Deborah Joseph

SKIMS founder Emma Grede has touched a nerve in the past couple of weeks, because she said things mothers are not supposed to say out loud. That their time has limits. That ambition has trade-offs. That working from home is ‘career suicide’. I don’t agree with every word she used. But I do think she exposed something uncomfortable: women are still expected to do everything, brilliantly, all at once, and never admit the cost. When I worked full time editing Glamour across three countries, I craved my children. But I also desperately needed time for myself at weekends as work was so full on in the week. Now I’m home more, I sometimes clock-watch till bedtime. Both things are true. As for working from home being ‘career suicide?’ I think if you want to succeed in a corporate or office based job and climb that ladder - she’s right. Not being in person around those you can learn from, from your bosses, is not going to put you top of the list when it comes to promotion. Being only on Zoom isn’t going to give you the fully rounded skills to be able to lead teams in the same way. But what she is missing is that the world of work has changed. More women are able to work - especially with young kids - because they CAN work from home. And the types of jobs many women want to do aren’t all of that quite male-dominated, corporate ladder- climbing variety. Also, later on in your career - as I am - flexible working feels like a godsend! Whatever your life balance perspective - the judgements and backlash to her choices is what got me thinking. We know we wouldn’t be having this conversation if she was a male founder. She is an incredible business woman who has achieved sky high success from humble beginnings - I have nothing but respect for her. She’s the best person to know what her family needs to make it all work. Women have fought so hard to have choices. Now let’s allow us to make them as we see fit. That is exactly why I started living my 70 Percent Life. Something has to give. The question is whether you choose what falls into the 30%, or whether life chooses it for you. Anyone with me?

My Iranian mum taught me to blow dry my hair when I was about 11 years old. Hair is a big thing for all Iranian women I know. Often (though not exclusively), long, thick and curly, blow drying their hair into a bouncy, sleek version was almost ritualistic in my childhood - I remember women coming from Iran - before the revolution - to stay with us in Manchester and shrieking with laughter in the bathroom, while dyeing and blow drying each other’s hair. So it was no surprise that one of the earliest skills my mum taught me was how to blow dry my own - then very curly - hair. It’s one of the most useful things she’s taught me - it’s saved my time and finances. Especially when I was editing Glamour magazine and my three kids were so young. I had to get myself magazine-editor ready in the morning, while simultaneously getting them up, dressed, and packed for school. It was always chaos. So I perfected a morning blow dry in under 20 mins, which meant I could get to work looking salon-ready and no one would know the truth. And that worked for me - I do my best work under pressure. Because when my hair is blow dried I feel I can take on any challenge - big or small. Today, while I’m rushing trying to do my blow dry before going out, I’m thinking of and praying for the women and people of Iran. Praying they will find the freedom within their own country, to be able to have their bouncy blow dry out and proud without being beaten, imprisoned or murdered for the simple act of choosing to show their hair. We are so unbelievably lucky to be living in the UK - for all the misogyny we face in society, I will never take my basic freedoms I have as a woman living here, for granted. Hairdryer @ghdhair Brush: @bootsuk Product: @moroccanoil_uk #blowdrytutorial #blowdrystyle

At a party on Saturday night, a group of us sat outside swapping menopause stories over quite a few cocktails. Insomnia. Low libido. Social anxiety, hot sweats - you name it we discussed it. And how we laughed. Honesty. Relief. The joy of women telling the truth and not pretending everything is fine. And it reminded me that while there’s a lot to say about the negatives of being in your 40s, 50s and beyond, there’s also a lot to love about midlife. More honesty. Better boundaries. Less people-pleasing. Deeper friendships. More perspective. And, occasionally, the relief of not giving a shit. Do you agree? I’d love to hear about what you’ve embraced about midlife? (And don’t worry if you tell me something too personal, your secret’s safe, I will have forgotten it by the end of today.) #memopause #midlife

