We braced ourselves for change …

I chose that photo because I had dinner last week with these two remarkable women. The baby is 22, working and is the only source I trust for advice on what to wear and how to wear it; the 12 year old now runs a construction company, kicking ass in a male dominated sector. 

That photo, by the way, is from my second wedding. (I didn’t wear white, left that to the groom). If I’d asked permission to take and use a current photo we’d still be here arguing about it. 

Made me reflect on how much change we’ve endured/enjoyed in the intervening years. I’ll come back to dealing with change, but here in the present day, I recently bumped into an old boss of mine - the one I went to work for not long after this photograph was taken. Took me right back.

2002 a Space & Time Odyssey 

So here’s the story.  Jan 2002 I was a partner in the best professional service firm in the world (Arthur Andersen in case you need to ask) about to take maternity leave with six months guaranteed full pay.  The firm had realised it was losing too many senior women once they started a family, so had recently introduced this groundbreaking policy, along with hot desking, conversation rooms, casual dress code, fish tanks, bean bags and all sorts of workplace innovations that are now totally commonplace. 

(Aside: the accountants were flummoxed by the casual dress policy and gravitated en masse to chinos and a blue shirt; unless they were very posh in which case, on Fridays, they were daring and sported red cords and a checked shirt.  Whilst in the “People” knowledge team we all thought we were super individual and creative so all wore black everything, all the time.  Prada if you could afford it, Prada look alike if not. Can’t recall who exactly started that trend. This was the look we were going for. Individual unless you all look the same.

Anyway, come September, the perfect, uniquely global, firm had undergone a rapid, global collapse (someone forgot the “integrity” bit of the values statement) and the UK piece was bought by Deloitte.  Returning from my well paid mat leave I was offered a demotion and a job working for David, an ex Andersen partner, who’d been given a bit of a hospital pass running everything that wasn’t the core business of audit and tax. 

Snakes in the Grass

Or perhaps vampires at the door, or wolves at the gate, whatever, the point is that most of the people running bits of the business that David was supposed to “lead” were chiefs in their own kingdoms waiting for him to fail.  And probably salivating at the prospect of watching it happen.  My job was to talk to them, solicit their views and organise “leadership” meetings. 

Omg.

I’ll give you a flavour of some of the personalities I had to deal with, bearing in mind this in purely my recollection and other recollections may differ.

ME 1 - he was a rockstar because he ran one of the biggest accounts.  Untouchable. Would only speak to me at the local Caffe Nero where he sat opposite me and blew cigar smoke directly into my face, daring me to object.  (Years later he was fired for corruption but I’m talking years not days).

ME 2 - not a direct report to David but the firm’s powerful second in command.  He sat behind a very large desk in a very large office at the top of a very tall building, in an office guarded by a very fierce secretary and with a very frightening ten metre walk to get to the very small chair where you had to sit if you wanted to talk to him about anything.  (Took me a while but I eventually realised Janice was lovely and M wasn’t so bad if you were prepared to stand up to him).

IJ - a “dealer”.  Thought he was above everyone else because he ran “Transactions”.  Also thought his true calling was in a trading floor, so proudly sported striped shirt and braces and kept a fridge stocked with alcohol in his office. (Far too big for his boots, no idea what happened to him in the end).

PA - a FEMALE partner!  Not in a leadership position, obviously, but a support to me when I once had to organise a big partner conference.  Her husband was in private equity and she had two children too.  Inspiring, funny, creative.  How did she make it work?  A day nanny, a night nanny and a weekend nanny.  She resigned a couple of years before I did. 

I could go on.  Despite, and maybe because of, the characters, I have very very fond memories of that time.  I was young, energetic, hopeful and looking back with twenty years’ distance between now and then, I’m also hopeful for Joanna, Florence and their peers that despite all the mess that the world is facing at the moment, they will thrive. 

PS David’s poisoned chalice turned into a font of opportunity and he went on to run the firm.

PPS in our darkest days when all the Andersen folk thought the world had ended, a very smart man told me (well, tbh he told my husband but I’m stealing it) “Cream rises”. The only thing I’d add is, “if the cream is prepared to work for it”.

The World Has Changed

ME 1 would not be allowed to blow smoke in my face as smoking in cafes is not allowed.  

IJ probably wouldn’t be allowed to have alcohol in a fridge in his office. 

It’s not perfect but partnerships are a lot more diverse now, especially from a gender perspective.

Big men behind big desks, exuding power - still a lot of it about.

State of the Nation

Look, it’s not all doom and gloom.  I took my mum to see the Van Gogh exhibition at the National Gallery this week.  Monday afternoon.  You can imagine the audience.  

Back in February we went to see Vermeer in Amsterdam. Similar audience. Except they let far too many people in, and you couldn’t get to the paintings for the hoards of middle aged/old people trying to get close enough to take photos on their enormous cameras or, even worse, smart phones.  Why would you take a photo of a masterpiece?  What’s wrong with just looking at it?  It’s like going to a concert and videoing the thing.  Just bloody listen!

