Warning: Engage brain before thumb

I have a story to share. It’s about something that happened to me during my recent hospital visit.

Apparently I’ve never been seen to blush quite the shade of coral that I did this day. Apparently my face matched my nightie. Nice, huh? Well, I am a stylist, so ofcourse everything must co-ordinate. But I digress…

You see, back in November 2011 I spent 21 days at the Wesley Hospital. I had a nice room with views across treetops. Not much else to see, just tree tops. Nice, but kinda boring after about a week. Towards the middle of my third week, I was moved to a room with river views. Yep! Cool huh? I could lie there watching rowers, sailers, City Cats, Coro Drive commuters and pedestrians. A welcome change of scenery I can tell you!

Move forward to March ’12 when I found myself back in hospital – this time my first stay at Greenslopes Private. A Twitter follower tweeted “How’s the view this time?” (or words to that effect, referring to my previous stay at the other hospital). To which I replied (to clarify any geographical confusion) something along the lines of “1st time at Greenslopes. Lovely hospital but zero view – looking out at a concrete wall less than a metre away”.

Now, let me say this. I do not complain – ever. I refuse to be “That bitch in Bed 5″. (I even wrote a blog about it back then. Here it is if you wanna refresh your memory). I’d have to be dying before I’d bring myself to press the “Call Nurse” button so imagine my shock/horror when this well-dressed stranger  appeared at my door, saying “Sorry to bother you, but I’m the hospital CEO. I saw your tweet and wanted to assure you that we are happy to move you to another room if/as soon as one with a view becomes available”!!

Picture the coral face-flush. The jaw drop. My husband and friend Tanya’s jaws doing the same thing. I had to think on my feet. (Oh, OK, on my back). I needed to assure this lovely man that I was SO NOT complaining. That my tweet was purely a reply to my follower’s question, letting her know I wasn’t in the same hospital so there wouldn’t, nor ever could be, a river view. But that it was still all good!  I was indeed receiving great care and very grateful  to be  in such comfortable surroundings, view or no view! I needed to convey this to him – and fast!

After I’d explained myself (imagine if I’d said it was a crappy hospital or bitched about a nurse etc etc? Arrrgh!) I  complimented him on their space-age heat-paks. Then, quite quickly, cheeky Al resurfaced. I suggested maybe some pretty curtains would make the window look better – to which he replied “infection control”. Fair point. Then I suggested painting murals on the concrete, to which he replied a colleague had once complained about not having a window in her office so they  painted a window on the wall to make her feel better! Is there anything this man won’t do to make people happy? The world needs more CEO’s like this man!

As he left, reassured that I really was a very happy customer, the really cheeky Al appeared once more. In total jest, never thinking it would be addressed I said “Actually, while we’re at it, the tea/coffee machine in the Visitors Lounge next door has been out of coffee since I arrived. Do you reckon you could do something about that?”. To which we all had a chuckle and off he went. An hour later my son visited, polystyrene cup of coffee in hand. From where? You guessed it. The visitor’s lounge!

Not long after, I received a tweet from this lovely man which read “@stylecounsel Alison, was lovely 2 meet U. Tks 4 the gr8 feedback re the care u’re receiving. The team can arrange a move if a bed opens up”.  Eeek! So now everyone will actually still think I WAS complaining! Hopefully this has set the record straight to all my Twitter followers? Unless someone is blatantly rude or disrespectful, you will never hear a complaint from Big Al. Case closed. 

    Message to dimwits who engage thumbs before brains on Social Networks :

Never tweet anything about anyone that you’re not prepared to say to that person face-to-face. While I may have been shocked to find myself face to face with the CEO on this occasion, I was very relieved I had not been rude or disrespectful and could explain my comment and have a giggle.

Think about the image you project in the social media stratosphere. It is a very powerful medium, and used correctly, can be used for so much good. Used incorrectly, you could end up in some pretty hot water. Some people have even lost their jobs over poorly-worded tweets or Facebook comments – don’t let that be you!

]]> http://styleunzipped.com.au/do-you-think-before-you-tweet/feed/ 1 http://styleunzipped.com.au/365-acts-of-kindness-some-inspiration-for-one-day/ http://styleunzipped.com.au/365-acts-of-kindness-some-inspiration-for-one-day/#comments Thu, 22 Dec 2011 04:31:45 +0000 atriffett http://styleunzipped.com.au/?p=1741 This is what Random Acts of Kindness can look like every day. I dare you not to smile watching this…

One of the feel-good moments I had was when my daughter surprised me with a visit from my beloved Boof!

