Pain is love when it comes to shoes

If a girl describes a pair of heels as comfortable, still does not mean she could stand and walk and run and dance in them without, at some point, feeling like she's about to die.

It means that they're the least uncomfortable pair of heels. They're comfortable within a frame of discomfort.

And despite being the shoe of choice, stiletto heels were made for a utopian world of even surfaces. As a Sydney girl, I analyse the landscape based on 'holy shit, that street would be a bitch to walk up in heels.' And then there is the fear of getting your heel stuck in between the paving. So you're constantly analysing your environment and feeling nothing as sassy or sexy and empowering as wearing heels is supposed to.

I love a good pair of 'comfortable' heels. But nothing beats walking as fast as you actually want to go.

Just to demonstrate the power of shoes, despite everything I've just said, they are still a major weakness of mine (along with oversized bags and chunky necklaces). Whether they be heels or flats - breaking into shoes is the ultimate love-hate relationship. You wear them in until they're comfortable, wear them out to the point or irreparable repair, find another love and the painful cycle starts all over again.

Love, Noeline

P.S. If the ultimate love-hate relationship in your life is a human being you should probably get that checked out.

How to make people think you studied journalism

How to make people think you studied journalism?
1. Own a blog.
2. Write in it. Moderately. In sentences. With paragraphs. Avoid smiley faces and keep photos to a minimum :)

I wasn't even a degree hopper. One of those people who stopped and started different courses depending on whether or not they felt like pursuing happiness or money - whichever one it happened to be at the time.

It used to infuriate me that the very people closest to me could never remember at least one of the two degrees I studied.

Oh yeah, journalism! Right?

After more than five years of correcting people, I've finally learned to take it as a compliment. So I'm a blogger. They think of me as a writer. I'll take that.

But little do people realise that a writer's insight can actually be used for more things than, well, writing.

Advertising is one of them. I studied a communications degree and majored in advertising because I've always been interested in the ways society and people think, intrigued with how they're continually changing, and excited because it means there's always something new to discover. People underestimate the amount of research that goes into making campaigns as resonant and meaningful as they are (or aren't... in which case they probably didn't do enough research).

At the same time, I've always loved art. And I think you can appreciate advertising in a similar combination of aesthetics, strategy and politics.

For similar reasons I also took up International Studies, because I love learning about different cultures and immersing myself in them. With this degree I was able to learn a new language and spend what will undoubtedly have been the best year of my life on exchange in a foreign country where it was spoken. It was great because I hate being complacent and almost need to live outside of my comfort zone - not just in terms of travel, but professionally.

In a position I thought would be better filled by a business or economics student - I recently got a new job in the finance sector. I know nothing of the stock market or share trading. Yet I was hired for my writing skills in the editing of material sent out to clients.

Same thing happened two years ago. Before working for a telco, I knew nothing about mobile technology. I couldn't tell you the difference between 3G and 4G, the value in a GB, or whether a higher or lower MHz frequency is better for your signal. But all my experience in clothing retail meant I could talk. I could sell, I was personable and knew how to build rapport.

All this reminds me of an opinion piece I came across on AdNews. "By having a hunger for personal development, focusing on how skills learnt in other industries are transferable, and an employer looking to diversify their skill base, anything is possible."

Having a specialisation is great. But dynamism and adaptability are two extremely important, undervalued assets that I think more employers need to embrace - especially in the industries that pride themselves as supposed risk takers.

DDB: Why not? Idea

Hi DDB,

'Why not?' ideas? I have them all the time when people say I over think things.

Like the time I wanted to see what Satanism is really all about: http://love-noeline.blogspot.com.au/2009/08/enigma.html

Or the time I questioned the difference between dating someone exclusively, as opposed to being their actual girlfriend/boyfriend: http://love-noeline.blogspot.com.au/2012/09/dating-on-difficult-mode.html

Or the time I asked people what constitutes a bad kiss and who’s to blame: http://love-noeline.blogspot.com.au/2011/04/ingredients-for-bad-kiss.html

Or the time I researched why people pose for photos the same way every. single. time. Turns out it's a mental illness: http://love-noeline.blogspot.com.au/2010/11/good-side-bad-side.html

I’m passionate about blogging because it gives me a platform for deconstructing the things we take for granted to an appreciative audience.

