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Posts by Lauren Allchurch:

Cold comfort from South West Trains

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There’s snow forecast for today! I’ve cancelled my meetings, diverted my phone line, stocked up on non-perishables and told all my clients that my internet service will probably go down in the extreme weather, so they are unlikely to hear from me.

Of course, I haven’t really done all this.  It would be a huge overreaction to the forecast snow that might cause problems.  However, South West Trains seem to think this is totally acceptable behaviour.

Despite recently stating that I would no longer complain about SWT (such was the regularity of my rants, I was worried they might take out a hit on me) I feel compelled to highlight this latest faux pas. Because of the forecast, my travel nemesis has pre-emptively cancelled many of its services across the region, and is operating a reduced timetable – or as they call it, a ‘special timetable’ – on the ones it is keeping open.

When I checked earlier, it had even published a special timetable for the weekend, showing numerous closed stations throughout both days. Sunday is TWO DAYS away! I’m not saying that SWT should throw caution to the wind and carry passengers along possibly fatal ice tracks, but surely we should at least try and get on with our lives as normal until we are unable to do otherwise? And perhaps assess on a day-by-day basis what will be possible, and what will not? I find it hard to believe we have an accurate picture of the weather conditions on Sunday just yet.

Anyway, enough complaining. If SWT is determined to give me a snow day I suppose I’ll just have to make the most of it. Luckily (for some), Orange broadband seems to have a more ‘can do’ attitude, so clients, it’s business as usual.

A Licence to Sell

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Forget Pussy – it’s Adverts Galore at the new Bond film. Velvet’s Lauren Allchurch shares her views on the growing commercialisation of the Bond films.

Credit: Sony Pictures

Much fuss has been made about Bond’s taste for Heineken in the latest in the line of blockbusters, Skyfall. After having seen it last night, I wouldn’t say it was a particularly big deal – yes he was swigging from a stubby at one point, but in the wilderness in Turkey, shacked up with an unnamed lover, he’s hardly going to be able to sit in her wooden hut sipping his favourite tipple from a martini glass. As for the ‘blatant’ Scrabble logo on the bottom of Q’s glass – a few people in the cinema muttered in disapproval, but the clip was so brief that I just assumed I’d missed some sort of practical joke, like those ‘I’m a tw*t’ mugs you see featured in every student household.

That’s not to say I particularly enjoyed the film – the bit where Bond seems to become a hybrid of Arnie in Commando and Kevin from Home Alone setting boobytraps in the Scottish highlands is totally ridiculous (you know where the bad guy is heading – just hide a few snipers in the grass and send in the marines!) – for me, the worst part about the commercialisation of Bond was in the lead up to the film. Almost every advert – and there were 30 minutes of them – featured a Bond-themed car, phone, video game, watch – at one point there was even an advert for the Bond film (hello? I’m pretty sure you’ve already sold me on that one). I almost expected the audience to come out of the cinema shimmying along the walls, whispering ‘come in 006’ into their Sony Xperia. I know that every man from child to grandfather harbours a not-so-secret ambition to be a secret agent, but surely the Bond product mania is overkill for most of the population. If anything, it put me off – but then since I’m not in the position to be purchasing an Omega or an Aston Martin, I doubt anyone’s going to lose any sleep over that.

Shaken and stirred: a beginner’s guide to UK casinos

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At Velvet we love a good staff outing. Festivals, afternoon tea, theme parks – you name it, we’ve done it. And we’re always looking to try something different, so when it was suggested we learn how to play poker, we jumped at the chance and booked in for a private texas hold ‘em lesson at the Sportsman casino, based in the rather swanky Mayfair area. Now, when it comes to visiting casinos, the Velveters have rather different levels of experience. I used to work for a casino chain in my hometown, the glamorous Swansea and as such have visited a fair few of them – and yes, admittedly there have been times where I’ve ended up chucking my last tenner onto the roulette wheel in a central London dive at the end of a night out. As such I knew what to expect, an ‘interesting’ clientele, a well lit room and slightly dodgy carpet. However, this was not the case across the board.