I’ve just returned home after a 20 day stay at Le Hotel de Wesley (Wesley hospital). I really tried hard to remain positive and cheery but I have to admit there were many blue moments in between. There are no frequent-flyer points awarded for frequent or protracted hospital stays, and take it from me, the days are long and lonely with only meals, obs and visitors to mark the time and lift your spirits.

One of the things I’ve always done to get me through is shift my focus to other’s stories instead of dwelling on my own sad tales. Face-to-face connections really work best to distract from pain, and I can’t tell you how grateful I am to the wonderful staff of 5B for their special touch and keeping me sane…

Which each change of shift I’d get so happy when I’d discover which nurse had once again been allocated to look after Bed 5 (then 10). I knew that the time would fly by ‘cos I’d have someone wonderful “visiting” me at any opportunity!

While these people took care of my physical needs every day, more importantly they took care of my spirit. They interacted with me on a personal level. They opened their own books and trusted me with a few pages of their stories. Sure, I asked. I’m good at that. But they could’ve given one-word answers and quickly left me alone. Instead they’d stay for a bit and truly brightened my day…

There was Kelly with those amazing blonde curls who proved to me that Gen Y’s are so NOT all the same and don’t always deserve the bad wrap we oldies give them. What a girl. A nurse with wisdom and style well beyond her years. I can just see her running a ward like this one day, and what a lucky ward that will be!

And Mary – my lovely Irish Nurse who from day one shared her knowledge, wisdom, philosophies and advice, poetry, and interesting tales of amazing people. What a wonderful attitude to life, with unique interests and so much nursing and life experience. And did I mention such style! I’d consider stealing her white jacket if I didn’t like her so much!

Then there was Libby who shed tears of joy hearing my recount of my surprise reunion with my beloved Boof (that’s my blind, diabetic dog, pictured above – in case you’re wondering). We’d share stories and photos of our pets and I’d share style and shopping tips in between. Her care and compassion made it clear to me that she’s soooo in the right job (although she could probably do some modeling on the side too, she is so pretty!).

Then there was the Physician who was filling in for my doctor on my first weekend in. What a gorgeous man who shared his story, videos of his two gorgeous dogs, ideas of ways I may be able to get answers to the more complex health questions I have, and treated me like a person/a friend, not just another hospital file to be cast into the too-hard-basket and handed over to others to worry about. And he quite easily could have, given that he wasn’t my assigned Physician.

Then there were those who fed and watered me each day. Simro, the proud new grandma of 5week old baby Jai who shared a connection with my daughter while she counted down the days to her visit with her family in Perth. And Michael who always shared a giggle and brightened my day, even though I’m sure I drove him batty with my daily requests for alcoholic beverages, and asking him to “guess” when he’d ask me what I’d like to drink. He never did bring me in my champagne. Perhaps I was asking too much? Obviously…

And what about Carlton? The ward orderly who was 63 but looked 33 (I’m not exaggerating either!). So professional, friendly, caring. A true gentleman who has done this job for so long, and so very well.

And Sharon, the gorgeous student nurse who recommended a great online shopping site and revved up ol’ Bernie with me; Megan with the beautiful bob (oh, and gorgeous poodle!); the unshockable Josh for whom nothing was ever a problem; Lissy who hasn’t got a TV but has got another bub on the way; Doris who sings and dances to music at the desk when she thinks no one can see her (sprung!); Ross who checked my dipstick when I’d panicked over nothing (long story); Kaoru who would come to me for goss, a giggle and news updates; Kate with the gorgeous lipstick & great taste in jewellery, who quickly became my advocate encouraging me to not give up until I find a successful treatment; Nicole who inspired not only me with her career-change story, but also gave my daughter great tips for decisions before her own graduate year.

The list goes on… There were many others who brightened my day. Like Bernie, the patient next door who shared tales of life, his children and everything in between. And his gorgeous wife, Pat, who left Bernie to chat with the chaplain and get herself a coffee but instead visited ME and stayed an hour before Bernie discovered her whereabouts! Bless!!

While I will get to personally thank the lovely friends who visited me regularly, this post is my thank you to all of the wonderful 5B staff who were definitely the silver lining in this cloudy patch of my life. If I’ve left anyone’s names out I really do have a very good reason: I’m shocking with names at the best of times, let alone when I’m unwell and on all these drugs!

A warm Big Al thank you to you all… xxx PS I hope I never meet you again (in hospital). I mean that in the nicest possible way ofcourse!

My daughter Elle visited daily & kept my spirits from crashing. She's a NIT (nurse in training) & got to practice her skills on me more than once!

