THE MOTHERSHIP

A (very) honest take on living, working and parenting in Dubai

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5 minutes with… the legendary June Kenton of Rigby & Peller

March 09, 2016 by Helen Farmer

Now in her seventies, June Kenton, HM Queen Elizabeth II’s corsetiere, talked to The Mothership about motherhood, changing body shapes, and why you shouldn’t buy your dinner and a bra at the same time

You might not be able to solve the baby crying at night, but you can wear the right bra.

If you are uncomfortable it’s much harder to look after a little one, because you’re bending down, picking the child up, you’re doing all sorts of things that perhaps you wouldn’t have done before having a baby. If you’re not wearing the right size and you’re falling out of your bra, it’s not good because you’ll become very floppy and loose, but if you’re in the right one you feel more in control and in a better place to look after everyone.

You do change shape – we’re all changing shape all of our lives.

After having a baby, after breastfeeding, when you go on the pill, when you put on weight, lose weight, take HRT, hormonal changes every month… We have customers who have bigger bras just for that time of the month. You can’t start your life as a 34B and end up with the same size bra that’s like two nipple warmers!

What happens is that usually the mother is wearing a bra that is ridiculous; she’s never had a fitting and she has no idea what size to wear.

When you’re 12 or 13, and you start to form, your mother says ‘Well, we better go get some bras for you’, and she does the fitting. She doesn’t have the faintest idea what she should be wearing, and here she is doing a fitting. So what normally happens is that a fight breaks out in the fitting room, because the mother doesn’t want to buy what the teenager wants, so when they come into Rigby, we always say “Mum, would you mind just sitting outside for a minute?” then you can talk to the girl and find something she likes, and fits her, that she wants to wear!

I don’t like any of our customers walking out with something that they wouldn’t be seen dead in, because they won’t wear it!

You have to listen to the customer. Don’t sell her what she wouldn’t wear. They have to be happy. We’ve always had MPs, and celebrities, and all sorts in. They realise that we do a proper fitting. We don’t measure anyone. In London we only look and in two minutes we can get the right size. Everyone wants to look good.

This business of going into Marks and buying a dinner for one and a bra needs to change.

You see it and it’s so pretty, and you think you know your size, so it goes into the shopping basket. I always ask groups ‘How many of you have two drawers full of bras that don’t fit them?’ and everyone does. People say they wouldn’t spend a lot on a bra, but then they’ll buy eight cheap bras that don’t fit, instead a few really super ones that do.

Bigger women would look half the size in a bra that fitted them.

Clothes would look different, everything would look tremendous – people buy wonderful clothes and rubbish bras that don’t fit them. You probably don’t need a new dress if you wore the right bra, because it would be transformed! 

You should forget about your bra during the day.

You should put it on in the morning, and take it off at night, without thinking about it in between, or organising yourself, or pulling the straps up. It’s so important to be comfortable. If you buy good bras, you don’t need loads. Maybe four or five, including a sports bra. I go the the gym a lot and I can’t bear it when I see everything is moving!

When I first started in 1970, you could only get a D cup, and now we go up to J or K.

And now the backs start at 30. The average is now a DD or E; we’re eating better, we’re living better, and we’re getting a bit fatter. You’d be amazed how many women wear too big around the back, but the cup size is too small and they don’t like going up cup sizes – most would rather wear a 36C than a 34E or F. I would say 70% of women don’t like their breasts.

I love being a mum.

I was in business with my husband, I was in the store, but I would leave at 2pm and always picked them up from school. We adopted. I wanted children so badly, but it didn’t happen, so our children are adopted, and I said to myself that someone has given me their child, and I must do my utmost to be a super-duper mum, and I hope I was.

Rigby & Peller is now open in Dubai Festival City. rigbyandpeller.com

March 09, 2016 /Helen Farmer
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Dear mum. I get it now.

March 06, 2016 by Helen Farmer

Happy Mother’s Day, to anyone that is celebrating, or being celebrated, from breakfast in bed, to a hastily typed WhatsApp with a heart emoticon.

This is my second – my first year as a mum I was six weeks in, still so raw with emotion and trying to leave the house. But this year I get why my mum often reminded us to buy a card, or pick some snowdrops from the garden.

This is why I want to say a real sorry for The Great Mother’s Day Incident of 1995. I was 13, my brother was 10, and my dad should have known better. We forgot – in spectacular style. I recall making a card and (I’m cringing just writing this) going around the house trying to find items that my mum didn’t know about to put into a box and present to her. What was I thinking? Mums. Know. Everything. She predictably went apeshit, slamming the front door and taking the dog for a four-hour walk, leaving the three of us open-mouthed and truly baffled how we could begin to make amends.

