Sandy Burgham: When reality bites into dreams of 'Cosmo' girl

I was raised as a real Cosmo girl, meaning that most of my cues as to how I was supposed to behave came directly from the pages of the women-who-want-it-all magazine Cosmopolitan, a hip product that had emerged from the swinging 60s.

Go on the pill and go for your life, a million ways to please him in bed, dress snappy for that hot promotion, how to fob off an amorous boss without losing your job, and other such essential advice, which my impressionable 14-year-old pals and I lapped up for future reference.

So when Cosmo creator Helen Gurley Brown wrote her cheesy best-seller for girls, Having it All, it was a given that I embraced it as a mantra and started dutifully climbing the corporate ladder as she had suggested.

In the early stages of my journey I couldn't see what the fuss about equality was all about. It seemed okay to me, and I was happy to relay this view to a newspaper that interviewed me about being an ambitious young thing.

Hmmm, I soon realised, this was not so smart a move. My naivety immediately hit a nerve with older, wiser, battle-weary members of the bra-burning generation, one of whom was compelled to invite me to lunch to set the record straight. (Incidentally she has since found her way into politics, as they so often do.)

"So you don't think your sex will disadvantage your career," she smirked. "See you in 10 years, dearie," she said, patting me on the head.

Yes, well, I was soon to see she had a point. The glass-ceiling phenomenon was in full swing in the 1980s and the early 1990s and it was soon after those tiresome years that I, like many other products of my generation, reinvented myself as a part-time, self-employed, working mother.

But this, of course, came to be just another take on having it all and came with its own set of problems.

This is the story of that pocket of women sandwiched between corporate shoulder-padded career women and the non-committal younger generation who idealistically plan to one day enjoy the fruits of motherhood while working for themselves - preferably part-time. ("We'll see you in 10 years, dearies," I smirk as I figuratively pat them on the head.)

The quest to have it all has all been a bit of a con for many of us. While we could never turn back the clock now, how we wish we were a little clearer in the brief.

For some reason even those who chose not to work and devoted themselves to a life of primary caregiving might not have it all but have certainly adopted a slogan of doing it all.

My friends who have given up paid employment have simply plugged the gap with playcentre obligations and extramural study. One is even planning to start a special high school. All in their so-called spare time. It's a middle-class female affliction. We just can't help ourselves.

I was lucky enough to meet Gurley Brown a few years ago. She is a phenomenal creature, warm and open, quite fascinating to watch, as is her big-shot luvvie of a husband, who was clearly still courting her. Yes, she had it all, all right.

But, then again, I wonder if her choice of not having any pesky children who divert your attention, divide your loyalties and ruin your figure had anything to do with it.

I would blow him kisses, too, if I wasn't preoccupied with cutting lunches and checking for head lice.

Having it all comes with a whole lot of extra baggage. Let's not forget the "I have needs, too" and "the I want to be treated like a lady" arguments in a world where Mr Right seems thin on the ground.

This usually fuels the tedious "men are confused" debate, which I was a tad sympathetic to until I read a report that men who are statistically proven to do less around the house are still happy to enjoy the bounty of a two-person household.

For many years there was almost a conspiracy of silence among working mums since no one wanted to let the side down by surrendering. We were our own worst enemy.

But I sense a change in the wind - the emergence of the woman who "doesn't want quite as much, thanks" and a refreshing honesty.

At last women are being straight about the price one has to pay, be it squeezing a full-time job into two days with a pay cut or not seeing your children that much.

"Sod having it all," said one senior executive with whom I spoke. "I just want my house, their car and some pocket money to burn."

Another - a cool, calm, collected company director and mother of two - answered my "How are you?" opener with "Oh, you know, a mouse on a treadmill."

She is totally sincere when she says she works less for mental stimulation and more for the addiction to those little things that money can buy. She is full of admiration for the odd female executive who does surrender to the household or takes a wild punt on an alternative lifestyle choice.

So, after many years of endeavouring to have it all, here's my advice for the new generation of Cosmopolitan readers: you might be able to have it all, but not all at once. Don't be dazzled by the smorgasbord of options out there, take it in bite-sized chunks. You can always go back for seconds.

* Sandy Burgham is an Auckland marketing consultant.

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