The pitch

As a 24 year old* at the peak of my womanhood (according to 1950s Woman’s Day), I, like Jane, Betty, Joanie and Midge, am also desperately chasing Don Draper. Except, of course, for all the wrong reasons. I'm just after his creative mind; the creative body I can leave for the birds (no pun intended). Too Body Snatchers-esque? Let's go with it for now.

With my lustful want of the right side of his brain, it shouldn’t take much to concoct this scene setting: me, Don Draper, our first time together. My mind was racing, my tongue tossing half-headlines between me and myself, desperate to reach it before he did. Then, it happened. My fists relaxed, my knees went gleefully weak and the left side of my lips crept upwards when I saw Don Draper ravage it for the first time. Lucky Stripe that is. Brief cracked, absolutely brilliantly. The sex scenes were decent too, but surely that’s just the fodder.

So here I am, chasing Don Draper in Dubai. And while it’d be great to be focused and pretend this blog would be executed end-to-end with a purely advertising / marketing / creative devotion, I’m entirely too e.e. cummings for that (my rambling stream of consciousness-self that is; although I do have quite the affinity for lowercase letters too). Rather, I’m sure this will serve as some dizzying montage, an answer to the my head’s crazy synapses firing faster than I can usually keep up with. I halfway expect there to be gallivanting commentary on Chanel Rouge #22, the Palestinian-Israeli conflict and avocado ice cream with bacon sprinkles (extra points for fitting them all in one entry).

So here we're perched. Blank canvas. Cue ‘A Beautiful Mine’ by RJD2 and let’s go.

*Ridiculous but true – in less than 24 hours, I’ll be celebrating my 25th birthday. This was finally enough of a catalyst to wrench me from the procrastination of starting this blog; coining myself younger than a quarter century one last time.