Oh! The places you’ll go!

On the 22^nd on July this year I will be graduating from Lancaster University, with (hopefully) a very well respected and highly fought for BA (Hons) in English Literature.

Being an organisational freak, I had my post-graduation plans lined up sometime around Christmas. I plan to spend three months au pairing in Rome before moving to London and beginning a journalism diploma in January. My soon-to-graduate friends, the majority of whom are just finishing arts and humanities degrees, are also close to sealing the deal on their 2011-12 plans. Some are preparing for further education (art conversion years, MAs in 19^th Century literature), some are doing the interview rounds (graduate scheme in recruitment consultancy, anyone?), some are sending off CVs in abundance and hoping for a positive response to plop into their inboxes in the near future. Those who had seemed reluctant to start the job hunt, citing too much pressing coursework, the overwhelming amount of choice, etc, are starting to get there.

Obviously, my friends and I are not alone in this situation.  We will be graduating alongside close to half a million others (the 335,000 graduating with undergraduate degrees in 2010 looks set to rise this year, and that’s only in the UK), and the competition for graduate jobs is fierce.

These kinds of jobs, though, are unlikely to be for everyone. I’ve known for years that they wouldn’t be the way I’d be going after July 2011. Two years tied down to the sales and administration department at Aldi HQ? Eighteen months in Milton Keynes at the Argos Head Office, sourcing the best type of lawnmower? Graduate schemes don’t sound all that inspiring to me, despite the obvious perks and pay that would come with working for a huge company.

In October last year a graduate fair visited Lancaster, and I had the chance to discuss my future career plans with a BBC journalist. He told me that the best advice he could give would be to ignore the wonderful guidance of the careers office. Why? Because a university’s worth is measured on how many of its students are in graduate employment six months after trotting across the stage in their gowns, not by how fulfilled they are by the choice they’ve made.

(Oh! The places you’ll go! Bradford for the Morrisons graduate training scheme, heading up the frozen food marketing division? Dr Seuss will be turning in his grave).

Essentially, following the advice given by the careers office will cut you off from all those things that make graduation so exciting –not having a firm plan, the ability to travel anywhere in the world, the chance to discover what it really is that you are passionate about and want to spend your life pursuing.

So it’s a good job that there are countless other options.

1.       Mailing lists. Free mailing lists can be a godsend for those creative types with no real plans and a flair for freelance. The best is offered by Arts Council England, which regularly fills my inbox with job adverts for everything from writers and artists to models and actresses, to marketing officers, to theatrical wardrobe supervisors.

Best for... artistic/ theatrical jobs.

2.       Work experience. If you haven’t had any work experience whilst at university you’ve missed a good opportunity, but never fear. There is always time, and it is almost certain that a few persuasive letters will get you a placement somewhere. The low point is that it’s likely to be unpaid; the high point is that you’ll make contacts that could potentially lead into a job.

Best for... any company based job.

3.       Interning. Bigger companies are likely to take on graduates for longer than a few days, and if you can find an internship you are on the way to securing a job with the company. All you have to do is impress.

Best for... magazine journalism.

4.       Conversion course. It might be now, just as you are finishing your degree, that you realise your passion lies in a different area. Every year people graduate with history/ science/ psychology degrees and go on to become successful lawyers. Well, why not?

Best for... professional careers.

5.       Volunteer... in England. There are thousands of charities in this country that are vying for talented graduates to come on board and support them, even if it’s only for a few hours a week. Aside from the personal satisfaction, what could look better on a CV than time out spent helping others?

Best for... charity sector jobs.

6.       Volunteer... abroad. The amount of companies offering the chance to work abroad –in conservation, teaching, orphanage building, the list goes on– is massive. A few weeks or months out can offer a whole new perspective, as well as giving you the chance to see a completely different part of the world.

Best for... those with the travel bug.

7.       TEFL. Teaching English as a Foreign Language is something that can be done with any degree, and can mean travel all over the world. TEFL qualifications are offered by an abundance of companies and can be a perfect stop-gap before you decide exactly what it is you want to do.

Best for... any native English speaker.

8.       Roles within the SU. For a lot of students taking on a role within the Student’s Union can be a good way to hone skills before tackling the job market. There are huge numbers of perks –you can immerse yourself in debate and democracy, probably live rent free in halls, and keep the security of university for another year.

