Shock, horror. Management accountants have no clue about Enterprise 2.0

June 20th, 2011

Having recently attended the CIMA event on the value of Enterprise 2.0, I’ve come to a conclusion that I must’ve been living in my little, tech, Web 2.0 bubble for way too long, because nothing prepared me for the audience’s ignorance. I arrived ready to cover the ROI and use cases, I left humbled by a lack of understanding or distinction between social media and collaborative business tools.

I should be rejoicing – if there’s still so little understanding of what benefits E2.0 can bring into the enterprise then I’m certainly in the right business. Instead I am massively pissed off. Five years at uni doing sociology. Countless hours of qualitative and quantitative research, game theory, in-depth interviews etc. And yet, I eat up every new analyst and CIO report that tells me that the Enterprise 2.0 is here. Have I completely forgotten how data can be manipulated? Have I turned a blind eye to ‘a man on the street’?

And here I find myself torn. Between whom I’ve become – a marketer and whom I aspired to be – a sociologist. I’m suffering from a sudden attack of cognitive dissonance. The gap must be bridged. There’s work to be done. Enterprise 2.0 may not prove to be the Holy Grail for all, but if you knew someone had cancer, you’d tell them about the latest drug treatment, wouldn’t you? Let’s take to the streets… Ok, maybe I’m going a bit too far with this.

Luckily, in my job, I can evangelize Enterprise 2.0 till the cows come home. And eventually, they will come, even if it means that I have to drag their calves back to the ranch.

Cows will come home

Interns or sex workers – what’s a better business model?

May 26th, 2011

Last night, I had the rare privilege – it’s been only a month since Ali unshackled me from my desk – to judge a selection of UK-based start-ups at techpitch 4.5 organized by 2Pears.

Amongst the pitching noise, two start-ups stood out for me: MinuteBox and Intern Avenue.

I must’ve bumped into Josh Liu a million times at DrinkTank and other networking events, but I had no idea what a clever cookie he was. Josh’s MinuteBox allows anyone with any type of expertise to capitalize on it. If you have a question and are willing to pay for a few minutes of someone’s time who is the expert in the field, MinuteBox will allow you to connect to the very person in real time and charge you per minute. Think: Skype + video + stopwatch + Paypal.

I do absolutely love this idea. To start, micro-revenues for all those knitting grannies who can share the ins and outs of purl stitches with the affluent hobbyists. Or private medical advice on tap: ‘does this look like chicken pox, doc?’ Sky’s the limit. Our man in the government and Sean Parker’s new best friend, Glenn Shoosmith of BookingBug had another grand idea. Verticalize. One does wonder how would MinuteBox fare in the sex industry and whether this should be its sole focus.

MinuteBox takes advantage of LinkedIn’s API. You sign up with your LinkedIn ID and I’m guessing – as I await for my tags to load – it’s also where it sucks all the ‘expertise’ tags from. Yet, without a strong feedback and rating mechanism, the system still would be open to abuse. God only knows how many ‘social media’ (or is it ‘gamification’) experts there must be on LinkedIn.

At the moment, in order to sign up, you must specify your minute rate at more than 0.10p. I’m pretty bad at offering advice for money whilst in full employment; it just feels wrong. But I would be more than happy to oblige if my customers were able to donate to either of my two favourite charities, namely American Wild Horse Preservation Campaign and Surfrider Foundation. So here’s another thing for Josh to think about if he wants me on board.

Then, there’s Intern Avenue, ‘the world’s first Intern Directory’. Dupsy Abiola’s pitch demonstrated that no matter how awesome the idea is and the business model behind it, the presentation/or a presenter can kill literally it – the audience didn’t buy into Intern Avenue. I feel for Dupsy, the girl hasn’t slept since September and her presentation was thrown hastily together at the last minute.