Spent most of May waiting for the sun to finally shine and bring on the summer. (Still waiting). But in the meantime, have been reading, trying new beauty products, enjoying theatre outings with friends and, of course, shopping. All providing perfect distractions for what I should really be doing ie writing my book. Here’s what went into my 70 and 30 percent so far this month: Shopping: @ganni shorts I know I’ll wear on repeat. Because cost-per-wear equations are my favourite kind of maths. Theatre: : Teeth ’n’ Smiles, starring ex Glamour cover star @selfesteemselfesteem who gives a bloody brilliant performance, loved all the music. Did I fully know what was happening? Not entirely. Still loved every minute. Reading: Heart the Lover: everyone’s talking about it. And if it’s good enough for the @womensprize shortlist, it’s perfect for me. Accessories: leopard print @ysl pouch, burgundy YSL pouch. Filed under “future self-gifting strategy.” Dreaming of summer holidays - and this leopard print @zimmermann swimsuit. Art: @traceyeminstudio exhibition @tate . Cried. So moving, so triggering, so beautiful. Need to gone back for round to take more in. Skincare: Three weeks of @drsambunting skincare is enough to make me a convert. Skin feels so good! In the 30 percent: TikTok cooking gone wrong.The algorithm promised dinner. I got an ugly mess. Beauty: nail shade regret. Not quite red, not quite orange, very much “grandma hands.” What’s gone in your 70 and your 30 - all recommendations, and no-no’s welcome!!

Today was a good day in my rollercoaster of trying to write a book. Two thousand words written! I’d gone to bed last night, truly hating myself for sitting in front of a screen for 6 hours yesterday and not writing a Single. Bloody. Word. And missing an event I really wanted to go to because I wasn’t wearing my glasses when I put it in my diary and put it in for Thursday instead of Tuesday. (I guess the @trinnylondon lip reset kit was not to be mine!!) Anyway, in my attempt to do anything but write yesterday, I made my way through an old box of photos and found these of me with various celebrities I interviewed, I think in the early noughties! Sharon Osbourne (absolutely lovely, I was so ill with a cold after taking 4 long haul flights in 4 days and she took it very well. I’d have been like, get away from me!), Simon Cowell (very charming), David Schwimmer - such a gent to interview until I totally fucked up and said he’d dated someone in the copy that he hadn’t (never did that again!!). And the gorgeous Shannen Doherty, RIP. I guess my bad day had a small silver lining - me looking through these photos and thinking I really was so incredibly lucky to have experienced the magazine world in the 90s and noughties! So much fun.

As a mother of two teens and one tween, I am painfully aware of the mental health crisis facing young people - post-Covid, yes, but also because of the unprecedented pressure of social media. Our children are growing up in a world we never had to navigate. They can never fully switch off. Even in their bedrooms, they can be exposed to harm, comparison, cruelty and hate. So I was honoured as part of Mental Health Awareness Week to be asked to speak on a fashion panel with three brilliant women @gemmarosebreger @chayaoflondon @netta.___ to help raise awareness of the incredible work of @theolileightrust , followed, by a screening of The Devil Wears Prada. The Trust was set up by Oli’s family and friends after he took his own life in 2018, aged just 16. Since then, they have turned unimaginable grief into life-saving action. That’s why the work the Oli Leigh Trust does in schools matters so much. They provide suicide-prevention and mental-health awareness training for pupils, teachers, school staff and parents - helping them recognise warning signs, know how to offer support, and understand where to get the right help. They also work directly with teenagers, helping them understand their own emotional health, spot when a friend may be struggling, and know what to do if someone is having suicidal thoughts. The Oli Leigh Trust says its training has now reached over 860 schools across the UK. It is about giving the people around our children - teachers, parents, friends -the confidence to notice, to ask, and to know what to do next. Inspired by the work they do and very grateful to have been part of this incredible event.

For years, while working in a full on job and balancing it with three young children, I bought into this idea that if I didn’t fit in absolutely everything life had to offer, I somehow wasn’t living it properly. If I wasn’t saying ‘yes’, going everywhere, seeing everyone, replying to everything, maximising every opportunity and squeezing every last drop out of the day, then apparently I was either missing out, falling behind or failing at being a successful person. Then I realised half the things I was trying to fit in had ridiculous expectations, took up too much headspace and gave me absolutely nothing back. So I stopped. Not everything deserves a place in your week. Some things are not “important.” They’re just noisy, demanding and weirdly convinced they’re the main character. So I put them in my 30%. That’s where I found my three hours. To focus on things that really matter to me rather than what I think society expects of me. How do you get your 3 hours back every week? And if you don’t, what’s stopping you?