 

Image taken from the Sportsman casino website

 

As we walked through the deceptively shiny entrance area into the main casino, there was a sharp intake of breath from those kitted out in LBDs and heels… “this is NOTHING like Monte Carlo!”. It seems that if you’ve never visited a UK-based casino before, what you expect is rather like what you see in James Bond movies or adverts for luxury watches – glamorous women, tanned men with money clips, free flowing champers and a valet out the front to park the Ferrari. There was nothing wrong with the Sportsman, I hasten to add, and our instructor Wayne had the patience of a saint with a collection of the worlds’ least promising poker players, but it appears that the film and advertising industry is spoiling us with unrealistic images of glamour that very rarely exist – at least in the UK.

Once the initial shock had worn off and we settled into the quiet corner table and started to get the hang of the game we all agreed that it was a thoroughly good night out. There were even a few surprise successes on the night (must have been that lucky LBD, eh Jo). We even had to drag a certain associate director off the roulette wheel before she spun away all her winnings. We all came away with poker fever, and have even decided to play amongst ourselves  now and again (for stakes as high as cups of tea and washing up duties) so we can hone our skills ready to win some cash off unsuspecting poker fans. Sportsman – we’ll be back.  Look out Wayne, we’re coming to get you.

PRs better than most other professionals when it comes to responsiveness

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I’m not sure if it’s just me, but if I have an issue with a big company and their call centre is proving a nightmare, my next port of call is always the PR team. This is for two reasons – firstly, and obviously, because I hope they see my problem as a potential front page scandal that needs to be contained. However, it’s also because people who work in PR are actually pretty good at getting things done. This is something I don’t think we get enough credit for.

I recently undertook some research into the responsiveness of PR people compared to those in other professions. Well, I say research –  I actually organised a hen do abroad for a friend who works in PR and 30 friends, around half of whom work in the industry. I can conclusively say that whenever I sent out an email asking the attendees questions or requesting various bits and bobs (I won’t go into detail about these on a business blog), it was always the PR people who were first to respond. The teachers were generally average, the lawyers poor and the doctors and students… I just won’t go there. It’s not because they’ve got too much time on their hands,  it’s that people who work in PR have it drilled into them that you need to be quick, responsive, effective and efficient – and here, I think we outshine pretty much any profession out there.

PR is a profession that is often looked down upon, with the stereotypical PR girl often considered a fluffy airhead. This view is completely outdated – PR is now a genuinely challenging job, and some of the brightest, sharpest and most switched on people I know have made a successful career out of it. I for one am proud to be flying the flag for PR. However, if you have any complaints about my clients, please direct them to their customer services departments.

My high street – #1

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It’s a well known fact that UK high streets are only just ambling along; one in seven shops are boarded up and the pride we once had in our local high streets is dwindling, so we’re told. This got the Velvet clan thinking. How are our own local high streets performing? and do we still have a strong social connection with them? They always say ‘look closer to home’, so here we are, stopping and observing, and discovering whether our local high streets leave us feeling proud or disappointed. Each Velveteen will take it in turn to spend a bit of time window shopping in their local high street and diarising what they find, materially and emotionally. Kicking off our high street blog is Lauren Allchurch, Velvet’s lady from Wales, and her report from Wandsworth. When I moved up to London from Mumbles – a fishing village in the Gower Peninsula (if you believe the Zeta-Jones hype. A nice place for a pint or ice-cream if you actually live there), I must admit I was dreading the transition. I’d lived in north London six years back and was overwhelmed with the busyness, the noise, the stabbing near my front door. So, finding somewhere decent to live was a huge consideration. I’d first become aware of Wandsworth when a friend from Uni moved into a flat next to the common, and I visited her for the weekend. It was a revelation – “That’s grass… there’s a river… oh my god, a duck!” So, when making the move, I had my heart set on the South West area. After sending my poor London-located other half on a tour of around 50 flats, we eventually settled on a nice two-bed, five minutes from Wandsworth Town station. Now, Wandsworth Town is a classic London contradiction. Walk for ten minutes in one direction and you come to Southside Shopping Centre – a mid-sized mall development, home to a Topshop, H&M, TK Maxx, Boots –all the usual suspects. In the surrounding area there’s a big Sainsos, kebab shops, a huge town hall, old-man pubs (The Spread Eagle – need I say more?!) – it has the feel of a city centre, albeit a small one. However, ten minutes in the other direction, is Old York Road, Wandsworth Town’s high street – or ‘The Village’ as we like to call it. This was where I was sold – if you conjure up almost the exact opposite of city centre, this will be probably be pretty close to what you have in mind. Yes, it does have the obligatory Pizza Express, a collection of estate agents and a Sainsburys local, but those anomalies aside, you might as well be in an English village. There are some real local gems here – so refreshing to see in the middle of London. Here are a few of my favourites:

  • Brady’s restaurant, which is run by who I can only assume is Mr Brady, an amusing man who seems to have a habit of going around the restaurant filling up the late stayers’ wine glasses (and his own) free of charge. The menu is inexpensive and simple – fish, chips and salad – they don’t take bookings and it’s always rammed – “sorry, go for a pint, come back in ten” is the usual greeting. Happy to oblige.
  • The Pantry, a great little cafe where I’ve had many a Saturday morning poached egg. It’s got one of those ‘sit round a massive table like a big family’ ambiances – not that I’ve ever struck up a conversation with a stranger, but I bet more sociable people do.

    The Pantry – home from home

  • Of course, no high street is complete without a good pub, and the Village has The Alma. OK, it’s not outstanding – if it had a beer garden I’d probably spend a lot more time in there – but it’s one of Youngs’ better creations and a good portion of my monthly wages are spent behind the bar. It’s big, has a lovely restaurant and hotel for the parents / in-laws (so they don’t have to stay at yours), and most importantly, it’s friendly – I happily watched a rugby international on my own in there once after getting locked out, and I’m Welsh.

For the traditionalist – The Alma Wandsworth

  • A local favourite is The Goodness Station. I have no idea what this early morning pop-up kitchen outside the overground entrance is actually called, but this is what a friend has christened it. The same friend is so enamoured with their bacon rolls that he often misses his train to work when it’s a choice between that and getting his brekkie. They must have the highest number of regulars of any shop on the street – anything that can get my boyfriend out of bed ten minutes early has got to be excellent.
  • Admittedly, I’ve never actually been in my final choice, Tonsley Antiques, but I’ve made so many mental notes to go there and get a picture I bought in December 2010 framed I might as well have been (also I’m aware that all the above are food or drink related). I bet it’s some sort of family shop that’s been there for generations. And it makes me smile every time I walk past and there’s a note in the window saying ‘I’m in the Pantry if you need me’. That’s proper village for you.

Tonsley Fine Arts and Antiques

The smooth face of success

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I don’t have an age complex. Yes, I am rapidly racing towards the end of my twenties, but I’m pretty happy with where my life is at the moment. A stellar list of achievements that includes a clean (ish) driving license, no criminal record, avoidance of jury service and the occasional shop at Waitrose. However, sometimes, something comes along that makes me feel a little inferior about my achievements to date. A recent case in point. Last month I was invited along to the 2012 Mobile Retail Summit, and after a hearty breakfast I took my seat for a debate about mobile advertising. The panel was introduced; an impressive line up of CEOs and COOs – so far, so standard. However, on further inspection, one thing was very apparent. These young men sitting in front of the 300-strong audience – fresh faced, clean shaven and barely-out-of-Uni – were not interns saving the seats for the company heavyweights. These guys were actually the real deal.

Suited child fronts Velvet Toilet Tissue Ad

The face of success is getting some serious botox at the moment. Flash back 50 years and the number of board directors under 40, or even 50, were few and far between. Now, no-one bats an eyelid at a twenty-something chief exec, particularly within technology. And, industry giants of old are now relying on people half their age to keep their businesses competitive. This may all seem like stating the obvious – the younger generation has grown up with the internet so is bound to have a better grasp of the new technology  – but with the bad press the youth in this country get, it’s worth noting. Away from the hoodies helping themselves to a new pair of Nikes out of a trashed Footlocker, there are a lot of bright minds out there driving this country forward to bigger and better things.