In the words of Albert Einstein, "I have no special talent. I am only passionately curious."

I've got plenty more curiosity where this blog came from, and I hear you guys are into consumer insights. So why not hire me and help an aspiring suit put it to good use?

Cheers, Noeline

From one milestone to another

 

This arrived in the mail today. So it's official. I'm part of the Golden Key International Honour Society for being in the top 15% of my university cohort.

As thrilled as I should be, I'm petrified. By mid November I'll have graduated.

But I'm already feeling the pressure of having to make something of myself. After all, what good are a bunch of scholarships and awards if I can't make it in the 'real world'?

For the first time in a long time, I don't know where I'll be this time next year and quite frankly, it's scaring me.

When people asked what I do for work, I grew accustomed to the comfort of being able to tell people I hadn't finished my studies yet. In other words "back off, I'm not a failure (yet)" - while at the same time telling myself I'll worry about finding a job when the time comes for it.

So here I am, no more emotionally prepared than I was at the start of my double degree.

I always knew I was getting myself into a competitive industry - but I didn't expect it to be so heartless either. I guess I'm all the more disheartened due to some drama that happened a few weeks back. I got a job at an agency I highly respected and admired, only to have it taken away from me in the most deceitful, unprofessional way.

To make things worse, I had given up my internship at another, smaller agency for this very position. An agency who were offering me a full-time job after university were I to stay on with them.

I was flung back to square one.

I was distraught. For the first time in my life, I experienced symptoms of heartbreak women usually go through because of men. I cried until it hurt to keep my eyes open, and I'd surrender myself to a deep sleep. I lost my appetite and fell into a sob whenever someone asked me how I was doing.

Those few days I spent hating life, the world went on without me. And that's the thing. The world doesn't slow down to comfort anybody. So with a bruised ego I got up and asked myself, what can I take away from this in order for me to move on?

No contracts were signed so there's no point pushing a case of 'he-said-she-said'. Next time, I will
sign a contract before quitting my current job. It was a hard lesson. But at least I learnt it young. At least I wasn't older, with bills and a mortgage at stake, nor a family to support.

Lesson two: it hurt because it mattered to me. Because I wanted it. People go through mid-life crises asking themselves if they chose the right path for them - is this what I really want? It was a hard lesson, but it was self-affirming in that at least I know this is where I want to be.

Lesson three: shit happens. And there's no point being embarrassed about it. So you lost a job you kind of never had. The people who care about you just want you to be happy.

So here's to hoping everything works out okay as I try making it alive from one milestone to another.

Love, Noeline
X

Dating on difficult mode

Turns out I've been playing the dating game without knowing the basic controls.

I only just discovered that being exclusive with someone is NOT the same thing as being their girlfriend. In fact, they're two completely different levels. I've compiled a step-by-step guide of the relationship memo that seems to have missed me all of the nine years I've been dating.

1. Dating and still being able to see other people
2. Exclusively seeing each other
3. I wouldn't tell people you're my girlfriend, I'd say you're my girl
4. OK, now you're my girlfriend
5. Partners
6. Husband and wife

The last time I used the word 'partner' was in kindergarten, and it referred to the guy you had to hold hands with in line. Pointing this out to a friend, suddenly I was the one over analysing things!

I feel like all these different stages complicate relationships for the sake of complicating relationships.

And apparently, it doesn't necessarily need to be made known when the relationship is transitioning from one level to the other. Apparently, it "happens naturally." ARE YOU BOTH MIND READERS OR SOMETHING? I'm sorry, but could you maybe wave a flag when we're onto the next one? Just so I know?

And also, since you never actually asked me to be your girl, and since you have no intention of asking me to be your girlfriend should that holy grail of a day ever come, are you ever going to ask me to marry you? Or should I just expect to wake up married one day?

