Real talk with JoJo

This here little blog is all about story telling, sharing moments of candour, not just my own but those of the people who inspire me the most. And while I adore all the those beautiful women out there keeping it real on the gram (here's looking at you @jetsetmama and @adrienelouise) I thought I would kick off this #realtalk by introducing you to the women who I've known for a lifetime and who inspire my every single day with their tenacity and zesty outlook on life. 

So, without further ado, may I introduce Johanna Borger aka JoJo aka JB (but not to be confused with J-Beibs). A million miles away from home and living her best life in London town this girl has a magical way with words, whimsy and just about anything else in life really. 

How would you describe yourself in one word?

Unpredictable.

What's the best thing about living in London?

It’s a paradox, but what I like about London is that’s incredibly unlikeable. Anyone who has called this place a home will have experienced the sardine-stacking of the rush hour tube (made worse when suffocated by a middle-aged banker cologne). And then there’s the fact that you can’t escape the faint whiff of urine, weed and fryer oil. Or my personal favourite: sweaty bus poles.

This city offers on respite. You’re kept on your toes - turning a corner could result in a shoulder-brush with acting royalty (I crossed the road with Game of Throne’s Hodor once) or face full of mid-flight pigeon (delicious). It’s an everyday lucky dip and it’s addictively exciting, but check back in 6 months to see if I still have all my hair.

Talk us through your day-to-day work life…

Step 1: exit bed (crucial)

Step 2: enter workplace

Step 3: ensure that between steps 1 and 2 I change out of my pyjamas and brush my teeth. Combing hair is optional because if the tube wind tunnel doesn’t destroy your ‘do, the temperamental weather or a kamikaze pigeon will

Step 4: If I don’t have a briefing with the creative team, I’ll sit down at the cacti-breeding ground that is my desk and wait for my first email of the day. I never know what trajectory my day is going to take until I’m in it. Sometimes it’s cruising altitude and a lunch hour on Wimbledon Common; other’s it’s Houston we have a problem and a control room of people furiously working together to launch a campaign.*

*All of the above is interspersed with what is known in the medical community as “too many cups of coffee” 

What inspired you to pursue a career overseas?

My gut / Immutable initiation / Confusion / A fear of sitting still / A glass of wine, lowered inhibitions, an Etihad airways sale and “pfft, why not?”. I’m not too sure which was the culprit.

What’s the most important lesson you've learned along the way?
Stop being so dramatic.

Where is the best place for a late-night boogie?

Someone’s living room with cheap wine at 3am, surrounded by great people who dance terribly and a playlist equal parts ABBA and Taylor Swift.

What are you reading (or watching)?

Novel: Kafka on the Shore (Haruki Murakami); News column: Josh Glancy’s “In New York”; menu: Wagamama’s.

What's the best advice you've ever received?

1) Be in the present and, 2) cut your hair short.

Both look good paired with a pair of large hoops.

What’s next for you?

I could tell you, but I’d probably change my mind approximately 0.5 seconds after. At the moment it involves eating the remaining Ben & Jerry’s cookie dough ice-cream in the freezer.

Thank you, Jojo

xx Abbie

Make your own rules

Who am I? It's a question I ask myself almost every single day, a moment of self-reflection which I'm sure I'm not alone in. Closely followed by:

What is my purpose?
And, how do I define myself?

I started pondering this dilemma when I discovered an old photograph my Mum never got around to pinning on the wall when we moved house some five years ago. It's a picture of my high school netball team. Featured are my classmates, myself (obviously) and my Mum - our stoic coach. Contemplating that picture I began to recall how I would have described myself back then: run of the mill high school student, average netball player, devoted ballerina and contemporary dancer, friend, sister, daughter, the list goes on. Back then I didn't believe there was anything exceptional about me. I was just like every other kid in high school; anchorless, a paper cut-out of a human wafting wherever the wind might take me. 

It took me a few years to realise that I have the power to define myself. I can be whoever I want to be. If I want to be an environmentalist, a surf-pro or an internationally recognised ballroom dancer; I have the power to make that happen. I don't have to follow the status quo and I certainly don't have to fit anyone's cookie cutter mould. In fact, I think we can all agree the most intriguing people we meet in life are those who break all the rules. I'll get up at 5:30am in the morning to bake a carrot cake but I can also be found dancing behind the bar at the dirtiest pub in town well after last drinks have been called. Life's a whole lot more fun when you make your own rules.

Right now my Instagram bio reads 'keeping it candid and colourful' while you'll find the left-hand side of this webpage reads 'writer, wanderer, wine-lover, yogi, girls-girl and free spirit'. My CV mentions my education and qualifications so I guess you could call me a professional communicator (thank you, Bachelor of Communications) and certified CPR provider although I hope I never have to use that one. My friends and family would describe me as bright, bubbly and a little bit too happy. It's all a matter of perspective. But what's most important is that I believe in myself, my abilities, my passions and I choose what defines me.

