shine – Dr Martha Nessler

Life is about stepping stones and stopping points – Dr Martha Nessler

Set a bold money goal – Catherine Newton 

You can’t unlearn that – Amanda Betts from Bridge the Gap 

I don’t want to be famous, I want to change the world  – Natalie Cutler Welsh from Go to Girl NZ and the event host

Mmmmmmwah,

EJ  xx  The mother of the Sisterhood.

 

This is the outfit I wore to the event.