If a guy were to come up to me in a club and ask if I had a boyfriend, I'm not going to waste a single breath shouting about how it's complicated, because it would sound a little like this: "YOU SEE, WE'RE TOGETHER BUT NOT TOGETHER. HE WOULDN'T WANT ME GIVING MY NUMBER TO PEOPLE LIKE YOU, OR ANYONE ELSE FOR THAT MATTER. SO BASICALLY, HE WANTS TO OWN ME WITHOUT HAVING TO WORK FOR IT. BECAUSE WE'RE NOT THAT SERIOUS, YET, I THINK. BUT HE LIKES ME, HE REALLY REALLY LIKES ME."

Then imagine if that guy asked you to repeat what you just said. His jam came on halfway through and got distracted. And it's funny because some guys have as much fun defining the different degrees of a relationship as much as the next girl. Like casually naming every single bone in the body and going, "Oh, didn't you know that?"

Fuck. That. Shit. Get over yourselves. Seriously.

Am I with someone or am I not with someone? That's all I want to know. Is that so much to ask? And why did no one tell me about this earlier!

Thoughts?

Love, Noeline
X

Overthink and underachieve

Compare yourself to the right people and you can find ways to make yourself feel like both an underachiever and overachieve.

I find it flattering when people think I've achieved a lot for my age. But their compliment gets swept up in my thoughts of other people. People my age with careers earning close to six digits. People with houses and cars and actual independence. People with jobs chasing after them while I beg to get free work experience.

Then there's other people way older than me, still trying to figure out what makes them happy.

The question we should all be asking ourselves is whether or not we feel like we've done okay given our own personal circumstances. Only then we can finally start to give ourselves credit, or at least confront us into reevaluation.

I hope she knows you only like the beginning of things

"I hope she knows you only like the beginning of things" 

- Faye, Mad Men

A friend got me hooked on Mad Men recently. It got me thinking about a few things. Like, did admen of the 60's really consume that much alcohol while on the job? 

Lose a client? Have a drink. Win a client? Have a drink. I need to see you in my office. Here's another drink. 

It wasn't until Faye's quote above that I got to thinking about things other than whiskey. Unfortunately it made me empathise with the wanker in the situation, Don. After they had already started seeing each other, Don calls Faye to say he's marrying his secretary, to which she responds "I hope she knows you only like the beginning of things."

For me, the beginning of relationships is the most exciting. You know that feeling you get as a little kid opening a present? Even if it turned out to be shit (which, in most cases it was), somewhere along the line I got addicted to that little thrill of discovery. Everything is a surprise, everything unexpected. 

Like the way they do things. Their likes and dislikes. Their stories. Their eyes under different lights and the way they laugh, then committing it to memory so you can replay it back later.

But like lines memorised from your favourite movie, relationships can get predictable. Maybe predictable is the wrong word. Others might call it stability.

However, another friend made a really good point in that, each to their own, people confuse lust for love as much as people confuse comfort for it - the truth of which relieved me of some of my guilt.

"I love the tension," he admits. And keeping the spark alive? Well that's a whole other life skill...

Love, Noeline

X

Life after Red

Yesterday was my last day as a PR assistant at Red Agency. The past four months have absolutely flown by and I've learnt an incredible amount. But I'll miss the team the most. It makes me wonder if I love PR because I love PR, or because I love them. Let's say it's probably a bit of both.

Prior to my internship I had never considered a career in PR, and now I see it being as being a real option. I love the variety of clients that working in an agency gives you. I love the busy work environment because it makes it feel like yesterday that I was being interviewed, asking for my login details and being shown how to use the coffee machine.

I will miss all the "Colin" references, pulling out "the claw" at waiters with canapés, Adam's appetite, sword dance and obsession with Delta Goodrem, Liz yelling "taxi," Rach's nirvana inducing home-made rocky road, Lexi's posh expressions (deeeelightful!), Tash's hand gestures when she speaks, James' stories of faraway lands with ice-cream flavours that shouldn't exist and Nicole's constant victimisation for being a Westie.