This was back in the day when no shops were open AT ALL on a Sunday – apart from the local garden centre. Off we went, and bought a chocolate slab from the Thornton’s concession, and had the teenage shopworker shakily pipe the word ‘sorry’ on it. Yeah, it didn’t do the job.

So mum, I am sorry – before I was sorry for provoking that reaction, but now I get it, and I’m sorry for our thoughtlessness. We were inconsiderate, and missed the chance to show you just how much we appreciate you. 

Cynics may say that these occasions are over-commercialised, that they're a good way to sell cards and have lost all meaning – and we should be showing our love and appreciation all year. But isn’t being celebrated and thanked a lovely thing? And shouldn’t we want our mums to be delighted by a card, share photos of beautiful flowers with their friends, and feel proud that they raised children who value their feelings?

So while your mum might protest, or your husband be dismissive, or your kids need cajoling, let’s all make an effort. Take the opportunity to say something heartfelt, to make her feel special, and valued – it’s only now that I’m a mum myself that I understand just how much it means.

March 06, 2016 /Helen Farmer
mother's day, family, special occasion
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11 things that happen after giving birth (that we really need to start talking about)

March 01, 2016 by Helen Farmer

When I was pregnant, many women who had already given birth would give me a squeeze of congratulations then pause – weighing up if they should tell me what I might go through. No one did. We went to antenatal classes that covered labour, breastfeeding (top tip: make your boob like a burger) and swaddling, but there was no mention of what would happen in the hours and days following birth. Nothing.  

My only insight was an honest discussion with my most honest friend, who muttered something about blood clots the size of satsumas. And I’m glad, because I really would have freaked out if she hadn’t told me.

Over margaritas the other night a fellow mum and I over-shared about our first foray into motherhood, and realised that NO ONE REALLY TALKS ABOUT THE HORRORS. And that means very few women are prepared for those first few fateful days post-partum. 

This isn’t intended to scare any mums-to-be, or put you off getting pregnant, but to simply reassure you that it’s all normal. Even if it’s unspeakably bad at the time.

1.   Stitches

Cross those legs… 90% of women experience tearing when giving birth naturally, and 60% of them need stitches. It might the result of pushing at the wrong time or the baby needing forceps/ventouse, but from minor tears to (whisper it) third or fourth degree tears, stitches are really common.

Your recovery will depend on the severity, and it could take up to six months and what feels like hours of Kegels to feel ‘normal’ again.

Things that help:

·      Ice packs

·      Doughnut-shaped cushions

·      A sitz bath (a shallow bath up to your hips – your doctor might recommend adding salt or witch hazel)

·      Letting your bits get some air

·      Eating fibre-rich foods to keep things moving in the Andy McDowell department

·      Changing pads regularly and wearing cotton undies

·      Ibuprofen as needed (eg often)

2.   Blood and other… bits

For the first few days you’ll be wearing a giant pad (much like one we used to toilet train our puppy) in your giant mesh knickers. It’s huge. For most new mums, some form of pad will be needed for the first month – by the end it’s like a period, but in the beginning it’s like a scene from CSI. You might leak through your clothes and onto chairs, you’ll have a wee then god knows what liquid will gush out as you stand up, there might be blood clots (some alarmingly large), and it might feel like your guts are in danger of falling out of your vagina. All the time.

3.   Zero dignity

Whether you have a C section or push, in the days after birth – when your dignity well and truly nosedives – you don’t give a monkey who sees your bits. Consultants will come in to check your stitches, nurses will change stained sheets, virtual strangers will take you to the bathroom and help you wee, and pretty much everyone will squeeze your boobs to get that precious colostrum out. And you won’t care a bit.

4.   Meeting the baby

Unless you’re really lucky, your labour will be hard. That’s why it’s called labour. After giving birth I was off my head on drugs and kept shouting ‘Is she ok? Is she ok? Is she ok?’ and when my daughter was put on my chest I was in shock, unable to process the fact my bump was now a baby, who looked more like a bush baby, all eyes and hairy shoulders. It’s very normal to not have an immediate connection with your newborn after the trauma of birth, or feel that rush of love that you hear about so often. It will happen – for some it’s after a few hours, others it’s months.

5.   Totally unprepared

You now get to take the baby home. That’s right, you’re in charge of a tiny human. You, who is still unsure what a subprime mortgage is, even though you really enjoyed The Big Short, and has joyfully lived off G&Ts and Frosted Flakes for weeks on end. A child is now in your charge, and you’re expecting it to all ‘come naturally’ because you’re now a mother, and there’s something called maternal instinct that you’re not sure you have. Prepare to be a bit scared, and ask for lots of help.