You do you, and you define you.

x Abbie

The early bird

I’m a morning person. It hasn’t always been that way but in the last few years I’ve really grown fond of the room for possibility that waking up before 7am brings.

I’ve always loved taking my time in the mornings, labouring over the process of cooking my oats on the stove top and drinking my cuppa tea or coffee at a leisurely pace while musing over what the day will bring, a practice I’ve no doubt inherited from my British relatives. Until about five years ago I had my morning routine down to a fine art, sleeping in for as long as possible without having to surrender those blissful moments in the kitchen. The rest of my morning was utter chaos - racing around the house, gathering together my lunch, keys, phone - oh wait - I forgot my shoes! I would fall into my car in a heap, desperately searching for my glasses amongst the bundle of belongings I had dumped on the front seat before finally hitting the road. In a word, it was madness.

I’d be lying if I said that one day I woke up at 5am without rhyme or reason and that was all it took to convert me from chaos to calm. It didn’t. I’ve read all the same articles you have from ‘The Benefits of Waking up at Before the Sun’ to ‘How To Become a Morning Person in Thee Easy Steps’. They just didn’t resonate with me. I understood the concept, as I’m sure you all do. Step one: set your alarm. Step two: get up when said alarm goes off. How hard can it be? Ha! I’m sure I don’t have to explain that to any of you. The snooze button can make a very convincing argument at 5:15am in the morning.

Q: So, what’s the secret?
A: Find a purpose

It wasn’t until I truly started valuing my time in the morning that waking up at the prompt sound of my alarm became a whole lot easier. There was a time when I needed those extra hours to study, these days I use them to fit in my regular yoga practice or, if I’m feeling admittedly a bit ridiculous, to bake a carrot cake for my co-workers (call me crazy but when the office vibe needs a lift a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do). Waking up early is no longer a deflating task but something empowering. By 6:30am I’m already kicking goals and getting a head start on the day and I thoroughly enjoy it.

Seize or snooze the day (away) - either way, embrace the opportunity that a new day brings!

x Abbie

Books to read

It's no secret I love to read. Reading is like meditation for me. When I pick up a book I switch off and I escape into a fictional land where there are no deadlines, no exams to study for, no laundry waiting for me and no one to bother me. Boy can I get caught up in that world. I would rather snuggle up on the couch with a good book than watch tv. Although that rule tends to lax when the Bachelor is on (guilty pleasures, and all). But more often that not I find myself scrolling through everything that our on-demmand television services have to offer and discovering nothing that excites my interest. So I always keep a stack of books close by. Even whilst backpacking my way through Europe I managed to keep a book on my person at all times. The books I picked up from those shared hostel leave-one-take-one libraries probably had more stamps on their passport than my own.

So, without further ado here are my most recent and compelling reads:

Sweet Bitter

The inspiration for Stan's most recent release with the same name, Sweet Bitter tells that tale of Tess who leaves behind her life in Ohio without a care in the world and begins a new chapter of her life working as waitress in a popular New York restaurant. She is swiftly itroduced to the beautifully chaotic world of love and drugs which she quickly has to learn to navigate on her own. It's a story of independence and indecision. The waiting game.

Jasper Jones

My dear friend Jojo, who now lives a a very cool twenty-something girl life in London so she knows things, does not stop raving about Jasper Jones. It's been sat on my bookshelf for almost two years now and I finally got around to reading it. Not my usual choice of fiction but wow was she right. It's a beautifully poignant novel which addresses the fine line of prejudice and morality in a very To Kill a Mockingbird-esque style. The life of Charlie Bucktin, a teenage book worm, changes dramatically when Jasper Jones emplores him to help find justice for the death of Laura Wishart. Set in the Western Australian country town of Corrigin this one really hit home for me.

The Language of Flowers

When I first picked this one up I thought it was going to be all cheese. I love flowers as much as the next person but placing your faith in the language of flowers surely had to sit a stone's throw away from making big decisions based on your horoscope. Which, might I add, I do read out of curiosity. Vanessa Diffenbaugh you changed my mind completely. This novel is beautiful, romantic, heartbreaking and real all at the same time. The Language of Flowers takes you on a journey between past and present, sharing the story of a young and low-on-luck woman whose gift in life is to share the language of flowers and harnesses this power to create a future for herself.

Happy reading!

x Abbie

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A home away from home ​

I miss being a Melbourne girl. I only recently moved back to Perth at the end of February this year. Prior to that I spent that last year and a half living and working in Melbourne and it was fabulous! I had a great job working which kept me busy at all hours of the day and I mean all hours - urgent text messages from suppliers at 10pm were not uncommon. But I loved it. And when you love what you're doing you don't mind jumping on your emails to fire off artwork proofs in all directions.

But what I miss most is my incredible group of girlfriends; housemates, neighbours, old friends and new. My time in Melbourne would not have been the same without them and I will forever associate that year and a half in Victoria with nights spent pouring our hearts out over the kitchen table, drinking the latest drop of rose picked out at the bottle shop for it's appealing graphic design (yes, we do know a think or two about wine but packaging is equally important) and trying to make sense of the world. We were there for each other whether we knew we needed it or not.