These sweethearts surprised me with a heartfelt farewell card, chunky necklace (very me) and a Red velvet cupcake (very on-brand). I was definitely feeling the love.

With a semester of uni to go, it was a shame that the end of my contract didn't coincide with the end of my studies - or that my availability didn't change with my new timetable. The worst case scenario is that I got to work in an amazing agency with amazing people and gained invaluable skills and experience.

So now I'm on the search for an advertising internship to try my hand at the industry I've spent the past four and a half years studying to get into. I hope to love it as much as the course subjects. I haven't done an advertising internship before and am itching to know what it's like in practice.

But anyone else studying advertising would probably understand the predicament of such positions being few and far between. Applications for advertising internships don't usually open until the end of the year, and there are hundreds, if not thousands of applicants. The process can be strenuous, with applications often resembling university assignments them selves.

Wish me luck!

The promise loophole

Maybe he thinks it's not really breaking a promise if he forgot, so he goes ahead and makes so many.

Response to The Shire

Love it or hate it you're doing The Shire a favour by talking about it. The very people bagging it out make up half the target market.

We lost brain cells while they got ratings and money and a shitload of Facebook and Twitter updates i.e free publicity. All for the simple price of making you feel better about yourself, morally superior.

A lot of people seem not to realise that the show was never positioned to be inspiring in the first place. They knew that even the smartest, most educated of us wouldn't be able to resist. So who are the real losers in all this?

Although, I've noticed that trash inspires the best in wit and sarcasm social media has ever seen. And they're pretty fun to read.

Oh the tragedy

I think a lot if people fantasise about hardship. So they create drama where there was none. So they can bitch about it and have someone admire them for overcoming such adversity. Even if they put it on themselves.

#firstworldproblems part 2

• When your hair randomly decides to start parting from the other side
• Wanting to pour yourself a drink but not wanting to put your food down to do so
• When you order something you've been craving all day, and it doesn't hit the spot
• Lint on your stockings
• Lint, in general
• Uni timetable clashes
• Track work
• When the only seat left on the train is the one that faces everyone else

#firstworldproblems

• Hot meals and beverages with your glasses on. Hello fog!
• Getting your HELP statement and being reminded of how much debt you have waiting for you at the end of your studies.
• In winter, that moment before jumping in the shower and having to take your clothes off.
• In winter, that moment after jumping out of the shower and reaching for the towel.
• In winter, getting out of bed.
• Winter.
• Being overwhelmed by imagined scenarios and factors that you don't know what to pack.
• So much food, don't know where to start.
• Stomach full, but it tastes so good.
• Being hungry, and cursing your past self for not having eaten more.
• People who support the right, yet complain about company lay-offs, unfair redundancies, lowered pay and commission rates - or just workplace instability in general. Isn't that what capitalism is all about?
• Being 200 pages into Fifty Shades and not wanting to finish the book, but hate starting things and not finishing them.
• Winter.

Follow me on twitter @lovenoeline

Never been Kept

I've never been with the kind of guy who bought me things (fast food meals notwithstanding). As nice as I think it would be to be excessively showered with expensive presents - I can't help but equate it with a proportionate level of insanity. Possessiveness, to be exact.

Hypothetically, I think a part of me would feel obligated to stay with him. I'd feel bought out, literally.

I mean, it's all fun and games when the money's not yours. But is he really the kind of guy you'd want to share a bank account with? And what kind of shit values would he impart on your future children?

I once knew a person who complained about her boyfriend only ever buying her 'cheap' jewellery from Angus & Coote. "He never buys me anything from Tiffany & Co.," she puffed.

And here I am cheering when a guy buys me a drink. Which again, is still never.

To equate how much someone feels for you through material things, I think signals some definite insecurity issues.

Or maybe this belief in myself is really a defense mechanism against the fact that I've just never been worth it. Hmm...