Best for... political careers.

9.       Moving abroad. How many of us know friends who will be finishing years abroad this summer? My guess is a lot. Ask them to keep an eye open for bar jobs and rooms free close to where they live. Then move out for six months. Take the plunge. What have you got to lose?

Best for... the carefree.

10.   Au pairing. The chance to experience a completely new place, with a salary and somewhere to live thrown in? The security of living with a family? The ease at which au pair placements can be organised means hundreds of graduates take up the opportunity every year.

Best for... those with experience of working with children.

No flowers... just trees?

8.00 – 9.30am

BBC on form... go.

Sophie Rayworth’s orange dress is enough to induce nausea at this time in the morning. ‘I’ve got the best position of ALL the presenters,’ she tells us modestly. ‘Look where I’m sat! Above the ACTUAL door to Westminster Abbey, yeah, the West Door. I’m the most important presenter the BBC has. HA.’ Cackle.

Fearne Cotton appears to be in charge of proceedings, interviewing starstruck teenage boys and the like.  Best friend Edith Bowman, banished to the far reaches of Scotland, has got a hump on at her perfunctory position at St Andrews and is donning some sort of 1950s vintage dress creation –and a ponytail. I feel tension ensuing.

Meanwhile, BBC newbie Alex Jones (stationed in the Berkshire sticks) is just happy to be involved.

Just after 9am, and Kate’s Rolls Royce arrives at the Goring –nearly 2 hours early. What is the driver thinking? It’s enough to make a girl STRESSED. The Rolls Royce pulls up in the wrong place, and the driver, realising he’s got a while to sit around until 9 minutes to 11, nips around the corner for a cuppa and a bacon sandwich. Updates his Tweets whilst walking: ‘got there early, woop! Lol. Off to Costa.’

A Canadian woman is getting interviewed by Fearne. ‘I came to England when I was 13,’ she says. ‘I hoped to meet Diana, but I never did. Here is my baby, she’s 9 months old –I’ve kept her up all night in the cold.’ Questions arise over her sanity, and whether general American stupidity has reached her through cross-border osmosis.

Tara Palmer-Tomkinson has arrived in a very pointy hat. She could take someone’s eye out with that.

Victoria and David Beckham arrive. Vic is wearing a navy blue dress that she has apparently designed herself. It would be a stretch to call it interesting. The best part is the fascinator that looks like it’s about to slip off her forehead. What is the badge that David’s wearing? Feel that mini Beckhams might be missing out.

Hugh Edwards believes that the advent of Becks and co. in Westminster Abbey is ‘incongruous’. They’re off to sit in the knave. Yeah, plebs.

9.30 – 11am

Earl Spencer arrives. Mother wonders why he is there, before realising he is Wills’ uncle.

Wondering what would happen if the Archbishop of Canterbury died before the ceremony...? The plans would be thrown into absolute flux.

Davis Cameron is interviewed, in Downing Street. Presumably SamCam is inside, putting the finishing touches to the cakes she’s made for the ‘street party’ they’re throwing. The question ensues: who’s going to go...?

Fiona Bruce is interviewing good old Boris. She tells him she’s never seen him look so smart. Boris looks flummoxed. ‘Yes,’ he eventually says. ‘Well... what did you expect?’ It’s a good question, really.

Speaker John Bercow and his wife Sally are spied in the Abbey. Don’t take any pictures Sal, yeah?

TV presenter Dan Snow is sat down. His wife has a witch’s hat on.

John Major is the only former Prime Minister attending, in his role as Guardian of Wills’ since his mother’s death. He’s off to sit with the other Knights of the Garter. Lovely.

Still wondering why there are trees lining the knave. Something to do with reliability, or growth, or endurance. Flowers would have looked less bizarre.

Cute story of the morning so far: Colin, generic spectator, tells the camera how he met his wife in the same spot on the Mall on the day of Charles and Diana’s wedding, and now he’s come back with his daughters. Good old Colin. His daughters look embarrassed.

Commentary offered from Alex Miller: ‘Is the Queen rich? Do Prince Charles and people, like, have their own cars or do they just get driven everywhere in SUVs?’ Cue images of Charles plodding down the Mall in a Mini Cooper.