None of this, however, means that she will not completely kill it in recruitment. On the contrary, the compliance issues surrounding the internship programmes are on the rise. Did you actually know you have to pay your interns or go to jail? No? Me neither. The market is ripe for Intern Avenue. Oh how I wish Dupsy just showed her web site crawling with the client names such as Rolls Royce, Google, Apple, IBM and GE. She achieved this with no PR exposure and no marketing; the pitch at TechPitch 4.5 was Dupsy’s first public appearance. For someone so determined and who passed on the opportunity to become the youngest partner at a law firm (twice), I foresee BIG THINGS.

So, boys and girls, if you have any spare cash lying around, both Josh and Dupsy are looking for investment.

My 4-hour body experiment

March 22nd, 2011

I’ve always been a massive fan of Tim Ferriss. Perhaps not enough to chuck my job at Huddle and live on a surf ranch,  but close. So when his latest book – 4-hour body – came out I devoured it religiously. The idea behind the ‘Slow-carb diet’ is not completely new to me. I’ve followed Arthur De Vany’s Evolutionary Fitness in the past, but Tim’s experiments made so much more entertaining. I can eat a whole pizza followed by ice cream on Saturday? Now you’re talking.

The problem with any diet is that if you have no greater incentive than losing weight you’re bound to fail. The only time I got to be ’slim’ was when three other girls in the office went to WeightWatchers together. Competition was fierce, I had to win.

That’s why, to get myself in shape this time, I’ve decided to add an incentive – mockery if I fail. It begins with my new blog on Posterous – Girl about Diet, where I’ll be recording my weight loss and muscle building attempts. Watch out for pics of Slow-carb diet meals and new supplement experiments.

You think I’m going a little bit overboard? Hey, you try to pop up on a surfboard with a spare tire around your mid-rift and lousy upper body strenght. It’s a means to an end. Hope to see you at Girl about Diet. Perhaps you’ll even decide to join me!

P.S. I have just finished eating the most orgasmic Tupperware lunch ever!

The art of unplugging

October 31st, 2010

Having woken up this morning (Sunday), reached for my iPhone and responded to a work email at 7.30am, I’ve come to, what I would consider, a quite reasonable conclusion that I suck at unplugging.

Well, I suck at a lot of things – surfing, skateboarding, climbing – but I would really like to improve. With the unplugging, instead of getting better at it, I get worse. If not checking my emails while on holiday causes me more stress than checking them, surely I should go with the least stressful option? Who said you have to keep your life and work separate anyway? No medical proof that those 3am pingdom alerts aren’t healthy.

My parents would call me a workoholic, but I believe it’s just the shape of things to come. And if I’m right, this means I’m already pretty awesome at it.

On the superiority of cowboy over English riding boots

October 31st, 2010

The main difference between the English and cowboy boots is that the English boot will make your feet look hideously unattractive. Like really ugly flippers. And horse riding is about looking good and don’t anyone tell you othewise.

The tall English riding boot, ends just below the knee. The height prevents a rider’s leg from being pinched by the leathers on the saddle – that must be the only good thing about it. They come in black, brown and even horrendous pink, like the ones a UK celebrity Katie ‘Jordan’ Price wore recently. The tall boots are usually used for showing or worn by young ‘I love my pony’ girls who’re after a couple extra inches. Short, ankle-high paddock boots are a bit of all-rounder. Pull-ons or Chelsea boots hail from the Victorian times, but that doesn’t mean they make you look any more distinguised. Lace-ups resemble a cross between a hiking and a builder’s boot. You get the picture.

Unlike the cowboy boots.

Cowboy boots
Cowboy boots

The cowboy or Western boot reaching about mid-calf or if you’re as short like me a bit higher, protects the rider’s calf from rubbing on the fender of the Western saddle. Cowboy boots are normally made from cowhide leather, but you can also encounter alligator, snake, lizard or elk boots. Whether you’re into the classics (a tall boot shaft, angled heel) or modern roper boots (a short boot shaft, low and suared off ‘roper; heel), you’ll be spoiled by a range of toe shapes, colours and designs. So much choice, so little time. Ropers also come in a lace-up variety.

