The Third Paragraph

Full Disclosure

2010-10-19T13:29:00.002-04:00

People, if you feel you must write a book, let me give you some advice: Do it before you turn 57. Reason: Author's photo. And that's not all. After the pictures come back (and most were terrific), the photographer has their retouching department turn you into a fembot...so plastic you look otherworldly or at least Madison Avenue wordly where all the children are above average and no one past the age of 50 has a wrinkle on her face.

But I digress.

Now that the book is completed (save for the foreword but I'll leave that alone for now), I feel a strange sense of relief. I'm sorry, it's not strange at all. It's relief. Relief that I had the good sense to hire a nanny who not only whipped me when I was bad but also told me bedtime stories about how happy I would be when it was finished. Readers, if you don't know Susan Gedutis Lindsay, you are missing out on one of life's great experiences. A superb editor and marvelous human being. She made it happen. Yeah, yeah, I wrote the words but she punched up the copy, got rid of the nasty commentary (such a pity...it was all well-deserved) and voila! found the perfect designer, Megan Verdugo, who created the most adorable...I shouldn't be foaming at the mouth but the book really is terrific with illustrations by painter Susan Sugar. And available next month at Amazon. (Such shameless plugging...I guess I'm ready for my close-up now, Mr. DeMille.)

Which reminds me...if you're going to write a book, do it now, do it soon, do it before the grey hairs and the marionette lines settle in.

That's all.

Dressed for ready

2010-08-10T15:39:00.003-04:00

A client came in and when someone shares their narrative I have the compulsion to share part of mine. Nothing too personal but my great friend Linda is a big believer that we learn from stories.

So let me tell you the story that I told my young client:

Many many years ago, when dinosaurs roamed the earth and women went on "Queen for a Day" and vied for refrigerators by telling the tawdry and sad tales of their life, I was a young account executive at a blue chip public relations firm. Very wet behind the ears yet somehow possessed of this strange ability to look more sophisticated than the people I reported to.

One day I arrived at the office and shared the elevator ride with the company's CEO and serial philanderer. He gave me the once over and then barked "what's your name?" I told him and he grunted something. I was temporarily working on the 15th floor at the time which was where the big boys and girls sat -- all the executive vice presidents, senior vice presidents, vice presidents -- everyone in shouting distance from the CEO so he could observe their comings and goings (oh and did I mention that he had a permanent tan that was so dark it could only come from a can?)

A few hours passed and my phone rang. The woman I reported to said "Ellen, what are you doing this afternoon?" Thinking she wanted an update, I started to tell her all the important work I was doing when she cut me off and in her crisp British accent said, "Forget that. You're going with me and the CEO to (Fortune 100 company)."

My response was logical: "But I don't have my clothes."

Her retort was equally logical (by her bizarro logic): "Don't worry. You can buy a toothbrush at the airport."

And away we went. To pitch a million dollar account for the company. Me...brand new to the company. So new I still hadn't figured out how to pad an expense account. So, what's my point? I was ready. Not really ready but dressed for ready. The CEO could envision me as part of his team and after a little research, felt that I had the confidence to handle myself in a high-stakes situation.

I am convinced that most of the opportunities I've had in my career have had to do with two things: luck and a polished presentation. Okay, maybe three things: luck, smarts and a polished presentation but since we can't control luck, we really have to make sure that we're on our game at all times. Forget casual -- always dress like you're about to jump on a plane and head to the boardroom and blow them away with your exuberance, intelligence, and yeah, superior taste in clothes.

She's Baaaaaaaaaaack

2010-08-03T14:06:00.004-04:00

God it feels good to be back blogging. Did you miss me? Nah, only joking. I'm not that needy. Actually, I stopped blogging so I could write "The Essentials of Fabulous: A Primer", a must-read book for anyone who wants to standout and be memorable in a very virtual world. Publishing date: To be announced and announce it I shall.

