They say the first cut is the deepest, and although I knew rejection would be very much part of the whole finding an agent palaver, I had no idea how I would stomach the words ‘thanks, but no thanks!’ Not very well, as it turned out.
Last Wednesday, when the message that bared the unpleasant news hit my inbox, a whole array of self-diminishing, nagging thoughts took over my thinking. My favourite went something along the lines of ‘Why don’t you stick to what you are good at – have another baby and just be happy with being a housewife, for chrissake!’ It’s funny (well, not really) how one single rejection from one single agent made me question much more than just the idea of myself as a writer. It made me once again question my self-worth based on my current occupation (mother, housewife, homemaker).
All I wanted to do was pull the duvet back over my head and dunk a Hobnob into a cup of tea – which is a bit contra productive when all you should do is dust yourself off, try again and stay away from that biscuit tin (if you actually want to wear a bikini this summer).
But luckily for me, I had been invited to the Petit Bateau flagship store opening in London’s Marylebone that same Wednesday. And I had accepted, so there was no way out. Once the babysitter had arrived, I quickly ran a brush through the ruffled mob on my head, dusted some blusher on my cheeks and left the house with my scarf flapping behind me in the wind. My mood lifted as soon as I turned around the first corner, and by the time I got off the tube at Baker Street, the spring in my step was back and the world looked a lot less bleak.
I was greeted by PR Emily and a glass of champagne, both of which I met with great enthusiasm. Emily showed me around the latest store (gorgeously adorned by Petit Bateau memorabilia like in the picture above), introduced me to the new Petit Bateau polo range (of course, I had to get a pale pink dress for little L) and discretely informed me why that tall girl with the gorgeous face looked so familiar (google Jaquetta Wheeler and you will soon find out).
After another glass of champagne, a few Laduree canapés and some enjoyable chatter with a lovely lady from the Daily Mail (yes, they do exist!), I left the party with the following insights:
- This blog is a heaven-sent. It’s fun, support, dialogue and… champagne.
- There’s no point in pulling the duvet over your head forever. Just put yourself out there and get on with life.
- I am not only good at hatching and popping out little girls; I even know where to buy them cute clothes.
- A tipsy-on-champagne Powerplate session is something I will not try again.