This

Guys who act all macho, when at the end of the day all they really want is someone to boss them around and tell them what to do. They'll complain about it because it's the least respectable thing they can do for themselves while being treated like shit. But they'll never leave her. Never.

Lucky bastard

This video left me seething with jealousy. Guy gets paid to make a video for Nike. Look at what he does with it.

Taking long distance relationships home

If it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never to have loved at all, exchange students know it best. A recent study by Communication Research found that 50% of students aged between 19 and 26 are in a long-distance relationship, and that in a few years this percentage will increase to 75%.

How is it that we struggle to make that special connection with someone in our own cities back home, yet manage to completely hit it off with someone who, in most cases, doesn’t even speak the same native language as us? It’s quite unfortunate, really. Why cupid, WHY?

One minute you’re taking it slow and seeing how things go until BAM. You’re in love. Even your friends approve. He has a French accent (WIN). Now get out of the country.

What happens from there is a test – physically and emotionally. How much does this person really mean to you and how hard are you willing to work to make it last? It’s one thing to say that you miss each other and that you want to be together (thank you Skype and Facebook) – but to actually do something about it is another. It involves saving money for plane tickets and getting your paperwork together for a VISA. It involves looking for a job in that country and perhaps having to learn yet another new language.

Even until then, you have time differences to deal with. Fun. Depending on where you are, when one person has just woken up the other could be getting ready for bed – and the novelty of saying ‘good morning’ while the other replies with ‘good night’ quickly wears off after about… two days.

Although I have yet to see any babies or a marriage come out of it, I have friends whose overseas lovers have followed them back to Australia – albeit only for a short period of time. Other couples, like my good friend from the USA had her then boyfriend from Chile come to spend Christmas and New Years with her. Another couple, he from Canada and she from Italy, have since met up in New York – amongst other future plans of being in the same country.

Whoever thinks long distance relationships are glamorous, has never been in one.

Love, Noeline

xox

Women in the workplace: Not enough shoes to fill

Squeezing in one last entry before the competition closes in 3 days.

Help me win the Commonwealth Bank's Global Blogger Search, and get me blogging to you from New York or Tanzania.

It's easy!
1. Click here
2. Rate it, share it, tweet it, blog about it.

Thanks for your support!

Customer Service Rep or Verbal Punching Bag?

Ughhhhh. Customers would be better off filing formal complaints than taking it out on part-time and casual sales staff. I mean, how much sway do you honestly think we have? There's different departments for a reason. I'm sure you work for an organisation where you don't control everything either. But I guess you do it for the verbal punching bag aspect. Believe it or not we're human too. I'm sorry some of your phone calls get directed overseas. No need to get racist about it either. It wasn't my idea. Promise.

Have a nice day (because you've ruined mine).

I NEED YOU!

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THANKS GUYS x

HELP!

Anyone already work for a marketing/advertising company or department thereof?

Need an unpaid internship for one of my final year subjects.

Any help would be greatly appreciated. X

Today's purchases :)

Wolf!

To all the on-again-off-again couples. Ever wondered why you're losing all your friends until you only have each other to run back to? Read 'The Boy Who Cried Wolf.'

Love, Noeline
xox

When are you coming to The Philippines? When I win the lotto.

Today marks my one month anniversary back in Sydney. Despite experiencing post-erasmus depression, I have to admit that it's gone by pretty fast. Whereas I was once so hard to get a hold of, I've now been jumping at every opportunity of human contact - coffee, drinks, lunch, dinner. Anything.

"I have no phone, no job and no classes. In other words no life," I would say self-pityingly to those who asked me when I was free.

My old friends had new lives. The ones that were in uni had now graduated and had full time jobs. The animals I used to party with had settled down. Friends who once had time for me were now more 'whipped' than ever.

For the first time in a long time I found myself bored. I was restless.

So I buried myself in a book by one of my favourite authors. I prepared packages and wrote handwritten letters for twelve of my overseas amigos. For more than a decade my grand mother has been asking me when I was going to see her. When on the phone to my dad she would express fear of passing away before that time would ever come. When I was younger I quite honestly told her I would visit her when I won the lotto. It became a running joke, my naivety in thinking it was that easy to win millions of dollars. I've never even won a school raffle in my life. So with my left over money I booked a trip to The Philippines. I leave in five days.

