Tomorrow could be boring

Chemicals and mind-crushes

Isn't the picture Grant drew adorable? It makes more sense if you read my new column at Basenotes. This is the second in the series, entitled "A Very English Problem".

I've also got a new mind-crush in the form of Dara O'Briain. His rant about homeopathy and nutritionists is brilliant. Best quote: "Science knows it doesn't know everything or it would have stopped."

I brought back a toxic book from the library: "Toxic Beauty: How Hidden Chemicals in Cosmetics Harm You." It's written by a Reiki-healer who is convinced she knows what she's talking about, a bit like an astrologer might be convinced she knows better about heavenly bodies after talking to some people at NASA. I would despair, but luckily I've built up some resistance to this by now and my own chemistry studies are adding a whole new backbone to the way I view these scare-mongering messages nowadays. Once I finish my course I should really focus on the book I've been researching for the past few years and get it out there. It's time people stopped worrying about insignificant things and started worrying about stuff that could cause real harm instead. To themselves, to the environment and ultimately to the existence of human life itself. Trust me, whether we ingest a bit of lipstick isn't on that list.

Study Notes - a column about perfume studies

Basenotes, the family-owned and run perfume shrine with over 13.000 listed fragrances, industry news and a lively community has a new columnist. I'm hoping to make it a monthly series about being an adult distance-learner of perfumery and a trainee perfumer. For those of you who have been wondering who I work for, wonder no longer. The article contains the answer.

I still can't quite believe any of this is happening. It has been a bizarre journey. And this is only the beginning! I might still manage to somehow spectacularly cock it up. That'd make entertaining reading, but please cross your fingers for more of a positive outcome.

(Illustration by Grant Osborne)

I refuse to choose

The only thing I would change about how my world works is time. It's such a linear bugger; limited and irritating concept. Nevertheless, it's slightly less of a problem now I've worked out how to seemingly squeeze more out of it than most people. (Granted, this ability comes at some costs).

I want to challenge some assumptions. "People tend to be either good at art or science". I call bullshit. I want to be good at both. I'm still traumatised by my school-experiences of maths*, but I am now getting excited about mathematics, statistics, chemistry and science in general. Today I realised that I've already done two of the named courses for an analytical sciences foundation degree. I was looking for the timetable for the next course from the Open University. Not sure if I will be able to fit it in until I finish the IFEAT perfumery diploma, so it'll take a little while until I register. I have also earmarked OpenLearn for brushing up on study skills and for other useful bite-sized courses.

"One is either feminine or successful in business/work". Rubbish. You don't have to sweat testosterone to make your mark.

Someone (an area manager for a retail chain) once said to me: "Wow, you actually have a brain in that pretty little head of yours." Yes, I hope so. Thank you for the compliment (you cow). One can be considered attractive AND smart. Why do people assume intelligence has anything to do with looks, either way? Rhetorical question. Ironic, considering that my self-esteem is a bit wobbly in the looks-department. My mother was trying to toughen me up by calling me fat and various other things when I was growing up. Bless. She meant well, but it was a bit of a crap strategy.

When I was starting out as a make-up artist, my first agency appointment went like this: "You have both fashion and theatre in your portfolio. You have to pick one or the other; you can't do both." I told her that I liked working in both. Why should I limit myself? I didn't pursue agents after that and just went pure freelance. Since the make-up artist job, I worked for a fragrance distributor, for a software developer and in retail. Now, years later, I've finally found an organisation in which I've been able to (first tentatively and lately at full force) unleash my full Scanner-nature. It feels like unfurling scrunched-up parts of your body that you knew were there, but had gone numb. I've been allowed to - and even encouraged to - work in a way that suits me perfectly. I've been doggedly and persistently pursuing self-study "outside work" to enable some of this (outside work in quotation marks because that's an artificial concept for me. A few years ago I realised that I should stop even trying to separate work-head and me-head. I need to allow myself to get absorbed and work across all concepts, personal or professional in a mind-map-like way. Time and clockwatching doesn't come into it).