Ever found yourself suddenly mute when someone judges your mothering, career or childcare choices? Same. The backlash to Emma Grede’s “three-hour mum” comments really got me thinking about how quick we are to judge other women — even though none of us are living the same life. Some women have grandparents round the corner. Some have no support. Some can afford childcare. Some can’t. Some work because they love it. Some work because they have to. Some choose not to work at all and be at home as a full time mother. I had no parents living nearby, so we paid for every bit of childcare. At one point, two kids in nursery meant 80% of my salary went straight back out again. And from taking five years to fall pregnant, to hiring a nanny, to maternity leave, to working away, I’ve had the comments: Are you so ambitious that you don’t want kids? You’re working too much. You’re not working enough. Who’s looking after the kids? You’re going back already? Honestly? You will never please everyone. So my advice is do what’s right for you and your family, regardless of what other people think or say. Only you know what you’re doing and why you’re doing it. So here are the clapbacks I wish I’d had at the time — for anyone who’s ever smiled politely while silently combusting. And yes, I’ve judged too. Of course I have! Most of us have. The dream? For women to stop judging other women for decisions they’ve made for their life that we wouldn’t make ourselves. I’d love to hear your worst comments - and even better, your best quick-fire response! Imagine if we all had an arsenal of them in our back pockets!!

At 40, I had just had my third child and was about to embark on a seven-year, full-on editorship of Glamour magazine. I was hugely ambitious and thought I could do it all. I quickly realised that’s not possible. Not without dropping balls, losing sleep, making compromises and learning — often the hard way — that you cannot give 100% to everything and everyone without losing your mind. At 51, I think confidence is knowing you can’t do it all — and choosing, very deliberately, what matters most. The older I get, the more I realise that so much of life is learning what to ignore: other people’s expectations, unsolicited advice, the fear of changing course, the pressure to be liked, the idea that discomfort always means failure. Some things stretch you. Some things break you. The wisdom is learning the difference. What would you tell your 40-year-old self?

Following on from my Woman’s Hour chat yesterday, on whether women in their 50s should wear sheer, (obviously the answer is ‘yes’), thought I’d raid my own wardrobe for sheer items that I’ve worn and loved over the years. I do think people assume sheer means nude - but it definitely doesn’t have to be that way! Anyway, what do you think? Do I look inappropriate for my age ?? 😂 Will I get the body police talking?? This is definitely one of those situations in life that I feel we all need a couple of good clap backs up our sleeve for the naysayers! (All clap back ideas welcome!) #ootd #sheerclothing

Why are we even still asking whether women “should” wear sheer clothes? Should women over 50 wear transparent dresses? Should mothers wear lace tops? Should “normal women” show their bodies? Should we still want to look sexy once we’ve passed some invisible age checkpoint? And honestly — yes, we can. At all ages. But here’s where it gets complicated. Because I’m also the mother who didn’t want her 13-year-old buying a Brandy Melville see-through lace top because I felt it was inappropriate for her age. And I stand by that. Context matters. So no, this isn’t me saying everyone should be walking around half naked. Wear a polo neck. Wear a sheer dress. Wear a bin bag. The point is: let it be your choice. Because at 50, 51, 55, 60 — why should wanting to feel attractive suddenly become embarrassing? Why is it considered empowering when a 25-year-old shows her body, but “desperate” when a 50-year-old does it? Gwyneth at the Oscars looked incredible. So have countless women who are refusing to disappear into beige just because society has decided female visibility should come with an expiry date. But what about normal women? Women with soft stomachs, changed boobs, scars, stretch marks, perimenopause bloat, post-baby bodies, post-divorce bodies, post-life bodies? I think they should be allowed to feel sexy too. Not sexy for male approval. Not sexy because we owe anyone access to our bodies. Because confidence doesn’t belong only to youth. And maybe the real question isn’t: “Should women over 50 wear sheer clothes?” Maybe it’s: “Why does a visible older woman still make people so uncomfortable?” Because I don’t think sheer is the problem. I think women choosing to be seen is. Do you agree?

I’ve been inundated with responses to my post yesterday which tells us how loaded the work/life/motherhood balance conversation is for all of us. Because underneath the Emma Grede debate is a much bigger truth: women are not all playing with the same hand. We don’t all have the same jobs, the same childcare, the same finances, the same health, the same workplaces, the same ambitions or the same emotional bandwidth. So no, one model will never fit all. But we’re all guilty of judgement -I’ve been judged ‘are you really going back to work when your baby is only 5 months old?’ (Baby 1) ‘You’ve been on maternity leave for too long your brain’s gone to mush’ (baby 3). And (I’m being completely honest here), I’ve judged: ‘You’re not going back to work at all??’ We are all projecting our own decisions on other people - probably to make us feel better about our own decisions. But I do think this conversation is a reminder that having choices is a privilege. And if we are lucky enough to have them, then let’s extend the same grace to other women making different ones. Emma’s version of a good life at work or in motherhood doesn’t look like mine. Mine won’t look like yours. Yours won’t look like someone else’s. That doesn’t make any of us is wrong. Here’s to building a world and communities where women have more options, more support and hopefully, less judgement!!