A year later, I can say with full confidence: Nothing's changed. Everyone is still staring at the little screen in their hands. We're still slurring our names everytime we leave a message. We're still blathering when we leave a voicemail message. Newsflash: No one listens to the very end of any message. We look at the name and the number and when we reach you, we force you to repeat everything you've said.

Leadership is M.I.A. Either the bosses are terrified of their employees or they don't have the people skills that are critically important to running a successful company. Over and over, people tell me hair-raising stories about bosses who berate and criticize but can't muster up a compliment now and then. Poo on those bosses.

Unemployment is sky high yet there are still jobs to be had but only for the very well-connected or people who have access to personal stationery and who are unafraid of doing the drudge work of writing letters and asking for a meeting.

A while back, a potential client came in for a complimentary half hour. The guy told me his story -- lots of resumes sent out and no responses -- and I listened and took note of his demeanor and presentation skills. Let me reiterate: it was a complimentary half hour or maybe it was a full hour (I'm admittedly sloppy about the time especially if the story is somewhat interesting). Anyway, here's the point: The time we spent together was FREE yet the man never sent me a thank you note to acknowledge the gift of my time.

There it was -- the answer to the man's poignant question "how come I'm not getting hired?" He wasn't doing the maximum which is what it takes to make it today.

Then there was a client who kept missing appointments but when she did show up, she complained that business was off. Lightbulb! Maybe her clients got sick and tired of waiting for her and decided to work with someone who respected their time. I wish I could say I helped her but I couldn't. She didn't want to change her m.o. We parted ways and I wish her well.

That's why I felt I needed to write "The Essentials of Fabulous: A Primer" (I'm just practicing for when I do a tv spot...you've got to repeat the title of the book at least three times). It's a how-to for anyone who doesn't get it (Chapter Eight), who doesn't quite grasp the importance of a polished presentation. It matters. More than ever.

Tone Deaf

2009-12-17T13:21:00.003-05:00

It will go down in our family's text messaging history. When a simple "O.K." on a missive required hunkering down with The Lord High Executioner over the real meaning behind the scion's response.

Was there something deep and meaningful in A.'s decision this week to respond to an impassioned email with capital letters? Just a few weeks ago, A. had written "o.k." as the solo response. Now he'd written "O.K." Hmmm. Was lower case a stony shrug and upper case a celebratory high five?

It wasn't the first time that a single word response has forced me to consider the writer's feelings behind the message. And you know what, I hate it. I hate cryptic responses because it opens the door to confusion. I have a colleague who writes "Sure" a lot and I still stare at that word trying to figure out the tone -- is she writing with a sneer or a smile?

If you're going to write emails, I suggest you first look in the mirror and see how terrific and approachable you look when you smile. Now when you're in that upbeat frame of mind, start writing. My bet is that your likeability rating is going to go up (and my therapy bills are going to go down).

Tuesday Night at the Tribeca Rooftop

2009-05-15T13:16:00.002-04:00

It's almost like a psychological epidemic: The Great Recession is the greatest buzzkill of our generation. We're supposed to lay low, stop eating foie gras and absolutely, positively do not attend charity events that have the word gala in the invitation. So the savvy women of the Business Council for Peace did what all savvy women out to do: They listened to themselves. And threw a humdinger of a fundraiser. Because nothing, not even the Great Recession is going to stop the fine work they're doing on behalf of the entrepreneurial women of Afghanistan and Rwanda.

If you haven't been to the Tribeca Rooftop in New York City, you should beg, borrow or steal an invitation because it's utterly fabulous. The view from the rooftop is heart-stopping and it gave the party the right kind of off-hand elegance that defined the night. Rather than the ho-hum tables of eight and ten, Bpeace went with a grazing format so that you could eat the most delicious hors d'oeuvres all night long. Everything clicked especially the DJ Rolando who kept making deft segues from rock to punk to Motown. The evening's highlight: Five especially curvaceous dancers from Bollywood Funk NYC funking it up to "Jai Ho!" with the crowd mobbing the dance floor to reenact that final (mood-elevating) scene from this year's Oscar winner "Slumdog Millionaire." Yes indeedy, suffering was forced to go on a temporary hiatus.