SamCam and Call Me Dave have arrived. SamCam is wearing a pretty emerald dress and a nice necklace. Looking good, but isn’t she stressed out about the fairycakes she’s left in the oven for the Downing Street street party?

Tension is building –Wills is about to leave Clarence House with Harry. It’s the first significant thing we’ll see (sorry Beckhams).

‘London is good,’ says Alex Miller. Brilliant.

Still waiting for Wills. One of the Mall observers is dressed as Dame Edna Everidge. Why?

William is emerging. He’s in his army uniform, which is red. Harry is in his Blues and Royals uniform, very smart. Wave wave.

Alex Miller: ‘William wants to get there 25 minutes early, so he can chill with his homies. When does this programme finish?’

A few seconds later: ‘It’s a nice car. I like that there’s a crown on top of it. Is Harry going to get married?’

Mother, as Wills gets out of the car onto the red carpet: ‘There was a man hoovering that carpet earlier.’

The King of Tonga has turned up now, as have Prince Albert of Monaco and the Serbian Royal Family. Carole and James Middleton have set off, but we can’t see into their Jaguar. Carole is taking notes for her book, provisionally entitled ‘The Middleclass Guide to Greasy Pole Climbing:  How We Pulled Off The Biggest Blinder Of All Time’. She is wearing a ‘sky blue wool crape dress’. Sounds nice. Couldn’t catch the designer.  

Princess Maxima of the Netherlands has arrived. Mother chokes on her cereal, then wonders why anyone would call their child ‘Maxima’, and whether she has a sister called ‘Minima’.

Minor royals are arriving in BUSES! What? This is bizarre. Was there a car cancellation at the last minute, or did they just call 020 Westminster Cabs? No one seems to know which royals it actually is that are deemed ‘minor’ enough to catch the minibus.

Carole Middleton and her son are entering the Abbey. The dress is by Catherine Walker. ‘It fits beautifully,’ says the commentary. ‘The hat isn’t too big.’

Shock moment just picked up on: SamCam has no hat! WTF. Travesty.

The Dukes and Duchesses of Wessex and York, as well as Princesses Beatrice and Eugenie, are on their way. The un-regal royals are piling out of the minibuses now. No one helped them with the doors.

The Prince of Wales and Camilla are coming now. Camilla is royal waving.

THE QUEEN IS ON HER WAY. She’s wearing yellow, like a buttercup. Alex Miller would like to know if the Queen and Phil have been married for 100 years yet?

Bridesmaids Lady Louise Windsor, Camilla’s granddaughter Eliza Lopes, Margarita Armstrong-Jones and Grace Van Cutsum (spelling?) have set off from the Goring Hotel. Cute.

‘Philip is very good at pulling all-nighters,’ says some woman. ‘I know him well.’ Really?

It turns out Queenie and Phil have been married for 63 years.

Camilla’s dress is by Anna Valentine, who also designed her wedding outfit, royal fashion fans.

On the way, Queenie tells Phil, ‘Please, do not saying anything inappropriate, please please please...’

The Queen has got out of the car. It looks like her and the Dean of Westminster have co-ordinated on outfits. Hers is apparently an ‘Angela Pelly Primrose dress’. Medieval fanfare ensues as she enters the Abbey.

First glimpse of Kate! She’s made it into the Rolls Royce with Daddy Middleton, and is now on her way. Her dress is white and lacy, shockingly, and she’s got her hair down. But who designed the dress?

The bridesmaids arrive with Pippa Middleton, who is looking all slinky.

Just a couple of minutes to go before we see Kate’s dress in full, and find out who designed it.

NEWSFLASH: The dress has been designed by Sarah, Creative Director at Alexander McQueen. It’s ivory and lace and looks quite vintagey-timeless. Kate could be a 1950s bride.


11.00-12.30pm

Michael Middleton looks extremely chuffed as he deposits Kate at the altar. Carole looks like she might be welling up.

Onto the first hymn, and the Queen doesn’t look like she’s too into the singing.

Alex Miller, during the hymn: ‘It’s a bit like Songs of Praise...’