At first, yes, there were some questions: "...yes, but that's not a job description - which department would you like to work under?" Luckily they didn't last long. I suppose I had to take some risks, but in the end I am so glad I did - by showing that I could work cross-departments on various projects at the same time. I'm now so happy at work and with how things are going that the old "yikes, what's going to go wrong now?" -nerves are here. This is so great that every day I pause at some point simply to marvel. (Marvel is such a ridiculous word, but it's the only one that seemed just right. Perhaps I also wish to convey exactly how ridiculous this all still seems. I can't believe my luck and I'm nervous that I will now go a head and mess it up somehow. I've still got to learn how to stop worrying).

Meanwhile, I have just drawn up one of my re-focus plans. This time it's a mind-map with a stick figure-me in the middle with lines and boxes coming off it. I may have mentioned various planning tools before, but for as long as I can remember, I've periodically taken stock of where I am and what I am focusing on. Usually once a year, but sometimes more often. Turns out that under the "Strengths Finder" method of trying to fit us into some kind of classification system, one of my dominant strengths is "focus". (The others are "strategic", "ideation" and "activator").

There is a fair amount of writing on that focus page, quite a few projects, goals and categories, but it seems manageable. What Barbara's book "What do I do when I want to do everything?" helped me realise is that I don't have to choose, but that I needed to develop ways in which to focus on one thing at a time, then swivel the wheel of interests and activities 'round like a revolving spice rack and pick up the next flavour, focus on that for a while, rinse and repeat. Simple, but brilliant. When it works, you feel as if everyone else is scuttling around at normal speed and your time has just gone into Hollywood blockbuster slow-mo. They run the rat race; you do your thing... and another thing...and another...

*Being repeatedly humiliated in front of the class, called a fat cannonball, and having things thrown at you by your teacher tends to do that.

Biggest Muppet Fangirl

In the first company conference I attended after joining, I was asked to do a presentation to everyone (about, oh, 200 people & all the company founders) about what it meant to work for them. Struggling for ways in which to put my feelings to words, I drew a Kermit on the flip chart and said: Well, this place; everyone here - it's like the Muppet Show.

(Laughter. Confused looks).

I continued by explaining that there seemed to be a myriad of colourful, big personalities in the room with a bunch of different talents. And that the company was a big variety show with a great leader at the helm.

Mark (figurehead of company, co-founder, co-owner): "So, are you calling me a Muppet?"

(Silence).

Me: "Well, yes. But coming from me, that's a big compliment!"

(Everyone is holding their breath).

Mark: "Oh, I quite like being compared to Kermit. At least you didn't say Napoleon."

(Relieved laughter).

TRUE STORY.

Packing books

We have well over a 1000 books squished into a studio. We need to put them into storage so that normal people can come and view this flat. For us, living in a tiny library has been good. For most people, this flat would have seemed rather full up. Granted, we do now want to move (and no doubt we will fill up the new place with even more books), but the move has more to do with wanting a good location for us to settle down in and for both of us to be able to commute from.

These are the boxes so far. There is a second row behind these that's not visible. The stack was a bit taller to start off with, but Timo re-organised them after they fell on me whilst I was sleeping.

Speaking of commuting, I have some news. My new-new job is starting tomorrow. I'll need to be closer to the coast and so really can't wait to move. It'll be more overnight stays until then. I can't quite yet begin to believe what's happening. The current company I work for is one of the few in the whole world who do all their own product scents and fine fragrances in-house and buy their own materials. I'm very lucky to even work for them, much less be in the situation I am.

My job has involved bits and bobs in the lab; nothing too official, some experiments, some collaborative work here and there, that sort of thing. They have always known that I'm like an eager little puppy wanting to learn more, but I've also always known that I am one of many others who would like a slice of their time. I've made it very clear that my aim was (and is) to learn about perfumery and cosmetic science; I started self-study before I joined this company and have taken steps to brush up on my basic science skills (all the Open University stuff I've been doing). I was determined to find some way of getting diplomas or other qualifications - there are various courses available - but nothing beats practical experience and being taught by gurus in the industry. So it's been a case of hoping for the best and expecting nothing.

I've now officially become a Trainee Perfumer. The IFEAT Diploma course I've been so wanting to do starts soon (amazing) and I'll be doing lots of basic work at our factory and lab, learning the ropes and helping out where I can. I'll carry on doing a few other things too.

