In my quest for employment in this new country I have filled out many, many applications and received various responses. Having previously lived on a little Caribbean island such matters was relatively simple – work was subject to who knew you and word of mouth. Indeed I was never asked to submit a CV nor indeed fill out an application – you met with prospective employer, discussed the position and job description and you were hired or not. So it puzzles me how complicated a seemingly straightforward hiring process becomes, take the following for instance:

I have been accepted for a position (hooray) that is both part time and seasonal. I am extremely pleased because it works well with my family’s needs etc. so this is good news indeed but it is a counter job, nothing more nothing less. The job would be subject to various checks. Fair enough, I had expected references to be followed up after all nobody knows me from Adam in the UK and I could be a dodgy mum–on-the-run. And while it’s not my intention to undermine anyone’s work however I was astonished at the amount of paperwork involved: 6 different forms (and not just single sheets), to be sent to 3 different places within a 2 week period. Subsequently all references, right to work/citizenship, police records and bank records have been checked. Impressive indeed, but perhaps a little out of balance all things considered.

The reference agency sent two forms for my former boss to complete and return by fax. He called me from the Caribbean “Congratulations Darling” (he’s very posh and clipped) “What’s this job then Darling? Got the faxes. Good God it must be extraordinary!” and then went on to assure me that he had faxed them back once he was able to find his glasses, made a pot of coffee and tackle the screeds. I was tempted to embellish and tell him that it was a massively paid, company car, illustrious jet-sety type job but fessed up to a part time, seasonal behind the counter one instead - much to his amusement.

The health form was 8 pages long and thoroughly detailed. Some questions were obviously relevant to the job in question, but there were a few that I could not see as being pertinent at all such as “Whether or not I’m a left or right handed shot?” Huh? Others just being downright nosy such as “Do any of your hobbies expose you to vibrating tools?”

All this makes me wonder how much information is too much information...certainly its necessary to cover the essentials but I can’t imagine my (hopefully) future employer is even remotely interested in my vibrating hobbies but maybe I’m wrong.

I had two interviews this week for two very different jobs which is a good thing. However, I was confronted with the eternal dilemma of what to wear. Having always preferred classic, timeless pieces and not being a dedicated follower of fashion hasn’t helped my quest for employment. I am beginning to believe that one also has to dress for the job – not necessarily the interview – in other words dress down for garden centres and up for offices. This is contrary to my previous assumption of always portraying oneself as professionally as possible but having bombed at all my interviews thus far, or at least having received enough rejection letters to fill up my recycling bin, I’ve had to review myself and my wardrobe considerably. I’ve come up with the following three:

Spring has sprung
This fun approach consists of colour and light layers. Frivolous, I know, but can be subdued with sensible shoes to portray you as a “balanced” individual. The benefit of this outfit is that it makes YOU feel cheerful no matter the outcome. Be cautioned however, this is an outfit that will probably not deliver the required result; it is as it is – entirely light-hearted.

Undertaker
A sombre business look consisting of various layers of black: black underwear, tights, suit, and overcoat. Black shoes with a killer heel to prove you are tough and aspirational. Lest you think otherwise, this outfit will never be confused with S/M or anything remotely close and you’ll benefit from being perceived in the vein it's intended – serious...deadly serious! My problem with this look is that it lacks imagination; life is short and do I really want to assume such dress everyday in order to convince others that I'm capable? Nonetheless, this is a popular look and therefore a strong, safe contender.

Happening
This look shows you’ve really studied your form. You’re up to the minute and dare I say trendy (gasp!). Wide trousers that kick out to balance the shoulders (and obscure the bottom) and so long that they whisper against the floor (unless you get the shoes wrong and they drag along unattractively). Tops that display your professional décolletage in neutral colours of olive, light brown and bronze, with perhaps a hint of a playful necklace. Jackets can be bold and draw attention to whatever waistline you have. Yes, there are a lot of benefits to this look: it shows you have imagination and are current. But it can be difficult to get right and when it’s not, it’s awful - if in doubt consult a professional!

Conclusion: Discard all of the above and wear something that fits.

As a result of winning a Career Makeover courtesy of The Argus a month ago, I have been asked to write a blog about the trials and tribulations of job hunting in the UK.

