and getting a handle on the other âgirlsâ.
âArenât we having wine?â I asked, typically.
I thought it would help to relax everyone, and it certainly did, although Libbi abstained as she was still breastfeeding her baby, Che. A couple of glasses later we were laughing and exchanging banter like four old friends. We were all obviously excited and feeling pretty good about ourselves. Even Lisa, who I feared would be a dragon lady, turned out to be warm, funny and engaging. Libbi was more serious than I expected, with a quick wit and the great sense of humour that had been prominent in her previous work. I liked her immediately. Zoe was also warm and funny and I thought together we would make an interesting team.
The mood sobered slightly when we were told it was time to meet Eddie McGuire. I had done some last-minute research on Eddiebecause, never having followed sporting programs or quiz shows, I had only a vague idea who he was. I recalled reading in the media pages that he had been appointed CEO of the network some time back, but gave it scant thought. My son Aaron, who plays AFL and knew all about Eddieâs passion for the Collingwood Football Club, gave me a quick background briefing, which was a lifesaver.
We were ushered to the inner sanctum of his office and were immediately put at ease. A man of considerable charm, Eddie is the sort who can mix it with anyone from Australiaâs richest and most powerful (including the Packers) to the most rabid footy fan. And even women, as I soon discovered. He enthused about his hopes for the program, and gave us some tips on how to avoid talking over the top of each other when debating issues on the panel, gleaned from his years in broadcasting.
For some reason I felt a need to strike a blow for those of us for whom sport is not the meaning of life. I suggested to Eddie that I didnât regard sport as news, that it irritated me to see sport constantly on the front page of the newspaper, and not on the back page where I felt it belonged. I was rather foolishly waving a red rag at a bull, but thatâs my way. He disagreed, but charmingly so. The others looked at me askance. Why was I baiting the boss? I suppose I just wanted to make it plain where I was coming from, and what he could expect of me on the show.
The morning of the third day, the screen test, we were given a makeover bright and early by the make-up artists and hairdressers. It was fun being transformed into glamour queens â little did I realise how I would eventually come to resent being imprisoned in the make-up chair for two hours every morning.
We talked through the topics we would debate before the cameras. I was disturbed that most of our discussion topics revolved around celebrities. Mia and Tara took the view that the broader issues facing women at home could best be tackled through this window. If some famous actress was having weight-loss difficulties or marital problemsor addiction issues or psychological problems, we could thrash it out by using the celebrity as a âhookâ.
I couldnât imagine how some of the vacuous American bimbos depicted in womenâs magazines were significant or relevant to the more grounded and intelligent audience I hoped would watch our show. But I also felt I was on thin ice, since I really had no idea who any of these celebrities were, or what they had done. How could I talk confidently about people I had never even heard of?
We were introduced to a good-looking young man who was to be our link to this celebrity gossip. Mia was very excited when she told us that Pete Timms was to have a regular spot on the show. Zoe and Lisa gasped with apparent delight, Libbi looked bemused, and I sat looking blank. It turned out he had been a finalist on the original season of
Big Brother
, had gone on to become a minor celebrity in the gossip columns, and was now working for
Womanâs Day
magazine. I tried desperately to look
âArenât we having wine?â I asked, typically.
I thought it would help to relax everyone, and it certainly did, although Libbi abstained as she was still breastfeeding her baby, Che. A couple of glasses later we were laughing and exchanging banter like four old friends. We were all obviously excited and feeling pretty good about ourselves. Even Lisa, who I feared would be a dragon lady, turned out to be warm, funny and engaging. Libbi was more serious than I expected, with a quick wit and the great sense of humour that had been prominent in her previous work. I liked her immediately. Zoe was also warm and funny and I thought together we would make an interesting team.
The mood sobered slightly when we were told it was time to meet Eddie McGuire. I had done some last-minute research on Eddiebecause, never having followed sporting programs or quiz shows, I had only a vague idea who he was. I recalled reading in the media pages that he had been appointed CEO of the network some time back, but gave it scant thought. My son Aaron, who plays AFL and knew all about Eddieâs passion for the Collingwood Football Club, gave me a quick background briefing, which was a lifesaver.
We were ushered to the inner sanctum of his office and were immediately put at ease. A man of considerable charm, Eddie is the sort who can mix it with anyone from Australiaâs richest and most powerful (including the Packers) to the most rabid footy fan. And even women, as I soon discovered. He enthused about his hopes for the program, and gave us some tips on how to avoid talking over the top of each other when debating issues on the panel, gleaned from his years in broadcasting.
For some reason I felt a need to strike a blow for those of us for whom sport is not the meaning of life. I suggested to Eddie that I didnât regard sport as news, that it irritated me to see sport constantly on the front page of the newspaper, and not on the back page where I felt it belonged. I was rather foolishly waving a red rag at a bull, but thatâs my way. He disagreed, but charmingly so. The others looked at me askance. Why was I baiting the boss? I suppose I just wanted to make it plain where I was coming from, and what he could expect of me on the show.
The morning of the third day, the screen test, we were given a makeover bright and early by the make-up artists and hairdressers. It was fun being transformed into glamour queens â little did I realise how I would eventually come to resent being imprisoned in the make-up chair for two hours every morning.
We talked through the topics we would debate before the cameras. I was disturbed that most of our discussion topics revolved around celebrities. Mia and Tara took the view that the broader issues facing women at home could best be tackled through this window. If some famous actress was having weight-loss difficulties or marital problemsor addiction issues or psychological problems, we could thrash it out by using the celebrity as a âhookâ.
I couldnât imagine how some of the vacuous American bimbos depicted in womenâs magazines were significant or relevant to the more grounded and intelligent audience I hoped would watch our show. But I also felt I was on thin ice, since I really had no idea who any of these celebrities were, or what they had done. How could I talk confidently about people I had never even heard of?
We were introduced to a good-looking young man who was to be our link to this celebrity gossip. Mia was very excited when she told us that Pete Timms was to have a regular spot on the show. Zoe and Lisa gasped with apparent delight, Libbi looked bemused, and I sat looking blank. It turned out he had been a finalist on the original season of
Big Brother
, had gone on to become a minor celebrity in the gossip columns, and was now working for
Womanâs Day
magazine. I tried desperately to look
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