Yes, I've worked in the cosmetics industry for 20 years, so yes, for many people I know this latest development is probably a "duh". But it seems like a very big deal to me. From my novice experiments in this very flat (in 2005) to here has been an incredible journey.

Trains, planes and moral choices

Unless you live in a cave cut away from any kind of media (self-sufficiently, perhaps? Well, now that would be lovely) - you must know that travelling by train is the morally correct choice these days. Planes? Definitely not acceptable, at least not for domestic journeys. Automobiles? Hmm, if you drive a hybrid, or a Smart like I do is it a bit like greenwash? Is it really much better to do slightly less harm than regular cars? Aren't you adding to the grand total anyway?

I'm trying to be reasonable and make compromises.

I've never been big on flying all over the globe anyway, so that's fine. The trips I've taken have mostly been work-related and faraway holiday destinations or frivolous weekend trips to Europe using cheap flights have never attracted me. Check.

Driving - well, I've only been driving for a few years out of my life; I got my UK license and the Smart about 5 years ago. It was at a time when I was feeling extremely stressed and burnt out so having the independence was important. Nowadays I really try to think about the trips I make (almost all of them work-related) - should I drive or take the train?

Some longer-distance journeys really feel easier by train versus the car: you can settle down for a good while and work on your laptop or read a book. I travel a fair bit for work and do tend to take the train most of the time. It just makes sense.

And then some trips make you want to scream in frustration and never take another train journey ever again. Like the one I had yesterday.

A simple enough proposition - 2 hours one way with 2 changes. Not too terrible, right? Except that due to some incompetent advice and one train cancellation, the journey turned into 4 hours and 4 changes. I was frozen into a solid flesh-ickle by the time I fell out of the train that had carried me on the last leg of the journey. And thanked my earlier self for having driven to the train station so I didn't have to walk 20 minutes in the cold to finally get home.

I want the futuristic criss-crossing overground bullet-train networks, or cool, magically unpolluting hover-cars, or teleportation, please.

Why have we all been so slow to adopt new ways of conducting business? Some individuals and organisations have embraced video conferencing and systems that allow remote communication and distance leadership. Maybe we need to make all modes of (polluting) transport so excruciatingly uncomfortable that we'll only use them when absolutely necessary.

Things and how to use them, part 1*

I used to really love writing lists. Then I wrote so many of them about so many things that they started to feel strangulating. And the tool became the point. Luckily, I was able to go on a Time Manager International course (I don't work for them, no, really, I actually found a corporate-sounding course genuinely helpful) and decided to have a go at NOT writing lists (and using their methods instead). So I stopped writing lists for a bit.

When I say I used to write lists, I'm not sure if the extent to which this habit had been ingrained into every aspect of my life is clear from the deceptively simple word "list".

The course tutor didn't know how to arrange his face when I explained the system I had developed to cope with my juggling. (I really like having a variety of things on the go at once, but I do have an upper limit to how many plates I can spin. The older I get the better I get at noticing when I'm reaching that limit before I drop any plates).

The system went like this: Normal Word document with a 3-column (multi-row) table. Each type of task was categorised a little bit like one might categorise blog topics: "homelife", "reading list", "health & fitness", "project name blahblah", "project..." etc. Each of these categories had its own colour. I had matching colour set in mini pens too; so any notes I made after I'd printed the current list could be made in the same colour.

The columns were: TASK (written in the appropriate colour, so I'd know by just looking at it whether it was work-stuff, my own stuff or other stuff), STARTED and FINISHED.

I would update the list about once a month. I'd print it off for the rest of the time and update things by hand (here's where the coloured pens became relevant) as I went along, so I always knew where I was with everything.

Obviously I still used a diary too, plus I had a year-planner where I could see at a glance what was going on.

What made that quite good is that it minimised post-it-notes and separate bits of paper. What made it quite clumsy is that updating it on my computer took too much time and it wasn't that easy to update on the go (despite the coloured pens). Plus, by the time I really started juggling (i.e., I started my current job and became even more of a plate-spinner), the list would get several pages long and it was beginning to seem like a millstone rather than a helpful tool.