I own three cowboy pairs: A, B an C. Heavy duty ‘A’ gets to drive cattle across the plains and enjoy gallops on the trail rides. ‘B’ is a bit of a show off, tall, brown and red adorned with little flowers, it hasn’t been out riding yet. Who would want scuff marks on such a beauty? I’ll keep it for a dance or something. Pair ‘C’ is a new addition, but I think it has a few barrel races in it. I treat my cowboy boots with the love and respect they deserve. I leave my English boots outside the door.

In the next ‘Western vs English riding’ episode: on how helmets give you awful, well, helmet hair.

Get obsessed and stay obsessed…after 30

July 18th, 2010

(written to the Surfing playlist on Spotify)

For someone who can’t swim, surfing is not an obvious sport of choice.  A spectacular noisedive from a Malibu wave carried me like a puppet to the beach where it beat my knee stupid against the rocks. Oh how I cried. Not from the pain, but because I didn’t catch it. That day I got my priorities right. Surfing, truly, eliminates bullshit.

Hence, I make no apologies for surfing every weekend. I am not sorry for falling off my new skateboard in a local park. Or having a BBQ at 1am in the morning and staying up till sunrise, in my Superman pyjamas.  I’d rather listen to the Jason Ellis show than Radio 4. And I don’t see any reason why I should ‘uplug’ on my holidays. Or pretend I like children who can’t hold a conversation.

Call it a mid-life crisis. I’m going surfing …

Eddie and Laird

My dream surf buddies

Surf & turf in a winter wonderland (I mean, UK)

January 31st, 2010

It was 4 degrees (both air and water) when I did my first ever winter surf last Saturday in The Witterings. Crazy? Ha! Suicidal? Nah. Frustrated? Yeah, I’m so crap at surfing I didn’t even manage to properly pop-up. And I ended up looking like a puffy eye dragon following the session (still not sure whether to blame saltwater or a very tight hood). Plus I left my credit card in a pub, two hours out of London.  In short, a frickin disaster, you’d say. Far from it. It was an awesome day.  Having tried many a sport, I can authoritatively say that surfing kicks ass. On par with a ridiculous fast gallop across the plains.

That brings me to this Saturday exploits.  Yet again, 4 degrees and icy wind when we took to the stables at Chobham Common. Lovely Julia found this gem of a riding school, which combines English dressage (wanky) with Western riding (awesome). We went out on a two-hour ride across the Common, accompanied by Buddy, Dude and Uno, lovely criollos.

Uno - an egotistical beast

Uno - an egotistical beast

If you thought surfing in winter was a stupid idea than riding in winter is fucking lunacy. I could not feel my fingers or my toes, leaving Uno to steer himself. Horses are not the most intelligent animals in the world and Uno is no exception. I have suffered a few bruises and wig-smacks when he tried to squeeze through some horse-size gaps, clearly forgetting he had a human on his back. In hindsight, maybe he’s not stupid at all, just an egotistical beast. I loved him to bits.

So how do they compare? On a scale of 1-10: mild hypothermia – surfing was 5, riding about 8. Aches and pains? Surfing – 1, riding – 8.  I definitely looked better after riding though.

If you feel like cooling your cockles join the London Surfing meet-up or my own Horselicious meet-up. I can promise you this: you will be freezing and you’ll love it.

How to pitch to Huddle – part 1

January 12th, 2010

I’m having a frickin’ ball. Huddle’s growing as fast as pizza dough. It’s a Polish idiom, perhaps not as good as ‘not my monkeys, not my circus’, but I still like it. Yay, hurray etc.

We’re assembling our super-duper marketing team.  Get in! If you think you can handle working with @nopstar and moi, drop us a line.

And, yes, finally, our PR account is up for grabs. Rejoice! You want it? Read on.

  1. Don’t bullshit. If you tell me you are best mates with Charles Arthur, I’m bound to ask you what grade he climbs.
  2. Tell me something I don’t know. Like what the capital of Kyrgyz is. Or what PR/social media trick I am missing.
  3. Get to know me. I do come up on a first page on ‘the’ Google, a bit below Zuzanna, the porn star.
  4. Help me to learn more about your team. LinkedIn and Twitter handles appreciated.
  5. Be realistic. I’m all about ROI. I will not fall for a campaign if I cannot see users at the end of the tunnel.