Massive drama for a second there, thought the ring wasn’t going to go on! Oh, the chaos!

*....Vows....*

(The Archbishop of Canterbury could’ve combed his hair for the occasion. Oh, it’s ok –he’s put his hat back on, must’ve realised).

Kate and Wills trot to the side and James Middleton does his reading from Romans.

The Bishop of London does some talking. Throws a bit of Chaucer in, nice cultural touch. Kate hitches her chair closer to Wills, who looks bored beyond belief.

Why have all the choir boys got matching glasses? Specsavers group discount?

...And why does the Queen look so glum?

Pippa Middleton heads to the front of the Abbey, to act as witness to the signing of the marriage register. Wills, Kate et al witnesses are moving into the Chapel of St. Edward the Confessor, which I’m told has been a shrine since medieval times. The signing is the only private part of the wedding.

I hope everyone is aware that this music was selected by Kate, from Charles’ IPod. I’m not kidding.

Zara Phillips’ hat has just appeared on screen, as has Princess Beatrice’s. Ridiculous. Mother observes, ‘Eugenie’s done ok.’ Hat-wise.

Also: ‘They have definitely ALL been to Specsavers.’

Wills and Princess Catherine (I think this is what one would prefer to be called now?) are about to emerge from the Chapel. Charles and Camilla have already left... massive fanfare, since they are now officially Heir Apparent and Wife.

Don’t trip coming down the steps, Catherine.

The 2 youngest bridesmaids appear to have disappeared...?

Still envying Kate’s tiny tiny waist as she walks down the aisle.

Mother, on Prince Harry: ‘He could’ve done with a haircut too... looking a bit fluffy... Chelsey’s going to be jealous... if Wills isn’t careful he’s going to stand on that dress, and get the first bollocking of his married life...’

Bridesmaids Grace and Eliza rejoin the wedding party as Kate and Wills leave the Abbey.

Carriage rolls up just in time, and Wills puts his hat on. Now it looks like he has hair!

Wondering where they’re going to go? Down the pub for a slop dinner and a pint? Pie and peas? Bit o’ cava, push the boat out?

Michael Middleton is from Leeds, so probably.

Procession is now underway; Kate and Wills in their 1902 State Landau with the Household Cavalry, on their way to Parliament Square –according to Hugh Edwards.

Crowds are going flag-waving mental.

12 troopers of the Blues and Royals are accompanying the couple as they trot along, all smiley.

Queenie and Phil are getting in their wonky carriage –it looks like one of the wheels has fallen off. You would think they’d have MOT’d it.

BBM from Leeks: ‘Are you enjoying the royal wedding? It all makes me HAPPY J’.

Royal procession has reached the Mall, with Prince H looking after the bridesmaids and pageboys in their carriage. Scary. Looks like they’re having a nice day out, says Hugh Edwards.

The new Duke and Duchess of Cambridge (and their collected families) are about to reach Buckingham Palace.

Alex Miller: ‘Did Obama go?’

I feel that he wasn’t invited. Awkward.

Wills and Kate have gone inside now, for their pie and peas and cava, before the official photographs. Massively hyped kiss on balcony will be in an hour. Kate better top up her lipgloss.

Meanwhile, back at Westminster Abbey, the buses are coming back to pick up the unimportant members of the royal family. Glam.

Carole and Michael Middleton have entered Buckingham Palace, conspiring over what they can do with Pippa now. That spectacle can’t really be topped, sorry Pip.

Fearne is back, interviewing some random children. They’ve got a packed lunch of sandwiches, but they couldn’t see the dress. They think it might have been white...? Really?!

Everyone is waiting for the kiss, now.

Photographs are to be taken in the throne room, as soon as all 650 guests have arrived there for the reception.

12.30-2pm

Some American children are teaching presenter Matt how to curtsey. They have also given him a hat, which they made themselves. How kind.

Spectators are now being accompanied from Westminster Abbey and The Mall to Buckingham Palace for the Balcony Moment.

Blackberry beeps: ‘I want to give Harry a right royal seeing to’, it says. Eek. Someone’s getting a bit too excited.