My day-long makeover was fun and informative and made me look at myself from a more of a UK perspective. How I dress, how I think, my CV and my skills all have a bearing on how I’m perceived. It’s all about presentation. Although I knew this before my makeover, I wasn’t achieving the desired results and there’s nothing wrong with asking for help if you need it. I did - and have more focus as a result.

Winning the makeover was an ‘aha’ moment – but why did a seemingly confident, capable person need to apply in the first place?

This is where my blog truly begins. It’s all about making changes: once a goal has been achieved, even though the realisation may dawn well past the due date, I seek another - the reason for evolving into a skilled Jill of all Trades. I have been fortunate and I know I am responsible for the changes I’ve made, so I am not seeking pity for my current situation, just clarity and direction.

I lived on the Caribbean island of St Martin/Sint Maarten for 18 years until July last year. The island is located south of Anguilla and north of Antigua. It’s small - only 38 square miles - and bustling, busier than you’d expect. The island is split into a French side (a province of France) and a Dutch (part of the Netherlands Antilles, under the Kingdom of Holland.

Living there was not quite as idyllic as people imagine – it has ups and downs, recessions, hurricanes, manic high seasons and nail biting low seasons, but there certainly are palm trees and beautiful beaches. Island life becomes addictive, a transitional place for many and, without doubt, a wonderful place for young children to develop.

For the past five years I worked in incredible surroundings at The Butterfly Farm, St Martin FWI. I was a manager/guide and the farm was perfect place for me to work while coping with divorce and settling the children. Working with nature makes you appreciate how clever it is, adaptable and fragile at the same time. We can take so many metaphors from nature and I was surrounded by them. I also supplemented my income with massage, working freelance at Spas or with my regular clients and thoroughly enjoyed the balance of these two roles.

This all changed three years ago when I met the man of my dreams and my goals shifted. I moved to the UK after 18 years of island living, set up life with a new partner, moved to a new area, relocated two recalcitrant children, and settled them into respective schools. I also set about finding a meaningful career – the “life with purpose” thang. However, that last goal has eluded me so far, but this is the story of my endeavours and fun along the way.

My work path has been varied over the years: typesetting and administrator for creative departments in advertising; go-fer cum bookkeeper cum receptionist cum stylist for professional photographers; barmaid and waitress; grape-picker (albeit not for long!); and door to door oil painting salesperson (ditto). But all that was all a very long time ago.

More recently I’ve been an inventory controller for retail outlets, a bookkeeper on different programs freelance and part time. I’ve also typed and edited books on alternative health, worked as an administrator at a Montessori School, a massage therapist and Reiki master, a spa director and and a butterfly farmer.

Sint Maarten depends on tourism entirely, so that’s the area where there’s work. I worked for the 18 years I lived there. My first job on the island was as a Bar Manager in the old Turtle Pier Bar days, where the Friday night parties were so loud that the decks rocked and groaned. Turtle Pier was a spacious, wooden, gingerbread Caribbean style building with a circular bar and large shutter windows and views of the blue green hills surrounding the lagoon.

It had a wonderful ambience and truly terrible food. The owner was the son of the then leader of the island, so the Friday night parties were tolerated by neighbours for the first part of my time there at least.

Our guests included tourists delighted to soak up our “authentic” island atmosphere; drunk time-share salesmen; Vietnam veterans and immaculately dressed islanders whose elaborate braids snaked into impossible beehives.

And lots and lots of sailors – many different types: live on $3 a day rice and beans and a bottle of rum a day types; retirees with a difference; alternative families home schooling wild children; the rugged sailed the Horn types, as well as the wink wink types who came in and out of the island regularly and seemed to have, on occasions, outrageous amounts of money to blow.

As for the job, well, it included coercing this lot into paying their bar tabs and putting their shirts on, getting the lost and wayward home via lifts on rubber ducks, making the best frozen drinks this side of Miami and the meanest Bloody Maries for the hopelessly hungover punters, who would stagger in at 7am shaking and sweating. It was busy-busy and always fun, but after two years I was ready for something different.

I did apply for barwork locally, but received a response saying I didn’t have the relevant experience…