Then there was the annual list. Now this, I'd been doing for years, at least for 10 years if not more - and it consists of just a simple A4 typed list of all the boxes I want to tick that year. It would include things like "finish X course" or "read X book" or "change address at X" and bigger things too; goals that might transfer from one year to the next.

I could also talk about cataloguing because it relates, but that's another topic. I have a feeling that all geeks like cataloguing things (and it's a really slippery slope - once you've catalogued your current reading list & written cute little book reviews for everything you read, then what's to stop you from cataloguing your entire book collection, or CDs or...).

Anyway, so after the Time Manager course, I put my lists to one side and really tried to survive without them. In the beginning I found it quite difficult, but not impossible. In fact, I had been expecting the transition to be harder. It would have been, but the new style of organiser was awesome - and completely suited to the whole plate-spinning way of life (working parents might enjoy this, or anyone running their own business, or working freelance on multiple projects): each main area of your life/work has its own numbered category. Each category has its own segment at the back of the organiser and what makes this superior to my list system is that you can react immediately if some new info becomes available. You can just put it in the right section - and the next time you are dealing with that topic/person/project, you just open at the right section and ta-dah, you pick up where you left off last time. No more trying to hold too much stuff in your head, or finding where you wrote that important bit of information.

It also has sections for "ideas" and "notes", which is lovely for those yet-to-be-categorised things on the run. The diary segments are awesome too; much more room to schedule your days and weeks than in any other organiser I've seen.

The downside? It's HUGE (I needed the larger size to fit everything in). But - you can just remove relevant bits (mini diary which is detachable & notepad) & take them with you on trips or to meetings. Though that then puts you back into the whole updating in one big chunk, rather than on the move. Still; small price to pay for the awesome tool. I now really rely on this and it almost feels like a Personal Assistant.

I've thought about electronic personal organisers, but so far, none have grabbed me. I also really hate the inability to "leaf through" stuff in a natural papery way. There is something necessary about paper in these for me.

The Annual List has stuck with me. I thought about what I was using it for and realised that it was still serving a purpose. It's a nice, reassuring, focusing, self-motivating, anti-flapping tool I will probably continue to use forever. I just tore up the 2008 list (only 4 things on it I didn't tick off; pretty good) and wrote up the 2009 list. The biggest item on the 2009 list is "Sell property/buy property/move house?". That's the aim, but who the hell knows what's going to happen. Luckily there are lots of other things on there that I can get done. The moving house thing might be a bit more complicated.

So now I'm friends with lists again, but in a new way. Our relationship has been re-defined. So far so good. And luckily, there's always Facebook and its list-writing-bandwagon for when I get cravings.

* This in no way implies there will be future parts to this series, though there may be, depending on circumstances and availability of loose thoughts in need of a home

I want my Miss Piggy Powder Compact right NOW! Hay-ah!

Perhaps it's a desire to be forever childlike and cute like the Japanese girls, or an attempt at denial over one's own age - or maybe just a simple nostalgia marketing trick - but it seems that various unlikely characters have been appearing on beauty compacts for a little while now.

Can't say who was the absolute trend-setter, but Paul & Joe's Disney make-up range must have been one of the first of the recent batch. Bambi face powder or, what is that, a tube of dog shampoo? No, it seems to be a hand cream. The star of the range surely has to be the skunk powder. You too can smell this good!

I've seen it sold in Harrods here in UK if you absolutely must get hold of some.

Recently, I spotted that the quirky make-up range Too Faced has decided to become super Smurfy - the blue characters have been chosen as the theme for a new make-up range. The creator of the range, Jerrod Blandino, is convinced that "Smurfette was the 'it' girl of the 80s generation". Yes. We were jealous until we went blue in the face.

MAC is also up to something - I've read that they will be launching a Hello Kitty line this spring. That seems suitably cute and appropriate, but their current special collection might raise a few more eyebrows. Would you consider Dame Edna your style icon? Not to say that the way in which her looks are applied is sloppy (she always looks excellent on stage), but the look is intended to be a send-up of an over-done drag-queen. And it fits the bill very well. I suppose MAC is a range with colours and textures fit for theatrical as well as everyday looks and maybe launching a Dame Edna range is in some ways a nod towards MAC's make-up artist roots. Since the Estee Lauder aquisition, we've had more "seasonal looks" and the sort of fluff you usually associate with a mainstream brand - not to mention MAC perfumes, which clearly indicate Lauder Group meddling (same happened to Bobbi Brown after they were bought by the Lauder Group - all of a sudden there was a perfume launch).

