This month Verve celebrates Fifty Plus women, as many of you are members extraordinaire of this vital cohort, living life with goals and ambitions not imagined even a generation ago. We are proud to be able to share a few inspirational stories and insights from three beautiful women who tell us to “Forget your age – it’s just a number;” “Live like you’re 30;” “Live each day like it’s your last.”
Vicki Holder
My mum had barricaded herself in her room after an argument between her and Dad. I think I was only 11 at the time. Dad had a plan. Lining us three siblings up in the kitchen, he looked me squarely in the eye. “What are you going to cook for dinner Vicki?”
Why me? Why not my brothers? That’s not how it was in the fantasy novels. Because you’re a girl. There it was. My gender was this hideous burden. Girls cook, get married, have babies, do what they’re told, stay at home. That’s when I realised, I was outta there. Hastings and small-town New Zealand had rigid expectations that I loathed. It was so prescriptive and boring. Whatever you did, you were judged on how and where you fitted in.
First chance, I ran off to Canterbury University. I studied French – for my European travels – and Sociology to better understand the dynamics that underpinned my life. It unleashed a whole new open-ended world.
I got into journalism and writing hoping for freedom. The best thing it gave me was access to the people who have insights and knowledge you can’t ordinarily find. It also helped me explore the ideas and stories that make up our world and led me to art, movies, theatre, events.
Being open and curious keeps me relevant – and young at heart. Ever since I turned 40, I’ve lied about my age. It’s nobody’s business but mine. It’s simply my way of combatting rampant ageism.
By the way, what did I make for dinner? Nothing. It was a defining moment. I said, let’s go out. And we did.
As for my most memorable meal – cooked by my mum of course – Sticky ginger and pineapple pork chops on rice followed by coffee pavlova from the Triple Tested Cookbook. Super-calorific, cholesterol city, delicious!
Deborah Delaney
Growing up in Sydney in the ’60s was enormous fun. My parents ran a pub in Balmain, a diverse, working-class suburb, and a cultural melting pot. I loved it but couldn’t wait to see the world, so after a brief stint as a psychiatric nurse I headed to New Zealand on the first leg of my OE.
Auckland in the ’70s was a shock. No wine bars, no delicatessens, no Saturday shopping, no Italians! But happily, a husband, two babies, and domestic bliss in a Devonport villa more than made up for not being able to get a decent coffee.
My career blossomed in the ’80s. I worked in fashion PR and publishing and travelled and partied in true Ab Fab style. While holidaying in Hawaii I met a handsome Texan, and after a whirlwind romance, we married, moved to America and lived the dream.
His job took us all over the States, staying at luxury resorts in beautiful locations. My job entailed organising cocktail parties and gala dinners for the rich and famous — events to impress and cost was no concern. It was a wonderful, heady time but after the birth of my second daughter, Auckland beckoned. I couldn’t wait to show off my beautiful baby, as well as my new event management skills.
Over 20 years later, I’m blessed to be working on some of the biggest events in the country and I still love the thrill when everything comes together and everyone has a great time.
Person I admire the most? My mother. She can make a meal out of anything.
Best advice I was ever given? Work like you’re 30.
Kristina Barraud
If I was to die tomorrow it would be after a full, crazy, educated, adventurous, wonderful life.
Leaving New Zealand, a very naive 18-year-old, I spent my 19th birthday at the YWCA in downtown LA, gaping at gun-toting policemen on the streets, followed by four years in Europe, returning to New Zealand, travelling overland from London via Afghanistan to Singapore in 1972.
Twenty-five years working in the film industry, a BA in spatial design and MA in art and design. I have been fortunate to have visited every continent and now reside in the balmy Cook Islands, enjoying white sand with palm trees swaying in the south sea breeze; three wonderful children, four beautiful grandchildren and looking forward to more!
When my sister and I were aged five and seven years respectively, our parents set off to travel round the world for six months, leaving us in the care of a Scottish nanny, my memories of breakfasts at that time was Gladys, our nanny, telling us to be careful of the ‘fart in the pan.’
My mother, having been raised on a South Island farm, lived through two world wars, the Spanish flu, the Depression, the introduction of the telephone, television and the arrival of the man on the moon; she was an excellent cook and considered breakfast as the most important meal of the day. She prepared regular breakfasts of cereal and rhubarb from my father’s vegetable garden, smoked fish with capers, lambs fry, kidneys and bacon, mince on toast and brain fritters to name but a few meals from her vast repertoire. Mum died aged 97, I truly hope to live as long as she did.
