t doesn’t look like it’s getting any easier to be a journalist.
Consider it a throwback to a classier age. Back in my day, men used to wear three-piece suits and there wasn’t any of this denim nonsense. Everyone wore a hat, and you’d take it off when a lady walked in the elevator with you. Maybe you’d offer her a cigarette, ask if she wanted to join you for a scotch in your office and suggest she be your receptionist.
Wait. That’s Mad Men. Never mind.
Journalists are busy. Most of them don’t have time for social lives, never mind ironing. To quote Gawker on the issue, “God forbid a company do anything that might make the miserable days spent in a cubicle under the fluorescent lights a wee bit more humanizing.”
Halifax Media, this has not been your week.
About the author
Scaachi Koul was the Production Editor of the Summer 2012 issue of the Ryerson Review of Journalism.