I’ve been in hospital for over a week now. I’m still not sure when I’ll get out. But one thing I do know for sure is that no one will ever refer to me as “that bitch in bed 5″. It sure ain’t no fun being here, but hey, I’m a veteran and over the years I’ve worked out a few things about coping with pain/illness frequent hospital admissions. Want my top tips? I’m glad you asked!

1. Look for any and every opportunity to meet people you would otherwise probably never meet, and to learn something about those people – to listen to some of their story. In hospital you will meet many from so very many different walks of life. The nurses, catering staff, cleaners, student nurses, other patients, their visitors, even some of your more “approachable” new doctors! Ask how they are instead of waiting to be asked how YOU are. The payoff? You’ll make a positive impact and you may even be remembered for being a good listener. After all, isn’t feeling heard a basic human need for everyone?

2. Make a point of NOT pressing that damn buzzer! Ofcourse, it depends on what is actually wrong, but if it’s just for a heat-pack, to remind the nurse about your meds being due, or anything that can possibly wait a bit…resist the urge to press! Another reason to not press? You’re not contributing to all those goddamn alarms going off all night that drive us all batty.

3. Try really hard to not LOOK sick. That means every morning when you have your shower & brush your teeth, at the very least put on a little bit of something on your face! Something, anything! Be it a slick of lippy (preferably light, not bold red or anything OTT), or some gloss, or even just curl your lashes and dab on a bit of concealer under your eyes. It takes less than 2 minutes and I promise you it really does help you feel a little better when you don’t look as crappy as you feel!

4. Use dry shampoo so your hair at least looks kinda clean and fresh when it’s all too hard to keep up your normal hair-maintenance routine.

5. While you’re laid up, see if you can do or say something that will make you feel useful. Something that will make you feel like you still have some ability to be of service to others. If you are able to walk around the ward (we call it doing a few laps), be sure to smile at your neighbours, even stop in for a chat if you/they are up to it.

6. Pay a genuine compliment to someone – a nurse, cleaner ward clerk, orderly, anyone! Do it as often as you can and watch them beam!

7. Thank people. Often and sincerely. For any care, help or kindnesses extended to you or your family while you’re out of action (actually make it something you do even when you’re well!). Never take anyone for granted. Gratitude is a great. It makes others feel good and appreciated and respected. That’s gotta be good for everyone – always.

8. If you have a skill or some advice or tips you can share with those caring for you, share them! I met some lovely people who brought my meals each day. A beautiful young girl called Tegan got chatting with me and as it turned out she has a special event to attend that weekend. I offered to help her with styling tips and she was so excited – it made me feel ten feet tall knowing that even though I’m down, I’m still not “out” and I can still help someone else feel even better, even from my hospital bed!

After all, isn’t that the Style Counsel Golden Rule? “If you want to make yourself feel good, make someone else feel even better!”

Ain't this the truth?!

Yesterday, I raced home from the shops, unpacked groceries, ran around like a chook proceeded to lay out gear out for hubby to quickly slip into when he arrived home from work because we were to attend a function at 3pm. I texted the lovely guest of honour to apologise ahead of time that we’d be late but would get there as soon as hubby arrived home from work. I was almost ready when I got a reply saying “Honey, it’s tomorrow!”. How stupid did I feel? All dressed up with nowhere to go!

My daughter peed herself laughing at the look of disbelief on my face as I read the text. Her friend who’d been sitting on my bed helping me choose which dress to wear etc thought it was hilarious. I too laughed sheepishly. The look on hubby’s face as he arrived home said it all. Clearly He thought I’d lost my marbles. I am such an organised personal (normally). I cannot blame anything or anyone.  The invite was clear. It was on my calendar as Sunday. What made me get it into my head it was on Saturday instead of Sunday?

Take #2. So now I wait. All dressed up (this time hopefully with something to go!) I decided I’d pop in to Twitter as I wait for hubby to arrive home so we can head off to said function. I “tweevesdrop” on a conversation between @liz_baille and @emilyeverywhere admitting to similar blonde moments. One had searched high and low for the new packets of paper-towel only to find them in the fridge. The other admitted to putting her mobile in the fridge! Oh how much better did I feel reading that? @emilyeverywhere can at least blame it on baby brain, but what was my excuse?

What about you? Do you have any tales to share? Blonde-moments? Baby-Brain? Senior moments? Or as my dear friend Michelle who’s just completed chemo for breast cancer says “Chemo Brain?”.  I’d love to hear your stories…In fact I’m sure we all would! Go on make a dumbo like me feel better and tell me you’ve had your share of moments too! Please?

