Hazel’s House is an online clothing store based in New Zealand. When she’s not attempting to source exclusive brands at non-exclusive prices, Hazel sometimes writes blog posts…
This question was asked in my last job interview, and is the main reason that I have never attended a speed dating session. What do I do for fun? How am I supposed to answer that?
If you wanted an honest answer it would go something like this:
I spend hours and hours shopping online. And I mean hours. There are months and months of my life that I have wasted watching reality television. Jersey Shore, Geordie Shore, The Valleys, Catfish, Kim and Kourtney take Miami, Teen Mom, Teen Mom 2, oh the list is endless. I will never get that time back, and I’m not sorry.
This one time, in the Bahamas, it was overcast and showery, and there was a weird “nightclub promoter” loitering around the bottom of the stairs outside my room, so I hid in my room and watched a whole season of Long Island Medium. I was in the Bahamas and I spent the better part of a day watching TV. Still not sorry.
I like to drink wine, and I’m partial to a bit of cheese. By a bit I mean a block. Or a wheel, or a wedge, just however it comes really. Sometimes I’ll watch TV, shop online, eat cheese and drink wine all at the same time. Heck, on the odd occasion I’ll even do all of the above with a friend, just so that people don’t accuse me of being a wine drinking, cheese eating loner.
How does that sound in an interview though? Can you say that? “For fun I sloth around in my comfy pants, with a laptop and an iPad, drinking wine, eating cheese and watching trashy TV.” (Please don’t tell my mum that I eat in the TV room, she thinks that the cats carry the crumbs in on their dirty little paws.)
I also like to lie in the sun and read, particularly if I’m wearing SPF6 coconut tanning oil, and especially if I’m drinking cider and happen to be in the Greek Islands. Who wouldn’t like that? I guess I could say “I like to travel” but then your potential employer thinks that you’ll be applying for 12 weeks of annual leave after your third week, and that you’ll do the whole “well my flights are already booked, so if you decline my leave I’ll resign.”
I like to get facials. Not the ones where they put all the cream on cos that just makes my face look like an oil slick, “don’t worry” they say “this is formulated for oily skin” they say. I then spend the rest of the day looking like I mistook canola oil for moisturiser. I like the facials where they scrub off a few layers of skin, leaving you pink faced and super sensitive to sunlight. If you bust that out in an interview does it make you sound vain? Do they assume that by week six you’ll be saying “I have to leave early today, I have an appointment” and they know that appointment is for super powered micro-dermabrasion?
One thing I don’t do for fun is get a mani/pedi at one of those places in the mall. Not only do I get anxiety thinking about the bacteria in the foot spa. You sit there, in the massage chair that never quite reaches the knots in your back, with some poor girl who is not even trying to pretend that she enjoys pushing your cuticles back. I always feel so sorry for them, I highly doubt that growing up in South East Asia, she dreamt about moving to New Zealand to chip glitter polish off toe nails.
The staff in the nail place never seem to speak any English, cos I always interrogate them on where they’re from and when they moved to NZ, how many brothers and sisters they have and if they go home to visit them. I find myself wondering how they got a work visa. I usually decide that they don’t have a work visa, and so they’re probably getting paid under the table. As an accountant, I spend the next few minutes trying to figure out how they manage to pay all the visa-less staff under the table. It can hardly be a contra arrangement, you can’t pay someone in nail polish and cheap moisturiser.
All in all, mall pedicures: not a relaxing experience for me.
I like to exercise, but I hate team sports. It’s not that I hate the team part of it, more that I can’t catch a ball, or hit it with a racquet, or a bat. If I’m being honest, I can’t catch either. This still disappoints my dad. I was an only child for four and a half years, so for that time I was the only Olympic hopeful he had. He’d spend hours and hours (and hours) trying to teach me to catch and throw, thinking that if he threw a ball straight at my face really fast, I would have to catch it(reflexive action apparently). Nope. Didn’t happen. These lessons always ended the same: me being smashed in the face with a basketball/ softball/tennis ball/all of the above, me running inside crying to mum, and dad: not sorry.
Thankfully my baby sister arrived, and even as an infant, her ball skills were more advanced than mine. A collective sigh of relief was heard from my parents. I still spent my childhood being yelled at from the sidelines of the netball court (mum tried to ban dad, but he wouldn’t have a bar of it) and it wasn’t until my early 20’s when an optometrist told me that the astigmatisms in both my eyes send such different messages to my brain that I shouldn’t even be able to stand up without glasses on, let alone perform any task that requires depth perception.
I get eyelash extensions for fun. They’re pretty subtle, and I quite enjoy when people say “are those your eyelashes??” I use the line that Nicky Watson used when asked if her massive breasts were her own: “yes, they’re mine, I paid for them”. Which probably still wasn’t entirely true in Nicky’s case, I reckon her hubby, ol’ Eric probably coughed up the cash for those, but why oh why did she claim they were “natural” all that time?!?!
I get eye lashes cos I love that nearly every day becomes “make up free day” (when it used to only be Sundays), but I also enjoy that for two hours I have to lie there, on a comfy bed, with my eyes closed, doing absolutely nothing. You can’t do a thing. Can’t even upload a selfie to insta! It’s absolute bliss. Well no, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. It would be absolute bliss if I had to lie perfectly still for two hours, covered in SPF6 coconut tanning oil, on a beach in the Greek Islands. It would be even better if I could get some of those little fish to nibble my feet while I lie in the sun, covered in SPF6 coconut tanning oil, getting my lashes done. Fresh fish though, from the wild. Not ones that are potentially carrying Hep B in their little mouths. And I’d need a straw for the cider.
Is that be too long winded to be a suitable response in said interview?
I can tell you what else I don’t do for fun: Sudoku. Never completed one in my life. Not even the “easy” one in the book in the seat pocket on the plane. I’m good with numbers, I can add them up and take them off, multiply and divide them, I can even tell you almost instantly, which number would come next in one of those patterns that’s meant to make you think really hard. But can I line them up and down and around in the box so that there’s no repeats. No, no I can not. That would be a good response in an interview though. “For fun I like to do Sudoku”. Must remember that for next time, and just pray that they don’t ask me to demonstrate my talents.
I would like to take this opportunity to solemnly swear, that when Hazel’s House gets to the point of having to hire staff, I will never ask applicants what they do for fun. Maybe I’ll ask them to guess what I do for fun, and that will be a great test to see if they’ve ever read this blog.
Speaking of Hazel’s House, it’s going well, thanks for asking. I caught up with the amazing Erin and the super cute Alfie to check out the Sass and Fate summer ranges. It drops in September/October and is my third order from Erin, and I find myself not being as cautious as I was when ordering the drops for May/June. I’m getting the hang of buying things for other people and not saying “oh, no, I would never wear that!” – it’s not all about me!
The Sass and Fate tran-seasonal range finally arrived. Only took two weeks to get from the Auckland warehouse to Hazel’s House. Erin did say something about a gun man and a hold up and hostages…sounds like the sort of excuse I use when I’m late to work, but it turns out the freight company was telling the truth, see, look here!
Erin has started me on the hunt for a model and a photographer, so that when the last of the launch stock arrives next month I can do a photo shoot. Might have to Google how to do one of those.
I’ve booked in a few more Hazel’s House parties which I really need to learn to be more serious about instead of treating it like a stand up comedy show where I’m the joke.
My amazing parents have exhibited monk like patience with boxes and boxes of stock turning up. My mum even sneaks out of work to meet the courier and sign for the deliveries. She’s only asked me four times this week when I’m moving out…