Page 70 - Marie Claire Australia (January 2020)

REAL PEOPLE

T H E N U R S E

NA R E LLE , 51

On New Year’s Eve 1999/2000, I worked
at Westmead Children’s Hospital in
Sydney. I had to see 27 patients and we
had double the staff in case the Y2K bug
shut the computers down. I remember
how worried we were that our bank
accounts were going to be wiped out.
We had to carry walkie-talkies in case
the phone lines failed. Then the clock
ticked over, nothing happened and we all
looked at each other and laughed, “What a
“WE HAD TO bunch of bullshit!” I was annoyed because I
CARRY WALKIE had so many extra staff twiddling their thumbs.
TALKIES IN CASE As a nurse, I have gone through all the
THE PHONE evolving fashion looks, starting with the
LINES FAILED” little button-up pinstriped dresses and white
stockings. By 1999 I was in NSW scrubs
– so practical for lifting someone into bed!
They were nylon, drip-dry and didn’t need
starch. But on New Year’s Eve we got a
little festive with our uniforms.
Since then, life has dealt me a few curlies.
My husband left me in 2010 and I had to raise
my kids solo. He had gambling debts, an
alcohol problem and Post Traumatic Stress
Narelle sports Syndrome from his work in the police force.
her festive scrubs When he died, we were still married, but his
today; and a
’90s headshot girlfriend took me on a four-year Family Court
of the nurse battle for de facto money. Today I am a lot
(above right). poorer but a lot stronger. That’s just life.

T H E R AV E R
LI B BY, 41

1999 was a really momentous time for me personally,
so all the cultural buzz matched how I was feeling inside.
I was working as a nanny for a wealthy family, who of
course asked me to babysit on new millennium night.
Nannies were charging desperate parents $100 that
evening, which was massive in 1999. Not. A. Chance.
This was a once-in-a-thousand-year moment and
there was no way I was going to spend it anywhere PHOTOGRAPHY BY LIZ HAM. STYLED BY NADENE DUNCAN/DLM. PROPS: ERIN FAIRS. HAIR AND MAKE-UP BY DESIREE WISE/NETWORK AGENCY. TEXT BY CLEO GLYDE.
but on the dance floor.
I spent the night at a rave out at Homebush,
Sydney. Disappearing into a trance of German
electronic music was my escape; easy to do when
you have no real responsibilities. I wore my usual
club-kid uniform of flared jeans, Vans sneakers
and a Hello Kitty backpack, with my prized Nokia
5110 in tow. You had to push the button three
times ... but I could text at hyper speed.
My boyfriend and I danced all night and
everything seemed so optimistic. Two decades on,
I‘m now consumed with my life rather than myself.
My beautiful, intuitive daughter Isabella was born
with cerebral palsy and it’s a 24/7 job to support
Libby (above)
her. I want her to have a full, happy life. I thought revives her
my tenacious battler personality was leading me original club-kid
to (be an) entrepreneur, but now I know my uniform (far left).
path was leading me to advocating full-time.

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