]]> http://styleunzipped.com.au/how-stupid-do-i-feel/feed/ 0 http://styleunzipped.com.au/my-social-media-challenge/ http://styleunzipped.com.au/my-social-media-challenge/#comments Tue, 11 Oct 2011 01:43:29 +0000 atriffett http://styleunzipped.com.au/?p=1645 Continue reading →]]>

Just for one week - Make sure your status updates either Inspire, Inform or Entertain

We’ve all seen a million photos and read a billion Facebook updates of messy Friday night antics and trashy photos of “woo-hoo” girls drinking themselves into early dementia. We’ve all read thousands of random-teaser-type Facebook Status updates that neither inform nor entertain. How about we all start using the power of our own Facebook networks to share more inspirational stories such as these and leave our own quests for 5-minute-fame behind for a bit?!  There’s the challenge! Are you up for it? 

How about sharing a link to inspirational stories about REAL people (like ones I’ve shared with you in the past via this blog) on your own Facebook page so others have a chance to discover what real role-models look like? We all know Gen-Y’s – and many generations above and below (me included!) – love and live on social media. But how about we post more links to more of these types of stories?

Here are some inspirational stories to get you started. Feel free to share!

A story about some real sporting role-models. The kind of guys I’d call “heroes” – not because of a win, but because of the difference they make to the lives of so many: http://styleunzipped.com.au/the-style-counsel-challenge-sporting-heroes-role-models/

A story about Lori Dwyer and her husband Tony. Tony committed suicide, right in front of her. It’s confronting. It’s sad. It’s a story that should be told, and should also be shared: http://www.rrsahm.com/2011/01/ugly.html

“The best way to make yourself feel good is to make someone else feel better” (Alison Triffett) and I guarantee you will inspire and help more people spreading the word about true role models than you will telling us all on Facebook that you’re off for another huge night at the pub!  Try it! You just might like it – and you just might learn a thing or two too, and just may help someone else in need of a bit of inspiration…

If you know of any other other inspirational role-models who don’t get anywhere near the amount of media exposure they deserve, please comment right here on the blog – or contact me. I will do all I can (yep, just little ol’ me!) via my blog, newsletters and website. Let’s all stand up for what we believe in  – I’m passionate about  this! I want to see a shift! I may be only one lone voice, but I don’t care!

As my lovely friend (and another incredibly inspirational role-model) Rebecca Sparrow quotes regularly ”If you think you are too small to make a difference try sleeping with a mosquito.” Dalai Lama

“Dr House is a real pussycat compared to one of my doctors!” I know that’s quite a big call but…

Don’t we all expect a certain level of courtesy; a standard of behaviour; a code of ethics? At the very least, politeness from the people to whom we hand over our hard-earned cash for a service or product, let alone entrust our life/health? Am I being unreasonable therefore, to ask for a certain standard of courtesy – a bedside manner at the very least – from God forbid, a Doctor?

I talk a lot about style and as much about communication-skill styling and the importance of making sure we pay just as much attention to the way we make people feel in our presence as we give to our physical appearance or our immediate surroundings.  So you won’t be shocked to hear of my horror at some of the people-skills (or lack-thereof) I encounter from  medical “professionals”.

Let me introduce you to Dr Ignorme (prounounced “ignore me” *Names have been changed to protect the guilty (ahh, I mean innocent)…

Dr Ignorme initially seemed human. Generally quite personable, in person – in his rooms – on his turf. He hadn’t rushed me. He’d allowed me to ask at least ask a few stupid questions and – most of the time – made me feel heard, or at the very least like a fellow human-being.

The second time I saw Dr Ignorme was also on his turf – albeit in his operating theatre. Enter Dr Jeckyl or Mr Hide – which one, I’m not too sure! I suddenly felt like I was in the twilight zone (and no I hadn’t been drugged – yet!). I worried that perhaps I had been mistaken for another patient, allocated a different doctor and may perhaps wake up having had the wrong procedure performed! He not only appeared to not know or even recognise me, he actually never spoke one word or even acknowledged my presence!  Yep! You got it! Zero eye contact and after barely a brief glance in my general direction I was quickly (and looking back, gratefully) sent to sleep. I decided to put his dismissive bedside manners down to a bad hair day (mind you, he doesn’t have much of that to speak of, so I can’t imagine that that would be the reason?). I reasoned that we all have our off-days and hoped it was just a once-off. Until, that is, a few weeks ago when I found myself again back on his turf – in his operating theatre…

Dr Ignorme waltzes in, sits at his computer (yes, there are computers in operating theatres now!). He commences speaking to “it” before he even looks up to speak to any real person present, let alone and heaven forbid, his patient!  Next, he says “Ghuten morgen” to his theatre nurse. Then “hello” to the anaesthetist. Then he greets two student nurses who have appeared to watch all those tubes being inserted into multiple orifices.