Back to Edith now, banished in the wilds of Scotland in her massive skirt. She’s having a cocktail and talking to Kate and Wills’ old lecturers. Hugh Edwards tells her to calm down, which is pretty rude... she’s fairly calm, considering she’s been stationed 351 miles away from the action.

The crowd are SURGING towards Buckingham Palace. They look like they’re on wheels. One of the crowd is a man dressed as a knight, who tells Fearne he has walked sixty miles to the capital, setting off on St. George’s Day, to raise money for a children’s hospice in Sussex. Fearne makes a comment about her heels being painful enough, then St. George wanders off to rejoin the revellers. Good luck!

Presenter Matt is in Hyde Park, talking to a woman who is wearing a ‘recycled costume, from when I was Geri in the Spice Girls’. Indeed. Elsewhere, Hugh Edwards spies a tiny bridesmaid peeping out of the balcony windows of Buckingham Palace.

They’re out! The Royal couple appears on the balcony with their families, and 3 year old bridesmaid Grace Von Cutsem puts her hands over her ears. Kate checks that she’s ok. The couple kiss twice, and some crazy revellers jump in the fountain. (They’ll regret that later, when they have to get back on the Tube). Prince Charles carries step-grandaughter Eliza Lopes as the Lancaster Bombers pass over the Palace... and Grace still has her hands over her ears.

When is Kate going to throw her bouquet?

Back in the crowd, presenter Chris is talking to a hat designer. The hat-creation in question includes ‘the toothbrush of a person who used to push Prince William’s pram.’

I wish I was making this up.

And just like that, Queenie decides that the balcony presentation is over, and everyone disappears! That’s it! Bloody hell, what a performance. Clearly Queenie just couldn’t wait for her pie and chips and cava.

18th March

Getting increasingly excited about my trip to Paris, which it now less than a month away... also vaguely thinking about my wardrobe, which although reflecting the supreme quality of Topshop and River Island at their mediocre best is hardly likely to live up to anything that a Parisian femme might have to offer. Luckily Glamour magazine sent its style-wise fashion reporters out onto the streets of Paris during fashion week, where they tracked down a host of sartorially elegant (and occasionally affordably dressed) locals. My favourite is Parisian blogger Clementine  –I love everything about her outfit! Here it is shamelessly stolen from the Glamour website:

5th February

I’ve just watched Sun, Sea and Suspicious Parents and I almost couldn’t believe what I was seeing –not from the kids, who have been massively exploited without even suspecting it by television bosses, but from their supposedly responsible parents.

After following her 18-year-old daughter to Zante and subsequently being found out, the mother in question declared that she would be forgiven, and that if her daughter was in any way mature she wouldn’t even be upset.

Well, I think the fact that her daughter did forgive her was amazingly naive.

The kids on this programme are 17 and 18; they are applying to university and in a few years they’ll be on the graduate job market. How can it possibly be ok that when they get to this stage in their lives they won’t be able to forget their drunken, sun-induced teenage behaviour?

Quick illustrative point: Last year a trainee teacher was thrown off her course because a drunken photograph of her dressed as a pirate appeared on Facebook. It was deemed inappropriate, in her profession. A few years ago I read about a woman, again a teacher, who had made a suggestive video before she had ever decided which job she was going to go into –and when it came to light she too was fired.

Most people have done messy things at the age of 18, and being on holiday is almost certainly a situation where things get out of hand. But for most of us the only thing that we need to do is destroy the evidence –and generally this means detagging a few Facebook pictures. The video footage of Jen drinking out of a stranger’s waistband is going to be on YouTube for years. It will still be there when the rest of us, whose parents didn’t deliberately condone our drunken antics being posted all over the mass media, have been able to forget.

Aside from the ethical implications, what kind of teenage boy is going to behave naturally whilst faced by a camera crew and the knowledge that his friends at home are certainly going to be watching? Girls might monitor their behaviour, but boys are almost certainly going to put on an act. And what teenager is going to pass up a free holiday, if a TV crew offers it them? The footage isn’t even a valid representation of how they would’ve acted if they’d simply been allowed to go on holiday uninterrupted. Any 17-year-old with an AS level in psychology could tell you that, so why haven’t the parents realised it?

Jen et al should have been allowed to act like teenagers on holiday without it being splashed forever across BBC3 and IPlayer. There are some things that parents have absolutely no reason to see –and why on earth would they want to?