Whereas home was merely a place for sleep in between class and work in the city, I've now been spending the best part of many days there. Sit down meals with my family were rare. Now I have them everyday. And it's been nice.

I've realised who my real friends are. And as happens with time, not only does this group tend to get smaller and smaller but the characters in it change. Friends who said they couldn't wait for my return have yet to be heard from. The first person I thought I would see ended up being one of the last, and I felt, only out of obligation to the friendship we used to have. But with that said, people I didn't know a year ago and live thousands of kilometers away have proven them selves to be more genuine, more supportive and better listeners than people I've known for years in Australia.

If they're the only thing constant in my life, I've rediscovered the meaning of family. On my last European trip to Amsterdam I worried about not having enough space for all the presents I wanted to buy for my family.
"Why, how many people are you buying stuff for? I'm only getting things for my mum, dad and brother," said a friend.
I pulled out a piece of paper listing the names of aunts, uncles and cousins like a weekly grocery list. Turns out a lot of other people don't associate much with their extended family. I came back just in time for Christmas and New Year, and whereas I once hated not being able to spend such occasions with friends, I love that we make a big family fiasco out of them. When someone doesn't show up they're inquired after the rest of the night. My cousins are like brothers and sisters to me. I like that we hang out with each other. And upon booking our tickets to The Philippines, family connections I forgot existed or thought too distant were suddenly offering us places to stay, to drive us around, to be our translators and chaperones. Unlike extended families who stop talking after a quarrel, I'm glad to say hasn't happened to mine. I want my children to grow up with my cousin's children. I want my children not only to know their grandmother, but their grandmother's brothers and sisters.

I've also had time to over-think. People have asked me how many more years of uni I have left (which, fyi, is one) - and what I want to do after. I intended using my year overseas as a time to get the travel bug out of my system. You know, while I was still young. I would then finish uni and find a job, establish for myself a career in the advertising industry, marry, have kids, and be merry. But now that I've come back, I don't want to do anything else but learn more languages and travel. Some people have suggested doing both, but business trips don't exactly leave you with much time to explore and experience the culture. The most 'successful' people I've met have also been the most miserable. I see them on the train in their fancy suits on their laptops - and they're not even in the office yet. I listen to friends bitch about their bosses, of feeling a lack of self-worth and purpose. The happiest people I've met work 'ordinary' jobs - working at a hostel in Granada, Spain; serving ice cream in Paros, Greece; running a university cafeteria in Logrono; Spain. I had my life planned out, albeit roughly, and now I don't know what to do. I work myself anxious thinking about it.

Even though I've never failed a class I get scared that this year I might, and that I'll be stuck at uni longer than expected. I get scared that I'll never find a job in communications - for numerous reasons. Like for not having a prestigious enough education, for not coming from a more prestigious family, for not living in a more prestigious area. For not being white. For being a woman. For not having enough previous experience when I literally couldn't work unpaid internships because I had to help my family. Or that I'll get my dream job but end up hating it. Or that I'll get my dream job but it will require my own transport and how I don't have my license because I chose a degree that required me to live overseas for a year on my own money, and the very degree I originally thought would give me a cutting edge has instead fucked me over.

Everyone around me is professing their everlasting love on Facebook, along with getting married, having babies and buying houses with their spouses. As for me I don't even know what's going on with my love life.

So now that I've verbalised my distress (and congratulations to those of you who've made it this far), I'm off to try and channel this energy in positive ways, to challenge myself and overcome everyone's worst enemy: personal doubt.

Love, Noeline
xox

Nag nag nag

So... what am I supposed to take pictures of now? One can only take so many photos of Sydney Harbour. #getmeoutofhere

My Survival Kit

I've realised the value of always having something to look forward to. It's the only thing that ever gets me through the present.