When a part of your life needs to R.I.P

A week ago I was contacted through FB by my lovely friend and collegue, Madam S. We worked together at one of the countries largest magazine publishing organisations for many years and while it has been more than ten years since I treaded the well worn carpeted hallways the memory of the individuals, the very late nights, the unreasonable requests and the utmost disregard for personal time rose to the quivering surface of my subconscious. The now defunct organisation in question is dead and partially buried, but when one individual put the call out to all past employees, them hordes came a comin'.

Within one hour the virtual connections buzzed around the globe and suddenly the `newly formed FB group grew to over 1000 and counting...exponentially. I watched in awe as names of editors past, designers, wordsmiths, photo artists, executive assistants and mail room personnel put their hand up and declared proudly their recollective associations of an era gone, but obviously never forgotten.

While admitting that watching 'The Devil Wears Prada' had most of us rocking silently in the foetus position, I still shake my head thinking back to the secrets most of us were forced to dismiss. And let me tell you, there was a lot. Outrageous behaviour fuelled by the capatalist 80s generation. Advertising budgets, photoshoots, whispers in the loading dock. You name it, it happened. I know there is another novel in there somewhere, but I dare say no one will have the balls to publish it.

Even though I tried to shake off the feeling, the human insight is thus; we loved the idea of putting words onto paper, by creating beauty from the ordinary and to go to work in a world which separated itself from reality. To those beautiful people in the black Armani suits and to my fellow artisans, lets agree that you can take the gal outta the magazines, but you cant take the magazine outta the gal.

RIP.

#opinion #careergirl #magazineworld #worldofpublishing