I’m having a few ‘over a coffee’ meetings with PR agencies next week, but if you think you have what it takes to work with Huddle, drop me a line zuzannaAThuddle.net.

Gary Vee to the rescue

December 18th, 2009

The following events took place yesterday:

  1. I have lost my aunt’s £5,000. I’m such a great niece, I am.
  2. Gary Vaynerchuk’s Crush It! arrived from Amazon
  3. So did a Mira showerhead minus a hose washer = water everywhere
  4. I finally finished drafting three marketing jobs descriptions for Huddle

Overall, it could’ve been worse. I could be pregnant. It would cost more than £5,000 in a first year, wouldn’t it? Or I could’ve slipped on #uksnow last night, fallen on my face and needed some expensive re-constructive surgery (post-Nude LondonTech Calendar, I’ve become exceedingly vain). No one died, no one got diagnosed with a terminal disease.

Yet, losing £5k of my aunt’s money that I invested in my former company’s shares (seven years of sweat and tears) left me a bit weepy. It’s not fair, I thought. It was supposed to be my Dodge fund (you do need a Dodge on a ranch).

But then, I started reading ‘Crush It’ on my way back home. By the time I got to Gary Vee’s baseball cards-$1,000 borrowed from dad-lost-repaid within four months story, I couldn’t care less if my former employer went bust (it didn’t, most likely won’t, but my monies, sorry, auntie’s monies lost). One way or the other, my auntie’s getting her money back.

According to Gary, I’m on my way. Success is in my DNA. I, too, know what it’s like to queue six hours to buy a loaf of bread. I follow his three rules: Love your family. Work superhard. Live your passion. I might have to work on the ‘Love your family’ bit after my mother’s reaction to the #LDNnudetech was, I quote: “Well, well, you don’t look too bad”.

I guess being passionate about building brands may seem pretty lame to some, but hey ho, rocks my boat. It’s on par with, let’s say, a fast trot. And hearing from some of you that you need ‘a Zuzanna’ or ‘a @huddlesuz’ for your marketing team surely means that the formula works.

Huddle and building our marketing team aside, I still have some time to spare in a day to make my auntie’s £5k back (7pm-2am since I don’t have any kids, Gary says). Perhaps, it’s just a kick in a butt I needed to take some proper care of Horselicious. Failing that, I’ll be setting up some lemonade stands across Camden.

If you missed the moral of the above story: read Gary’s book, it’s fucking awesome.

Gary and I comparing vaccination scars @DrinkTank Paris

Gary and I comparing vaccination scars @DrinkTank Paris

Horse mystery unveiled. Or is it?

November 10th, 2009

So who’s a horse’s closest relative then? According to the Horse Genome study, we are. Apparently, Equus caballus shares more DNA with Homo Sapiens than with other hoofed animals such as cows. It’s been also discovered that modern horses not all descended from an ancestral horse as we previously thought.

What the scientists still cannot tell is which gene make a quarter horse a quarter horse or an Andalucian an Andalucian. But good news is that the research will help in identifying, and let’s hope eradicating, 90 known hereditary diseases.

Reduced to nucleotides and chromosomes, is the mystery surrounding horses gone then? The Horse Genome folk assure us it isn’t:

Some horsemen may worry that once the horse genome is sequenced, all the mystery and magic will be gone from horse breeding and ownership — colorful characters around a racetrack replaced by colorless scientists with computer printouts and test tubes. Fear not. The study of the horse genome is more like studying the weather than inventing a sports car. Consider the following. All our research on the weather has shown we can experience a sunny day in Florida knowing that a hurricane will arrive in two days, but we cannot change the hurricane. Still the knowledge allows us to make choices; when the hurricane approaches we can abandon town or we can shore up our foundations.

Big thanks should go to Twilight, Bravo, Hrafnhetta, Bisquette and Ssirena who since the late 80s were helping the scientists with their research. Here’s Bravo, a mighty Thoroughbred.