I wait. I hope. No. I pray.  That at least this time – he’ll actually realize that the only person in the operating theatre to whom he’s made NO attempt to connect with is again, indeed me. His patient. The poor soul lying on this cold, hard table with nary a flimsy cloth between his instruments, the table and her dignity. The one about to be knocked out by the aneasthetist whose presence was at least acknowledged. And yes, the very same patient who would also soon be paying (close to all of) their wages! The one who, despite being a veteran of over 27 anaesthetics/procedures, might at least appreciate some sort of acknowledgement of her physical presence?

THIS time I hoped he’d at least make eye-contact and perhaps even cast me a quick smile. THIS time I hoped I’d feel a little less like a piece of meat and more like a person before I was sent off to the land of nod – only to awaken with all manner of contraptions inserted and recording every bit of information they could about what is (or isn’t) working inside my body.

But oh how wrong was I? Who am I to expect so much?

All he said was “So what have we got on under this?” I answered, explaining why I had on what I had on, yet he STILL didn’t make eye-contact or answer me! He merely attached the probes that would stay attached to me for the next 8 hours, and that was it! I went off  into lala-land without so much as a “sleep well”…But it doesn’t end there!

It’s now been over three weeks since the above procedure. I was told he’d phone within 48 hours to give me the results. I always understand and respect how busy these doctors are, so when I didn’t hear from him I even gave him another 4 days before I finally phoned his rooms! I was told he’d call me back. He didn’t. After two more calls/messages left, and three weeks, I’ve decided I have more dignity than to chase him up again. If a doctor who can be so rude to his patients on the operating table can’t even extend the courtesy of returning three calls after three weeks, then he’s certainly not the doctor I want to put in charge of the task of overseeing my (rather complex) condition for years to follow.

I’ll go on the record here. I am a one-doc-woman. I don’t doctor-shop. I’m loyal. I’m a stayer.  I stick with the same docs for life – unless they retire (which is SO unfair, don’t you think?) – UNLESS, that is, their bedside manner or communication skills (like those of Dr Ignorme)  drive me away. Enough said…

No matter what our reasons for expecting (or at least hoping for) more, I do believe there is a basic standard of bedside manners that is not unreasonable to expect. A doctor/patient communication; a level of mutual respect that regardless of how highly intelligent, educated or trained the doctor is, does not excuse such poor social-intelligence? No one, no matter what level of expertise or chosen field, should have the right to treat those under their care like they really don’t care. Surely politeness shouldn’t be considered too much to ask? Surely Dr Ignoreme’s mum brought him up better than that?

What do you think? Am I being unreasonable? Am I being over-sensitive? What would you do in my shoes with a chronic condition that needs treatment/close monitoring? Have you had a similar (or worse) experience with a member of a profession whom you’d hoped would have at least displayed a little more style/class?…

]]> http://styleunzipped.com.au/bedside-manners/feed/ 3 http://styleunzipped.com.au/there-are-some-things-i-just-dont-do/ http://styleunzipped.com.au/there-are-some-things-i-just-dont-do/#comments Wed, 20 Jul 2011 00:25:17 +0000 Alison @ Style Counsel http://stylecounselonline.com.au/blog/?p=1415 Continue reading →]]>

Most of us are afraid of something. Dentists & spiders are mine!

There’s something about me you don’t know. There are many things, actually…

But yesterday I actually went to the dentist. For. The. First. Time. In. 8. Years.
(Before that, it had been 12 years). Get the picture? Yep… I don’t do dentists.

Actually there are many things I just don’t do…

Drugs. Smokes. Spiders. Early mornings. Phones. Strenuous exercise. Diets. Annual Holidays. Sewing. Did I mention spiders?

What I’m alluding to here is that there are some things I don’t do because they simply frighten the crap out of me. And in between are the things I either simply choose NOT to do or don’t GET to do (but would like to!)…

Back to the dentist though. No prizes for guessing that they ALL scare the bejesus out of me. To visit one means it’s also the only time I do choose to do drugs. I HAVE to, just to get me there! I mean, come on…if I require IV sedation for a filling, do you really think I’d be able to show up for a check up without some form of external assistance (i.e. 1/2 a Murelax?).  Funny though (well, not really) that I have endured the removal of more bodily organs than most of you have had baked dinners, and will happily front up for all manner of horrible tests (just look up defaecagram, and you’ll realise I really am one strong lady!) – but when it comes to someone touching my teeth? Uh uh. No way. You can rip my uterus out through my mouth if you like – just don’t touch the teeth!

Am I Just a Big Woos?