6.   Breastfeeding woes

Speaking of things coming naturally, breastfeeding doesn’t for the vast majority of women. From low supply to mastitis, tongue-ties to reflux, getting food into your child IS NOT EASY. You might spend six hours on the couch with the baby attached to your nipple (why did no one explain cluster feeding to me?), be up every hour to feed as they keep falling asleep on your boob, be in so much pain that you have to stamp your foot and scream silently until it subsides, have a pump permanently attached to your udders, wake up in a puddle of milk with your sheets soaked, or have rock hard tits that need medication to stop the feeling that they’re on fire. Possibly all of that.

If you’re struggling, get help. If you hate breastfeeding, it’s ok if you stop. People will judge either way, so you might as well be happy with your decision.  

7.   The ‘sex week’ check up

Six weeks after giving birth, you go back to your gynae for a truly weird appointment. Not only do you have an ultrasound when there’s no baby to see (oddly disconcerting), but they’ll be checking that your uterus has contracted and stitches healed so you can get the go-ahead to exercise and have sex. Note: if your husband doesn’t come to the appointment he doesn’t need to know that you got the all clear… 

8.   Sex after birth

Prepare to feel like you’re losing your virginity again, but with the added bonus of leaking boobs. 

9.  Insane sleep deprival

It’s a cliché that the parents of newborns experience fatigue on another level, but it’s clichéd for a reason; this kind of exhaustion could be used to torture spies into sharing state secrets. If breastfeeding, you might want to put your partner in the spare room/on the sofa so they can get a decent kip – not only does it win you wifey points, but if baby isn’t on a bottle then there’s naff-all they can do to help, and if they sleep through the 1am feed (and the 3.30am, and the 5am) you will sit there with your boob out silently hating them. Not good for the relationship. I played a LOT of CandyCrush – surprisingly difficult with one hand – in the depths of night, while my husband snoozed blissfully in the next room, but then he was on better form to take the baby for the odd hour the next day when I napped. 

10. The hunger

“You’ll lose all the weight breastfeeding,” they said. “You’ll be running around so much the weight will fall off,” they said. I have never known hunger like I experienced when breastfeeding, and would get up at 6am to feed the baby and eat a jam sandwich, then go back to sleep until the next feed, after which I’d shower and eat three Weetabix. Sandwiches, pasta, toast, more sandwiches, biscuits… I’m sure breastfeeding burns calories, but not at the same rate as I could shovel them into my face. Sad times, because I was really counting on that.

11. The emotions, the overwhelming emotions

I cried when changing the baby, when feeding the baby, from joy, from desperation, from sheer exhaustion, when my husband looked at me ‘in a funny way’, at the news, at my body, at absolutely bloody everything. Again, this is normal, even when you feel like you’re losing your mind and no-one in the world understands. Just remember: this too shall pass, and one day you won’t cry in the car when someone beeps their horn at you unfairly.

Well done if you got to the end of this joyous post.

So if you know a pregnant woman, and she’s talking about getting her eyelashes done for the post labour photo, or what outfit she’s going to wear on the way home from the hospital, do her a favour and pass her a pack of heavy duty sanitary pads and the number for your lactation consultant.

March 01, 2016 /Helen Farmer
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Meningitis B in the UAE – your questions answered

February 22, 2016 by Helen Farmer

With rumours and concerns growing about the unavailability of the Meningitis B vaccine here in the UAE, I spoke to Kim Quick, travel medicine specialist at Health Bay PolyClinic, to find out more – and if parents should be worried

Can you tell me a bit about Meningitis in general?

There are many different strains of Meningitis. Historically according to data in the UK most cases were Meningitis C and B, although trends can change and the W strain is also causing an increasing number of cases. However due to meningitis C vaccine being given routinely now cases of Meninigitis C have reduced, but Meningitis B is responsible for 80 % of cases in the UK. Infection is highest in the under 5 year olds and peaks under the age of 12 months, with another peak at 15-19 years of age. (NHS Green Book Meningitis)

What is the current Meningitis vaccine available to UAE patients?

In Health Bay we currently give the MENACTRA vaccine. This covers the Meningitis ACWY strains and can be given from the age of 9 months. If your child has the vaccine under the age of 2 years they require two doses three months apart. From the age of 2 years they only need one dose.

Does this vary from clinic to clinic?

Yes, there are different vaccines on the market, that are given at different times and some require boosters. This will be decided by your child's doctor.

Why is the Meningitis B vaccine absent from schedules – and does this pose a threat?

Meningitis B vaccine BEXSERO is a new vaccine only introduced to the UK in 2015, and is currently not licensed here in Dubai. As soon as it is we will be introducing it. The UAE have strict licensing laws we have to abide by and, until it is decided on by the governing bodies, we cannot introduce it.

Has there been an increase of Meningitis worldwide, or are we just more aware because of social media?