So with Dame Edna eyeshadows and lipsticks, MAC can teach us all how to send up your own customers, or if you prefer this interpretation, to pay homage to its own beginnings as a professional make-up line. Or if you think like me, you'll applaud them for doing something that gets all of us writing about them.

What I really would like to see now is a Muppet Make-Up range. Are you listening out there? You could have Animal deodorant (it brings out the animal in you), Gonzo concealer (hide your little beauty flaws) and a Miss Piggy Powder Compact (you too can be like the most glamorous pig in showbiz). Come on! It's not such a leap. There was even a Miss Piggy's Guide To Life back in the day.

More bubbles

My first product is in the shops. Specifically: the product idea I came up with, helped develop (both conceptually and as a fragrance) is now out worldwide. Customer feedback has been encouraging. So far, nobody (openly) hates it. So far, many people like it.

It feels very strange to have something that you've dreamed up - out in so many homes. People will walk around smelling of something I had a part in creating.

I hope so very, very much that this is first of many. I'm going to carry on as if that were the case. You never get anywhere by simply hoping, now do you?

(P.S. If you want to know how this all started, read some of the story from "Why I think I'm a nose").

The art of business travel, part 2

Things have improved since I last wrote about business travel. I bought a cheap, but adequate bag, which looks like a rucksack on wheels. It has several exterior pockets and if I pack it well, it conforms to the airline regulations for onboard luggage.

Now I could even take a trip via Terminal 5!

That wasn't a wish. (Just in case).

Necessity is an excellent teacher. I accepted that my new role would involve a fair amount of travel. It's something I have done extensively before and didn't expect to get back into. This time was different; this work feels different and my motivation for completing it is strong enough to override many of the elements that I found simply too irritating before. On the other hand again, I'm never going to jump for joy at the site of a throng of people pushing each other to a sweaty cluster in front of the metal gates closed temporarily at the entrance to the Underground at Victoria mainline station. But then again, who would?

There was an angry granny sat next to me on the train back from Newcastle. She sat on her reserved window seat and made odd little comments at me for a part of the journey; then disappeared to the restaurant coach and never returned. She seemed to want both seats to herself. I know the feeling, but it's one of those "can't be helped" kinda things about crowded trains.

Train stations up North smell of pies and coal tar. The women wear short skirts and high heels. Occasionally, a whiff of perfume - sometimes even pleasant or expensive - wafts along with them. You have to be in a big town to get a "decent" (read: brand) coffee kiosk; Costa, Starbucks and Nero are not in charge here.

Train stations in London smell of bitter coffee, damp fabric, exhaust fumes, stale sweat, piss and vomit, old booze, newspapers, cheap deodorant and celebrity fragrances. The women wear flat shoes and trainers, tunics-over-leggings, or trouser suits. Occasionally, a herd of Chavs gallops past, muffin-tops and gold hoops wobbling merrily as they go.

But I digress!

Although I now go to many more locations, much more frequently than perhaps ever before, my stays are always fairly short. Enter the rucksack-on-wheels - it comfortably holds my toiletries, change of clothes, laptop, chargers and even the mug and teabags. I've got bags-within-bags ready packed with the essentials and a different folder per department I work for. That means preparing for travel has become much easier. I just throw in the pre-packed sets of stuff and zoom off. I also forced myself to really think through how much I felt I "had to" take with me and I've managed to really cut down on needless weight off the luggage. Toiletries and make-up have to be small or multifunctional (or both). Clothes have to be the roll-up kind. So far so good!

On geeks, categorising and marketing

"The more I think about it, the more geeky I realise I am," I said to Timo today. Having just returned from Eastercon, it's no wonder I've not floated down to "somewhat normal"  yet.

"What, you're surprised by that?" Timo replied.

"No, what I mean is that there are a few things I'd always taken to be my little quirks, which I now realise are traits shared with many others. This sounds so naive, but I really didn't think that there'd be so many people for whom having complete sets of things, or having such sets categorised and organised in some specific way would be as important."