I guess you could say I am -  in some ways. Yet in so many other ways I’m pretty tough! In fact, it was because of some of my ongoing health issues that I was forced to recently face my fears again and front back up to my lovely, long-suffering Dentist (let’s call him Greg. Mainly because, aah, that’s his name).

It had only been 8 (yes 8!) years since I’d last visited him. So when I call him “long-suffering” I mean that it’s been a long-time since he had to endure the suffering that is having Big Al sitting (almost) in his big chair telling him “you can look but don’t touch”! Bless. The ever patient/kind Greg and his lovely assistant even actually remembered me after all this time. Well, I ask you. How could they possibly forget me? I do bet they’ve tried though!

As much as I’d avoided this rare visit, I had realized that my life could actually be worse for me than it is at the moment if I didn’t face this fear once more.  I could end up without my beautiful teeth on top of all the the other bits and pieces I no longer own,  and wouldn’t that be adding insult to injury if I could’ve  done something to prevent it? I’d need that  like a hole in the head/tooth, so off I trotted – reluctanctly – to face the music once more.

As it turned out, apart from the preventative measures we’re going to put in place, and replacing a very old filling, my teeth were not as bad as I’d feared they’d be! No holes! Greg said “It’s funny – your fear of me could be the one thing that’s actually saving your teeth! You’re so scared to visit the dentist you look after them so much better!” See? A silver lining! Fear working in my favour (kinda-sorta)!

Now, back to style – ‘cos after all, that’s what I teach/do for a living.

We all have ways of coping with the things we’re afraid of. We all have strengths and weaknesses and we all develop our own coping mechanisms. What’s your style of coping with fears/phobias?  Do you put-off and avoid? Do you admit your fears to others, or do you act big and tough on the outside when inside you’re a quivering mess? Do you seek help, counselling or support from others, or do you just go it alone?

I for one am a big talker. For me a problem shared is a problem halved. I need to get things out. If I bottle up my feelings or fears they always come back and bite me. HARD. I always work hard to look good when I’m feeling like crap (anyone who knows me, knows that’s one of my best coping strategies with chronic illness) but I do find it hard to “fake it ’til I make it” when it comes to pretending I’m not scared, lonely, or sad. I can face my fear of dentists with the help of a quarter of a tablet (a muscle relaxant) for the check-up, and IV sedation for anything past that. I can cope with my fear of spiders by drowning them in so much spray that if they escape before they are squashed to smithereens I at least know they’ll die. I cope with emotional issues by talking things through with trusted kind, understanding friends or professionals. I also distract myself from physical and emotional pain by shifting my focus with humour, good company, and (often) a glass of wine and good food.

So what’s YOUR style of coping? Your greatest fear? Are there some things you “just don’t do”?…I’d love to hear about them!

I'm showing my age, I know. But I really loved Judy and Don. Penny was also one to aspire to...

Just ask anyone who knows me. They’ll tell you. I am very much in touch with my inner dag. So much so, I’ll even pluck up the courage here to share with you a few of my guilty pleasures. Some date waaaay back. Others I continue to enjoy to this day:

• I love Saturday Disney – yes, at my age! More specifically Hannah Montana and Wizards of Waverly Place and even a little of the Jonas Brothers thrown in for good measure!

• I still love watching The Love Boat & I Dream of Jeannie; The Brady Bunch and I used to be avid fan of Nip Tuck!

• I also  love boy bands;  Take That, Five, Backstreet Boys…love ‘em all. And I have some Michael Bolton, Cliff Richard, The Monkees and even a bit of really old Jason Donovan on my iPod!

• I used to play “Lost In Space” in the playground at school. I always made my friends let me be Judy so I could be with Don. And the boy I always made play the part of Don just happened to be the boy I had a huge crush on – devious little thing, wasn’t I?

• In high-school, I was so self-conscious about my skinny ankles (and what I felt were too-big calves, by comparison) that I wore socks under my tights in an effort to make my ankles appear thicker. I secretly envied Olivia Newton John’s legs in that 40′s dance scene with Gene Kelly – Xanadu I think it was?! Yikes!

• I am now forced to buy my jeans in the children’s section of Country Road and Just Jeans, and, unlike many women who love getting all glam for a girls day at the races, I still worry about being frowned upon for being the only person NOT wearing a flower-pot on my head.   SO why am I sharing all this with you? Well you see it’s the perfect segue into what I’m really here to talk to you about…

Tara Castle, Al & Kym Bolger

Yesterday, as a very lucky guest of the beautiful Kym Bolger, I attended the Brisbane Racing Carnival Ladies Luncheon – a super-stylish event in support of Act (Abused Child Trust) sponsored by Channel Seven. The room certainly wasn’t filled with too many dags, but it was great to get to catch up with a few really lovely ex-colleagues (who by the way are anything BUT dags) Sofie Formica, Kay McGrath and Victoria Carthew. The thing is, I was certainly in the minority being one of only a handful of women NOT actually wearing any type of appendage on my head!