As far as I am aware there is not an increase worldwide. The bacteria responsible for Meningitis infection is carried in the nostrils of 5-11% of adults and 25 % of adolescents with no symptoms, and so far it is not known why some people are susceptible to the infection. However, we do know that it affects children under 5 more and particularly under one, hence the introduction of the Meningitis B vaccine being given from the age of 2 months in the UK.

Should parents be worried?

I think as parents we all need to be aware of Meningitis symptoms, and if you are at all concerned about your child seek medical help. Always trust your gut instinct when your child is sick. The incubation period is two to seven day and the onset varies from general malaise, fever and vomiting to headache, neck stiffness, photophobia drowsiness, confusion, joint pains and the rash, which does not blanch when you put a glass on it. Young infants do not always have the classic signs and may present with fever, vomiting and irritability and deterioration can be rapid with pallor, fast pulse and a rash. (NHS green book Meninigitis)

Should I get the Meningitis B vaccine if I’m at home in the UK?

You can ask your GP at home about getting the vaccine if you have a young child, but be aware it is a course of three vaccines given at 2 months, 4 months and 12-13 months.

Is it possible to bring it into the UAE from abroad?

All vaccines have to be carefully stored and kept at certain temperatures and it is very important not to break the cold chain so travelling with them is not recommended. Also as the vaccine is not licensed here, it may cause you a problem.

February 22, 2016 /Helen Farmer
baby, meningitis, vaccine, health, news
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Why I have quit my dream job

February 16, 2016 by Helen Farmer

This feels like a break-up, and even though I’m the one ending it, I’m still heart-broken.

Three years ago I was about to launch a magazine, working long hours fine tuning everything from how the page numbers would look, to our very first cover feature, pouring years of publishing experience into a project that would have my face in the front. I was, in short, doing what every aspiring journalist dreams of – creating a title that I would run.

A lot has changed in those three years, but there have been some constants; I have adored my dedicated, passionate team who have shared my vision throughout, I have stood by the editorial integrity of the magazine and its unique voice, and I have loved meeting so many wonderful people, whether interviewing international experts, or a chance encounter with someone starting up that we could help.

And deciding to leave hasn't been easy – it would have been a lot easier, in fact, if I was working on a title that meant nothing to me, if I hated my boss or was made to work endless hours with little reward. None of those are true. 

What is true, however, is that I need more flexibility in my schedule to fit in with having a one-year-old daughter, and it’s pretty darn hard to edit a magazine unless you’re all in. As I discussed in a previous post, having a baby has made me better at my job, making me more efficient and focused, and amping up my ambition – a surprise side effect – but I feel like I need a new adventure. That sounds like such a cliché… 

Resigning was horrible. Truly. I cried. Deeply unprofessional, but a real reflection on what a wrench it will be to leave a company where I have worked for six and a half years, alongside really REALLY awesome people, and had a blast. Seriously, from interviewing my heroes to reviewing hotels in the Maldives, it has been a dream gig. But it’s not enough. After years of being attached and associated with the same role, I’ve been blinkered to other prospects, and I suspect have been overlooked too. It’s only when I thought about leaving my job did I recognise the myriad of opportunities that are (hopefully) awaiting me.

I’ve missed learning and challenging myself, so it’s time to go it alone for a while. Well, that’s not strictly true – I’ve been asked to stay on part-time at the magazine for a few months, working from the office one day per week, which suits me perfectly. In that time I’ll be working hard to build up freelance writing, editing and radio work, as well as putting more time into The Mothership. Please keep reading! And I'm hugely grateful to the company for this flexible approach – something many UAE businesses need to improve on to better accommodate working parents. 

I’d be lying if I said that being a mother hasn’t changed my outlook on work, and the balance all working mums are trying to achieve. I’m very lucky in that I’m in an industry where I can freelance, do project-based work and be productive from home, whereas some people (air traffic controllers, for example…) are very much tied to their desks and other peoples’ schedules.

Phoebe is at an awesome age, where every day something changes or develops, and I don’t want to miss out – and let’s face it, I’m probably going to be toiling away until I’m old and grey(er), so taking a non-traditional approach to work (eg not aldeskso 9 to 5) for a few years might make a lot of sense. I could tell you about how heart-breaking it is to say goodbye to her in the mornings – especially now she blows kisses as I leave – or how I sit in the car outside the house when I get home, dealing with emails so I don’t have to do that when I’m on mum duty, but every working mother knows what that’s like. It’s rough.

The morning goodbye ritual

The morning goodbye ritual

I'll still be a 'working mum' (I love what I do, and nappies aren't cheap), but I'll be working in a different way that allows more time with our daughter, plus I write better at night.

Who knows? Maybe within a few months I’ll be desperate for routine, missing the camaraderie of my colleagues and the security of a regular paycheque, but for now I just need to explore the alternative.

Wish me luck x

February 16, 2016 /Helen Farmer
working, working mum, quit my job, new start
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