Anyway, the National was a triumph.  Smaller crowds and, despite a similar demographic, very little photography going on, and what there was was by tourists.  And better still the cafe did a lovely pot of tea and fabulous scones with jam and cream.  I didn’t get a photo but can assure you that my mum kept up the print tradition.  Here she is.  Outfit chosen to match the curtains this time.

Time: Simply a Concept

It was a flying visit so my mum decided to travel light.  Which meant bringing a heavy shoulder bag rather than a pull along suitcase.  Being the dutiful daughter I thought I would accompany her back to Kings Cross and knowing how London traffic can be, we decided to take the tube. 

Gave ourselves a whole hour for what should be a 20 minute trip.  Got to the tube station and lo and behold a Hammersmith & City rolled in and we hopped on.  Happy days. 

Not.

At Aldgate East it had a change of heart and decided to transition to being an east bound circle line.  We got off and walked over the bridge thinking we’d go east to Whitechapel and start again but the lady told us that was silly and we should retrace our steps and get the next westbound District line to Monument, change to the Northern line and get off at KX.

My friends, here’s what you need to know about Monument.

1. It sort of does what it says on the till.  If you want to see the Monument, go to Monument. It’s right there by the tube station.  Can’t miss it.
2. The tube map lies. It looks on paper as though Monument is a veritable spaghett junction, offering up all sorts of line options.  The truth is that there is a secret labyrinth there that extends right back to Liverpool Street, full of stairways, walkways, tunnels, alleys, that might eventually connect you to a tube you want to get on but only after a VERY long walk which will take you a VERY long time. Unless you are Joanna or Florence who both run sub 5 minute miles it’s going to be an issue for you. My mum goes to the gym five times a week but even so, we were, let’s say, pushed for time.

After what felt like 59 minutes of going round and round in circles we finally got her on the train with a minute to spare.  

Which feels a little bit like my work at the moment.  Going round and round in circles not quite reaching the destination.  Sent one candidate for a role, her ten years’ experience, including working in house were “too much”; sent another, her ten years were “not enough” as she didn’t have recent experience of ESG (mate, no one has years’ experience of ESG, we’ve only been talking about it for five minutes, anyone who claims to be an expert is a Monumental con-artist)

Call me Goldilocks but i have every confidence we will get there eventually.

In the Meantime

There is always Miami.  Tanja has just told me she’s off to Miami in December.  Not to be outdone, I’m there now, ahead of the curve.

By the way, the reason this newsletter is so long is that I started it on the plane and will hopefully just top and tail ready to send on Sunday, by which time I will be five hours behind you and several margaritas down.

What to Expect When you’re Expecting a Change

Change. 

We all voted in a change of Government so we can hardly complain when they make choices to do things differently from the last lot. Well, I suppose we can complain when it turns out they were “economical with the truth” in their manifesto.  In any event, I sort of feel we have to go with it now and see what happens. But I very much hope they are held to account and hauled over the coals if there is any impropriety, deceit or corruption. 

My mum is less tolerant.  Her latest crusade is that of the poor old farmers. She is now a signed up member of the National Farmers’ Union and last I heard she was volunteering to drive a tractor round Trafalgar Square. And she can’t wait for this forecast cold snap to arrive so that she can get back on the winter fuel allowance campaign.

At least we don’t have a health secretary who doesn’t believe in vaccines. Although apparently Wes, Rachel and Kier (and presumably Morgan and Pat who are really the ones in charge) can’t agree what they do believe in when it comes to social care. They are going round and round in circles apparently, probably somewhere under Monument tube station.

Our American Cousins

I’m actually struggling to find anyone who wants to talk about the election here but from what I can gather there were three reasons for the result.

1. The economy
2. Immigration
3. No-one knew who Kamala Harris was

The New York Times is a much better source of analysis than real people, who seem to be taking the “let’s see what happens” tack. The writing is now all about Trump’s choices for key offices. My favorite phrase so far has to be “This is like the Star Wars’ bar scene of nominees.

Funny. Except it’s so not funny.

The Cultural Slot

I’m watching: Wolf Hall. Sublime. Mark Rylance perfect and Damien Lewis is so menacing. Also Bad Sisters season 1. Catching up ready for season 2. And managed to watch the first three episodes of A Gentleman in Moscow on the plane and it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Still think Ewan McGregor miscast though and didn’t love it enough to be paying to watch the rest of it when I get home

I’m reading: Standard Deviation by Katherine Heiny. Made me laugh out loud. Good holiday book. By the way, I left Antarctica by Claire Keegan at home by mistake. It’s short stories, which I don’t generally do, but I’m LOVING it so thanks to my husband friend Viv for the gift,

I’m listening to: This Cultural Life podcast. Bill Nighy episode, very entertaining.