Apart from admiring many beautifully clad fillies and admittedly, some amazing hats that would surely have rivaled a certain Princess at a certain Royal Wedding – there was someone at this luncheon who really stood out for me as the epitome of style. So much so, I had to go up to her and ask if I could take her photograph. Her name is Bernadette Cooper. She’s a jockey. She was interviewed by Victoria Carthew and had a great story to share along with a personal style all of her own.  She doesn’t yet know this, but I’m also hoping to interview her soon – as Style Counsel’s Person of Great Style – but more on Bernadette in another blog; soon I hope.

Me with Jockey Bernadette Cooper who has true style - dressing to suit her personality and the occasion!

Self-confessed "fan of the fascinator", Tara wears it well!

“Keep it Real” and of course stylish!

It’s probably because of my need to “keep it real” that I’m certainly not considered your average Stylist.  Sure, I may teach all about image and etiquette and know how to put a look together in my sleep, BUT I’m not a follower of fashion as many would expect. In fact the dress I wore to the above event is approx 4 yrs old (maybe more). And shock, horror! My jacket is at least 6yrs old and on the rare occasions I attend glamorous events, I am quite likely to be wearing the very same dress! Yes! Me! A stylist! Wearing something that’s not designer label AND more than once!

I may be a Personal Stylist but I really don’t have a 100 cocktail dresses to choose from.  I really do have a capsule wardrobe, specially when it comes to playing dress-ups! I do admit though that I have a LOT of shoes and bags and these are what often get me through many style-dilemma’s cause by last-minute special-event invitations!

In the world of Fashion, I guess I’m somewhat different. Not because of my taste or fashion choices but because I actually don’t really “care” that much about Fashion per se. That’s why I emphasise some words in my job description, title and business name: PERSONAL. STYLIST. And the word COUNSEL isn’t a typo either! It actually describes exactly what I do. I style people and I counsel them on how to achieve confidence with their wardrobe and feel beautiful instead of being a slave to fashion and worrying about what’s in or out.

So  next time you receive an invitation to a special occasion, stop. Take a breath, and…

Think about what you already have in your wardrobe.

Think about what you can do to an existing outfit (if it still fits and you still love it, and it’s truly classic there will be many things you can do to breath new life into it and give it an update).

Think about who you are, and what you feel comfortable in.

There are a few rules – dress-codes – that should always be adhered to (see my last few blogs on fascinators and dressing up in winter) but the key is that you pay particular attention to your own style personality. Bugger what everyone else is doing! Wear what makes YOU feel great. Anything worn with confidence always looks more stylish than something that is in the height of fashion but makes you feel ridiculous because it just isn’t you!

Sofie Formica is anything BUT a dag and looks great in a fascinator!

Sofie interviewing Rebecca & Luke (Ruby & Romeo from Home & Away)

To raise money for the Official Charity of the Channel Seven Brisbane Racing Carnival, ACT for Kids, a collection of celebrity designed and styled millinery will be auctioned from June 4 through until June 10 2011.  All proceeds raised from the auction will be donated to ACT for Kids. Formerly known as the Abused Child Trust, Act for Kids is an Australian charity which works to treat and prevent child abuse and neglect, and the ever-stylish, beautiful inside and out, Kay McGrath is also their ambassador. Perhaps you’d like to bid on Kay McGrath’s fascinator? Or Sofie’s? Or Sharon Ghidella’s? Or Kimberley Busteed’s? or Jillian Whiting’s or Liz Cantor’s? If so, take a look at all the celebrity’s fascinators here and find out how Brisbane Racing Carnival is making a very stylish difference, supporting ACT for Kids.

So back to confessions. Are you courageous enough to admit some of your own daggy moments/obsessions? Past or present? Come on! It’s quite cleansing -  I promise not to judge you!

Some days are white. Others, black. This proved to be one of my blacker ones!

It was just another one of those days…You know the type? You drag your sorry butt out of bed at 8am on a Sunday after falling into a fitful sleep at around 4am.  You suspect you should probably stay in bed ’til 12, but you get up anyway. Why? “Because you still have SO much to do!”