I'm not a collector; not exactly. There are very narrow areas in which I'd say it's important to have the set for its own sake. Mostly that happens to me with books.

Today, whilst dusting the shelves (and looking for Timo's copy of Coraline, which Neil Gaiman's comments during the Darker than Potter panel made me want to read), I spotted a pattern.

The book series for non-SF/Fantasy fiction, say, by a Finnish crime publishing house, are uniform in colour and typeface, but don't have numbers on the spines. Same goes for "modern classics" and, upon further inspection, all other mainstream fiction series we have knocking around. Hmm.

Whereas - most of the SF/Fantasy book series are numbered. Even "...best new SF" uses this device, even though it might have made sense to print the actual year for which these are meant to be the "best" collections for. Instead they've sequenced using numbers. And the numbers are big on the spine too; it'll be really obvious if you've missed one.

I wonder if this is a deliberate attempt by marketing departments to tap into the geeky tendencies of the target audience for these books. If it is, it's working and I'm impressed.

Something else that's impressed me - Neil's business sense and his ability to use it in subtle and effective ways. Coraline did get mentioned rather a lot during the con and what do you know; it's due to be released as a film soon.  And if you're quick, you can still download a free copy of  American Gods from his website (but expect to feel the urge to buy it afterwards - the sales of this book have gone up significantly since the freebie offer).

Someone asked Neil: "Since you record and sell audio books, does it bother you that these have been made illegally available via peer-to-peer download services?"

He replied by asking how many people in the audience had found their favourite author by buying a book they knew nothing about, apart from the blurb on the cover. Some hands went up. He then asked: "How many of you found your favourite author for free; through borrowing a book, or by some other means?" A forest of arms shot up.

"See?" said Neil.

By doing this sort of thing, he is clever on so many levels. Instead of demonising potential fans, he works with them. Instead of struggling upstream against the inevitable changes in how the market and technology is evolving, he swims with the current and uses it to his advantage.

I've got into the habit of listening to podcasts and audio books whilst sat at airports waiting for delayed flights, or trying to relax in uncomfortable hotel rooms. I found Stardust as an audio book on iTunes, narrated by Neil - and am now tempted to buy it. Can't decide whether it would be silly, considering I have it as an actual book (now also autographed; thank you very much!).

There is no way I'd use a peer-to-peer service, just in case you're wondering.

The art of business travel

I don't travel light. I hate the idea of limiting my options. This doesn't mean I pack the kitchen sink, but it does mean that I will take some things "just in case" and carry certain items that other people wouldn't even think of packing. Like some herbal teabags and my own cup. My mother worked in hotels all her life and let me tell you - I know enough about how the rooms and cups are cleaned to have put me off using the crockery.

Overnight stay: one holdall (half-full) + handbag (very full) + laptop-size rucksack; my mobile office (very full).

I now work for 3 departments (which excites and inspires me, but generates a lot of material), have a fully loaded Time Manager (in Filofax covers, mind you - the Time Manager ones were a bit pants), have just started an OU science course and like to have a book with me too. Not that I always need to carry paperwork for all 3 departments and my course, but sometimes I do (as was the case on the trip I just got back from yesterday).

Unfortunately I need few medicines and the epi pen with me. (The meds are now in a lovely travel system I bought from Finland. It's a circular pill organiser that takes a few of each. Really useful).

Then there are the toiletries. I guess I could be better at getting travel sizes of things, or decanting product into a travel container.

Make-up doesn't take that much space, as I have nice miniatures and palettes. Most of it fits into my handbag.

I'm quite good at the clothes and shoes thing. Outfits that combine well, work for travel and don't take up much space. And the shoes I wear are usually multi-functional and comfortable (I am one of those women that only does the high-heeled thing at special occasions).

When I'm zooming around in the Smart, I feel most at ease. Everything fits; I don't have to carry heavy items for very long - brilliant.

The journeys that demand other modes of transport are becoming trickier and trickier. And now there just seem to be more of them, which is not a problem, but I've realised that I need to become quite a lot better at the whole art of business travel.

I still maintain that one of my priorities will be to feel well prepared. Just need to figure out how to make that compatible with travelling light.