Thou Shalt Not Be Defined By Work
Is it me? Am I the drama? I have no idea what to call myself now that I am no longer an editor. Why is there so much rizz in a title?
I’ve noticed the wildest (okay, not the WILDEST, calm down Dani) thing about myself recently. And it is this: despite what Instagram tells me, I definitely, irrevocably identify myself by virtue of my work. And yes, Insta prophets will tell you that your worth is not defined by your productivity. But try telling that to someone who has had the same job in the same industry for a solid almost-three decades.
It's me. Spoiler alert. It’s me. And probably many of you, if you are Of An Age. What became my career - although I would have hardly dared call it that back then - kicked off firmly in the late Nineties. By 22, I was working as the most junior of journalists, writing up the smallest of lifestyle features for local community newspapers. If they needed someone young to handle a Youthful Story, I was your gal… I covered the social scene and the first sex shop opening in Johannesburg. It was in the Illovo Post Office Centre, FYI.
My responsibilities grew to the point of – drumroll, please – being in charge of the competition fax machine. You snigger, but that was A Big Deal. We received hundreds and hundreds of hand-scrawled entries for competitions. That fax machine worked harder than the doorman at a Puff Daddy pool party, powering through names at all hours.
You could still smoke indoors, so obviously I did because all the cool Work People did. You went for lunch with half your work floor on Fridays. And you slowly got to write bigger pieces and be given more responsibility and you worked your way into more senior positions until – jackpot! – the editorship of An Actual Magazine. That a lot of people read.
And then once you’re an editor? Well, you stay an editor. You might move magazines and your audience and readership might grow and shrink, along with your influence and your finger on the zeitgeist, but you’re an editor. And it was an easy, wonderful, simple thing to explain what it was that I did for a living. I was a journalist and then I was an editor. As my younger punk reminds me: “It was much easier to tell people what my mom did when I could just say, ‘she is the editor of Women’s Health.’” Me too, punk, me too.
I’ve realized in last couple of months, since finally saying goodbye to media – yes, a protracted goodbye, I’ll admit, like a teenage girl on a late night phone-call to her boyfriend – that when people ask me what I do now, I say: “I used to be the editor of Women’s Health, Grazia, Modern, blah blah…”
Fork it, that sounds lame. My brain has proved unable to spit out a concise term for what I am doing now. As my brother loves to quote – he’s younger, so obvs he keeps me deeply humble like brothers are wont to do – “I am the executive creative director, chief buyer and lifestyle coordinator. It’s a huge responsibility and I am very important.” Yes, its Patsy from Ab Fab. Yes, he thinks he is hilarious. Yes, it is funny.
What’s the deal though? Is it a Gen X thing? Gen Z seem to be so much wiser about their work-life balance. Is it a mid-life thing? So many women my age seem to be transitioning into second careers. This is either out of interest or change… Your kids are out the house and you have less mom time and more me-time. You go back to study something you feel passionately about. You find something that allows for remote work regardless of country, time zone or working hours. So, what are we calling mine then?!
I love to write and I loved being an editor. It takes the writing part and steams it up with design and photography and curation. As an editor, you got to the think about the entire package, the entire album, not just the radio single. And putting that together felt like an art – getting the pacing right, the mix of stories and words to keep a reader buzzed, informed, entertained and interested, but with enough left in the tank that they are dying to get their hands on the next issue. That world of media doesn’t exist anymore.
Consumption habits now are snacky. We’re a plate of picky bits, not a three-course sit-down dinner. And this newsy gets to be exactly that – a love of writing, a conversations with friends and a moreish plate of picky bits. But it is also not my job. And if it is, do I call myself a writer? That sounds so skull-crackingly, insufferably eye-rolly. Writers write… books. Don’t they?
I have launched two businesses in the time since leaving media. On TikTok, that would make me a female founder. Skull crackingly, insufferably eye-rolly. They are both content businesses. Content? Skull-crackingly insufferably eye-rolly word. The one biz is wholly focused on social media, creating cool, trending content (urgh) for Insta and Tiktok. It’s based on a squillion years of being on the pulse of what audiences (urgh) want to know about. And I know I am good at it. But what the fork do I call myself? Am I A) the boss B) the director C) the CEO D) the founder E) skull-crackingly insufferably eye-rolly?
The other biz, launched with a partner, an ex-colleague, I can wax lyrical about for hours. I know exactly what we do and how we do it. It’s called Happy Culture. Its focused on employer brand. Basically, it allows us to tell cool stories for corporates (who don’t know how to tell fun stories) so that people out there want to work for them. And so that the people who do work there, love that they do. Its life-affirming in the best possible way, allowing people to love their jobs. But what the fork do I call myself? Am I A) a boss B) a director C) a partner D) a co-founder E) skull-crackingly insufferably eye-rolly?
Now, when I see someone I haven’t seen in a while and they say: “Dan, OMG, hiiiii, what are you up to these days?” I mutter something like, “Oh, erm, yes, well, I’ve just started a little content biz,” which is not really an answer at all. It does zero justice to me or the forking cracking businesses.
On a recent podcast - yes, I listen to podcasts now too, not just Harry Potter audio books and ASMR horny fairies - I heard this nugget. It was Jason Bateman on the brilliant podcast he hosts with his two besties, and he said: “Confidence lives on the backside of actually doing it.” And I love this. Maybe its easy to say I was a journalist and an editor because I have successfully checked those boxes. And maybe the next step just needs extra rizz.
Until then, can someone clever please come up with a title so I can go back to being a proud Gen Xer who can be described wholly and forever by her productivity. I am open to suggestions.
Also: listen to Jason Bateman’s podcast with Sean Hayes and Will Arnett. Its called Smartless and the three of them are magic together. Also: I’d love nothing more than to shoot the shit with my best mates for global consumption. Also: I love a celebrity friendship connection, so the fact that this trio of Arrested Development and Will & Grace are all chommies tickles me.
Love your posts - always so engaging. 😍