This is the worst kind of TV.

9th January...

5 reasons to be excited for 2011...

1.       Graduation. Yes, between July the 18^th and 22^nd (date to be confirmed in February, natch), most of us will be donning ridiculous hats and capes, and tripping up onto the Great Hall stage to collect our degrees from the mysterious Vice Chancellor. Does this sound Harry Potter-esque to anyone else? (as a side note, who is the Vice Chancellor? What does he actually do? I’ve been at Lancaster for two and a half years and I still don’t know). I’m hoping that in six months time we will also have sorted our lives out and will all have stable plans, for the following couple of months at least. But I doubt it. Ho hum.

2.       Tate and Tennant. From June to September, the brilliant Catherine Tate and David Tennant will be taking the roles of Beatrice and Benedick in a Wyndam’s Theatre production of Much Ado About Nothing. This is very exciting times for us Shakespeare/ theatre geeks, so here is the link to the BBC story on it - http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-12134635

3.       Moving to London. At the end of the year I’ll be moving to London to take up my place on my journalism diploma with News Associates. The thought of this fills me with terror and lots of happiness ...Ainscough and I are currently recruiting housemates, apply via Facebook =)

4.       Finally handing in the dissertation. I cannot explain how happy I’ll be when m y 10,000 words are finally over with. This is all I’ll say on the matter.

5.       I may take up painting. This is not a New Year’s Resolution, because I’ve never been a huge fan of those. It’s just something I thought about today, whilst looking at my festive photographs and wondering if I could recreate them. So I’m not committing myself. In fact, I’ll probably never get round to it... unless someone buys me an easel, paints and canvas.

One of the many things that makes me rant is pointless fads, and the people who follow them seemingly blindfold without giving a second thought to what they actually mean.

In the last 48 hours, I have on numerous occasions been asked to change my Facebook profile picture to a cartoon. Why? This morning I was asked again, by one of my closest friends. ‘Have you changed your profile picture to a cartoon character?’ she bbm-ed. ‘No,’ I replied. ‘Why?’ Her response was ‘Do it, everyone else has. It’s for the NSPCC.’ But what was it actually going to do? After a long pause, the answer was exactly as I had expected: ‘I have no idea.’

Same friend, later in the day: ‘Change your profile picture. Do you realise you’re the only human on my Facebook chat?’

I quick tally of my ‘friends’ revealed that 197 out of 600-odd had replaced their own faces with those of lion cubs, Disney princesses, animated woodland creatures, mythical fairies, evil ogres, etc. Cute and nostalgic? Of course. Anything whatsoever to do with charity? Well...

The main question is, how many of these people are actually going to do anything of merit, after changing their identification pictures to Tigger, Cinderella, SpongeBob , et al? I would even go as far as saying that it is insulting to the NSPCC, which does such important work –because those who are urging others to change their pictures and then failing to actually meaningfully support the charity are almost giving an entirely different message than they wish:

‘Yeah, I know, child cruelty is terrible. We should STAMP IT OUT... yeah. What’s that, set up a standing order? What, money coming out of my bank account? Well, I would, but... £10 per month, seriously? That’s almost a night out, I don’t really think... I know, let’s all change our profile pictures to childhood cartoon characters instead, this perfunctory act will definitely buy an abused child safe overnight shelter! I support the NSPCC! ’

This meaningless act of changing profile pictures means nothing at all –if you actually care about the cause you’re saying you support, you WILL do something concrete about it.

Money comes out of my bank account every month for Cancer Research UK, I’ve given up my Saturdays for the Oxfam Bookshop and helped to build an orphanage in Africa and led Rainbow units for 7 years. So don’t try to pin me down as not being interested in charity, just because I’m not jumping onto your meaningless bandwagon.

Simply raising awareness means very little post James Bulger, Victoria Climbie and Peter Connolly. We all know about the horrific things that happen in this world, so instead of indulging in pointless fads, act.

Of course, those who donate money or time to the NSPCC and have changed their profile pictures to cartoon characters should feel proud of what they are doing. Everyone else, however, should be ashamed of themselves.

On second thoughts, maybe I’ll change my picture to the Grinch.