We didn't spend all our time mopping around and moaning. Most of our days were spent out and about soaking up the culture of the city, sipping coffee at our favourite local St James Cafe, mooching around Prahran Market, sipping cocktails until we were sure we'd found the best Espresso Martini in Melbourne. There were road trips to country which often involved a terrible rendition of carpool karaoke and ended in a trip to the local Kmart to pick up a pair of track pants - assimilation is key. We'd go out exploring during the day and in the evening we'd dance around the kitchen like no one was watching. The next morning always required a breakfast fry up - eggs, bacon, avo and toast. You know the drill. We've all been there. Hangovers are not what they used to be anymore.

All in all it was a magical time and I will forever hold it close to my heart. We might not be close in the geographical sense of the word but I've made friends that I will keep for a lifetime, and memories that I will hold onto for an eternity. We still talk all the time, thank you Instagram, iMessage, Facebook etc, and I still cop it for not freeing up enough space on my phone for Snapchat (I'm sorry, I don't even have enough room to take a a photo without first deleting half my library). But there's a bond there that cannot be broken despite the absence of a pesky little app.

I think, as women, these are the kinds of friendships we should hold onto and I'm sure all you ladies out there can relate. We need our girlfriends to pick us up when we're down or to talk us down when we're ten feet off the ground and in desperate need of a reality check. So hold them close to your heart and take good care of them because a little love goes a long way in this world.

Here's to you - my Melbourne ladies. Thank you for the memories and here's to many more!

x Abbie

Why May

Why May? Why The May Diaries?

This isn’t the first time I’ve delved into the blogging world. What began as a holiday journal documenting my year abroad in London evolved into a lifestyle blog with a strong focus on makeup and skincare (I want to cringe at that now… it had so much potential and that’s what I got hung up on, lesson learned) with a sassy sister blog on the side which I ran with two of my best girlfriends (now that I miss). Then life happened, I got busy, my priorities changed, my interests took a swift side-step in another direction and I was left blog-less without anywhere to document the inner workings of my mind. Which brings us to today…

I didn’t spend much time thinking about what to call this little space. As soon as I knew I wanted to get back into writing I put pen to paper and drafted a few ideas. Before I knew it the page was a chaotic mess; ideas here, lines there, the occasional doodle and amongst it all ‘The May Diaries’.

I’ve always felt a deep connection with the month of May. It’s marks a change in seasons and offers a great opportunity to take stock and reflect. It’s also my month of birth (not biased or anything over here) and if there’s one thing you should know about me, other than my hideous love for watching re-runs of Mcleods Daughters, it’s that I associate greatly with being a Taurean.

Taurus: Steady, driven, tenacious, enduring, persistent, trustworthy, patient & most identifiably stubborn

I’m not massively into horoscopes but I can spot a fellow Taurean a mile away and gravitate towards them immediately. There’s an unspoken sense of camaraderie and shared spirit. But, please don’t go thinking that if you’re not born between April 20th and May 20th this isn’t the place for you, all star signs are welcome here. In fact, the more the merrier. This is simply a tale about how ‘The May Diaries’ came about.

So there you have it!

x Abbie

Mindful moments in the fruit and veg aisle

Here’s a thought for you… How much of your grocery shop goes to waste each week? Are there soggy veggies lurking around in your veggie drawer? Is there a used lemon rolling around on the top shelf along with a couple half empty tins of lentils which you swear you were going to use when you invited your friends over for Mexican night, but instead you got distracted, drunk too much vino and ordered in instead. We’ve all been there.

Keeping a fridge full of fresh produce à la Yolanda Hadid (RHBH’s style) is almost impossible. It requires constant vigilance and even more frequent trips to the grocery store which to be quite frank is a bore.

But what if your trips to Coles were no longer in vain... More frequent, yes, but ten times more efficient.

They call it grocery shopping ‘the French way’ which apparently involves popping to the grocery store every day, on the way to or on your way home. Yes, you visit the fruit and veg aisle more often but you’re also more conscious of what you’re buying, what you already have at home and what you really need (I was never really going to stockpile all those Cadbury Dairy Milk bars for the winter, I ate them in the space of a week). 

I’ve been trialling it for the past month and I have to say I am a huge fan! Food shops bamboozle me at the best of times. I spend 5 minutes finding everything at the top of my list and then another 20 minutes trying to find that last retched tin of tomatoes which I’ve surely walked past one thousand times before (honestly, no exaggeration). Shopping daily has made me a more mindful shopper. My list is shorter, I’m in and out faster and I come home excited to cook! Another bonus: I spend far less. Which means I can save those dollars for far more exciting purchases…

On the menu tonight: Eggplant Spaghetti

• Eggplant
• Cherry tomatoes
• Herbs
• Tinned tomatoes
• Gluten free pasta (more on that later)

Yum!

x Abbie