A very dear friend of mine turns 40 this week. We met when we were in our twenties, hard at the PR coal face, regularly clocking in 12-14 hour days (hang on, why hasn't that changed?!) dreaming up crazy PR stunts...we were the very epitome of work hard, play hard. In our agency gang the dreaded communal carpark 'walk of shame' was a regular occurrence - it was no surprise to see someone turn up sheepishly at their desks in yesterday's or last night's clothes.
Our regular Friday night happy hour in the bar under our office (think Ally McBeal but less annoying) also meant that it was no surprise to find yourself on a dancefloor, at 3am, still dressed in your work suit.
They were heady, heady days.
As lives and jobs changed, our friendship didn't. We might not have been crying in the work toilets or throwing up in the carpark together (mainly stress, sometimes hangovers) but we were always joined together spiritually.
It seems inconceivable that said friend is turning 40 - aside from looking fabulous and easily ten years younger than her birth certificate, it also seems like just 5 minutes ago that we were muntering our way around the Miami Winter Music Conference, throwing ourselves onto dance floors, gatecrashing pool parties and dj booths with abandon.
And yet that was ten years ago.
I still have a few years (honest!) before I reach the same milestone, but it has made me a little reflective nonetheless. I'd like to think that with the advent of fabulous skincare (most of which I've been taking advantage of since my teens - thanks mum!) and some good genes, the ageing process shouldn't be too horrendous. But there's no escaping that inside, I still feel like the footloose and fancy free crazy twenty-something I once was.
The beauty of living in Dubai, is that you can indulge that on quite a regular basis. It feels like a young person's city and is abuzz with social misbehaving every night of the week, should you wish to partake (we do!).
So there seems only real way to avoid any 40th birthday malaise: make sure you celebrate it in my fair city! You're welcome any time, Birthday Bird xxx
Our regular Friday night happy hour in the bar under our office (think Ally McBeal but less annoying) also meant that it was no surprise to find yourself on a dancefloor, at 3am, still dressed in your work suit.
They were heady, heady days.
As lives and jobs changed, our friendship didn't. We might not have been crying in the work toilets or throwing up in the carpark together (mainly stress, sometimes hangovers) but we were always joined together spiritually.
It seems inconceivable that said friend is turning 40 - aside from looking fabulous and easily ten years younger than her birth certificate, it also seems like just 5 minutes ago that we were muntering our way around the Miami Winter Music Conference, throwing ourselves onto dance floors, gatecrashing pool parties and dj booths with abandon.
And yet that was ten years ago.
I still have a few years (honest!) before I reach the same milestone, but it has made me a little reflective nonetheless. I'd like to think that with the advent of fabulous skincare (most of which I've been taking advantage of since my teens - thanks mum!) and some good genes, the ageing process shouldn't be too horrendous. But there's no escaping that inside, I still feel like the footloose and fancy free crazy twenty-something I once was.
The beauty of living in Dubai, is that you can indulge that on quite a regular basis. It feels like a young person's city and is abuzz with social misbehaving every night of the week, should you wish to partake (we do!).
So there seems only real way to avoid any 40th birthday malaise: make sure you celebrate it in my fair city! You're welcome any time, Birthday Bird xxx
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| Munters til we die! |
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