One of the things about which I have always felt most strongly is the treatment of other people in the manner in which I would like to be treated. I do not verbally abuse, belittle or patronise people, never, ever shout or scream or throw loud tantrums in my professional life & try very hard not to indulge in capriciousness or solipsism at the expense of my co-workers’ sanity. I treat my assistants properly and I write thank you letters.
Then again, I’m not going to pretend that I am Miss Pollyanna Perfect & that I never get cross or upset or that in my dyspraxic haze I don’t sometimes forget to call or write my bread & butter letters. And I did do some low blood sugar induced muttering & ranting last week in the back of my LFW Merc & on Twitter when I was occasionally treated badly by publicists with amnesia, an inability to respond to courteous emails or an unprofessional attitude.
It’s ridiculous really that I even need to set out my ethical stall in this manner, but fifteen years of working in the media has taught me that the way in which I would wish to behave is quite frequently the exception not the rule amongst my peers.
One of the things I have noticed again & again during my career is that a bad working attitude is one that frequently percolates down from the top. There are more than a few senior editors, publicists, photographers & stylists out there who are little more than power crazed bitches on wheels (women AND men), proving that bullies are bullies whether or not they are dressed in Marni. Unfortunately they have a tendency to train up a whole new strata of dog eat dog, scared bullies in their likeness.
So I determined early on that I would never, ever treat anyone who works for or with me in that way. Sure it sometimes bites you on the hand, (in a recent magazine job an assistant exploited my goodwill to my detriment), but in business I believe in reaching out a hand to anyone who needs or asks for it, be they competitor, junior or friend. I think it always comes back to you eventually, even ten or twenty years later.
And that supportive attitude is one of the reasons why I took to the blogosphere like a duck to water. It’s full of people who stretch out to help, comfort, support at the merest suggestion. My kind of people. (Tania Kindersley sums it all up beautifully here.) So it was especially lovely to meet a coterie of fashion bloggers at LFW in person for the first time, and be overwhelmed by the loveliness on display.*
Amongst whom were the charming Mademoiselle a Paris who collared me in the tents, and the delightful Random Fashion Coolness who I met on Day One. Kiki & I swept her up and pushed her into the blogmobile LFW Merc as we sped around town. I’m afraid we did bully her a wee bit, force-feeding her snacks from the hamper, making her to come to shows with us by dint of giving her my spare seated tickets and whisking her into venues when her invitation had been lost in the mail.
After LFW had died down, she Tweeted me to say there wld be a delivery for me at lil’sis’s house. Sure enough on Friday the doorbell rang, and this box was handed over.
I didn’t open it immediately but Posetta left me in no doubt as to the contents as she sat & WAILED for ten minutes. Honestly it sounded like she was being tortured.
And inside were these frosted cupcakes with just the most amazing thank you sticker on the inside:
I’d just like to say Miss RFC that was way beyond necessary, but was quite the most thoughtful & fabulous thing anyone has done for me in ages. So THANK YOU petal. They were delicious, and Posetta derived much fun from licking the frosting off her whiskers.
*I just wish that more bloggers had come up to say hello – I’ve had a lot of emails & comments from bloggers saying that I had been recognised from Grazia around the shows but that they didn’t want to hassle me. Please, please do say hello in the future. It’s always so interesting to meet other bloggers.