You quickly begin to wonder why you did get up. Instinctively you just KNOW it will be better for all concerned if you’d just stayed in bed and given in to the fatigue…

Well this particular Sunday was just that kinda’ day for me. After a rough few days (another attack of Trigeminal Neuralgia if you really want to know) I’d remained wide-eyed all night – well at least until last check of the clock at 4am. And it all went downhill from there really…

I looked (and sure felt) like the wreck of the Hesperus after less than 4 hours sleep, but hey, they pain in my face was at least down to about 5 out of 10 so you gotta be grateful for that, right?

I raced to answer the phone on my 5th trip back to the loo, promptly screamed to my friend Di that  “I’ll have to call you back!” but alas I never got to. You see, mid-iphone-software-upgrade while checking emails before meeting Judy at my local Sushi Train, I realised I didn’t really have time,  so promptly disconnected my phone from computer mid-sync. That then meant I lost all data, couldn’t call Di back on my way out, and had to do a full restore which took ages (but that’s a whole other story!).

I had a run in with a train! Literally!

I raced into the Sushi Train, debriefed, caught up, laughed, cried with my old friend Judy. Then – as it often does when I eat – the loo beckoned again, and as usual it wasn’t going to wait for anyone! I threw $30 at Judy saying I’d meet her either back at the counter (allowing her time to finish her green tea) OR outside the ladies on the lower floor. BUT that’s where it all went sushi-shaped. 15 seconds later I found myself examining at very close range, a concrete floor. I guess you could say I was hit by a train – a Sushi Train. And a concrete one at that!

Embarrassed, having  flashed black lacy knickers to the lovely man who (apparently) helped me up (I don’t know – I’ve blocked the whole thing from my memory. But Judy tells me he was cute and did get a good view of my bum!) I returned home, too sore & stiff to complete my other planned tasks for this busy Sunday and finally admitted defeat.

How Twitter brightened my day…

Now,  the Sunday Mail had written a great little article  about my Fashion For Flood Relief Fundraiser and it went to press this morning. I had a number of things I just knew I had to stay on top of before a mammoth week ahead. Sore and sorry, I just had to soldier on. I vented (as I often do) on Twitter (gosh, my kids certainly don’t want to hear my rants!) and a few wonderful Tweeps commented back and made me feel just a little less pathetic. Comments from…

@MolksTVTalk advising me to just “have a drink”  and be grateful I had my good knickers on!

@funsizejaney telling me to “look after myself” Bit late I reckon! And as I had run into her as I walked into the Sushi Train I reckon she may have actually jinxed me!

@annieb25 DM’d me and hugged me via twitter -  told me I’ve got to really listen to my body more. She’s so right dammit. She always is!

@liz_baillie supported me with her insight & sensitivity knowing how much we often smile with inside we’re crying

@cheeschuckers @minxyferret @babysgotstyle2 @nicky_lavigne @readupsidedown  @ sue_perry69 - all of them helped me out of my Sunday funk; my weekend haze.

Then I got a call from @mskymOg (bless her!) and I somehow clawed my way back up. She’s great like that. I need a good manager. She is the BEST!

The reason I am sharing this story is  NOT so you feel sorry for me. It IS to remind us all of this….

Shit happens. It’s how we deal with the crap that shows our true style!

We are all human. We all can only do so much. If we push ourselves too far, life, and/or our bodies will quickly let us know that we’ve overstepped our mark. We must tune in to those triggers. NO one can function at optimal levels on 4 hours sleep, in pain, with no fuel in the tank. NO one can deal with chronic health issues, cranky adult children, a husband, ailing cat, a demanding job, financial pressures, a fundraiser and NOT ask for some help. Yet this is what I was doing; pretending I could do it all alone.  I am not superwoman. I am just Big Al. Plain and simple.  My life is far from perfect. I am far from perfect.

When you ask “how are you?” do you really want to hear the answer? I mean really?

If you don’t want the truth, try this. Don’t ask! Just say “G’day”! If you really want to connect with someone, and you really give a damn (as real friends do) then perhaps you will have the courage to ask how I am and actually stick around for an honest reply. I promise I won’t ask or expect you to do anything to help me in return. I will just be grateful that you gave me 30 seconds of air-time. Just enough time to answer your question honestly and to say “I may not be ‘fine’ but I’ll be OK.

It is because I have people in my life who give a damn that I cope. People like you who ask the question and actually really do want to hear the response. Even if just for 60 seconds before I throw to you and ask how you are – because that’s what stylish people do! Stylish people don’t hog a conversation talking all about themselves. They know that a conversation is  a dialogue, not a monologue. They share. They give. They care. About others. I’m really good at caring for others… I just need to learn how to do it better when it comes to caring for myself!….

OK…so I’m a work in progress…aren’t we all?

Look out Monday. Big Al is comin’ to get ya!

Now. How are YOU? Drop me a line – I promise I will listen to your answer!