Despite a torpedoed economy, Bpeace's volunteers outdid themselves and raised nearly $95,000 which will continue the new business development programs that have launched
at least 40 different businesses since the group formed in 2002.

Wine (or lack of)

2009-04-28T12:21:00.003-04:00

I should probably blame the wine.

I didn't have any.

That's a problem these days especially when you're elbow-to-elbow with the rude and clueless. No one should endure insufferable behavior without some sort of anesthetic.

Imagine this: You're at a black tie affair on a Saturday night. The hosts have spent oodles of money to entertain you with food and music, charming decor and plenty of vino. After the hors d'oeuvres you head to your table to take your seat and then hopefully, if you're a very good guest, you're on the dance floor to whirl and twirl and shimmy and shake. In-between dances, you eat and circulate, introducing yourself to strangers, smiling warmly at everyone in the room for you're all here to celebrate a happy occasion. That's what great guests do: They hold up their part of the bargain they've made to the host and hostess. They will be as gracious and hospitable as the hosts to make the evening memorable.

Nice thought. Too bad it went like this:

After the hors d'oeuvre hour, the guests head to their table and take a seat. Blackberries and Iphones are removed from the handbags and pockets and placed to the left or the right of the dinner plate. They immediate alight, announcing text messages and incoming calls. The guests answer the phones, heads bowed, feverish concentration on their furrowed brows. Damn, it's loud, they whisper to one another, a bit peeved by the noise. The choice is stark: Talk and dance and engage in some chitchat with your table mates or communicate virtually with someone across town who's checking in to see how the party is going.

Virtual wins.

No wonder we're miserable.

Actually, no wonder they're miserable.

Don't Just Sit There....

2009-04-22T14:53:00.006-04:00

Do Something!

That's my rallying cry for today.

And I don't mean "cry" as in whine, baby. I mean my call to arms.

Listen to this: Reporter James Surowiecki wrote a piece in last week's New Yorker magazine called "Hanging Tough." In the late nineteen-twenties, two companies -- Kellogg and Post -- dominated the relatively new market for ready-to-eat cereal. When the Depression hit, Post did what a lot of companies are doing today -- reined in expenses and cut back on advertising. Kellogg did the opposite: Increased advertising, new products, aggressive marketing. By 1933, even as the economy went on life-support, Kellogg's profits increased by nearly thirty percent and it had become the industry's dominant force. As it is today.

Morale of story: Every business has two options right now -- take a "wait and see" (Honey Bunches of Oats) or "full throttle" (Frosted Flakes). Simple as that.

Right now I am seeing lots of opportunities to get in front of influential decision-makers. The reason: Nobody knows anything. We're all trying to figure it out on a day by day basis and so when an expert comes a-calling with a clear and lucid message, we're all ears. And when everyone is hunkering down in their batcave, there's something compelling about meeting with someone who's optimistic. Resourceful. And nice (don't forget to send a thank you note.)

Uncertain times are scary yes but they can also create opportunities. Take a risk. Upgrade your website. Schedule some lunches and pick up the check. Polish your narrative so you come across as focused, energized and supremely competent. Do something big, grand, exciting and different.

Think Froot Loops (Kellogg). Not Pebbles (Post).

LAUNCH Tackles Recession Fatigue on News12

2009-04-20T17:44:00.001-04:00

What Shoes?

2009-03-26T15:18:00.007-04:00

Weather report: Rain, in mid 40s. What's on the calendar? Meetings and ah yes, lunch with a former colleague and friend. What shoes?

I do not suppose that any normal person would think about their shoes upon arising but really you should. My window to the soul is the sole (and the heels). While I'm hopeless at picking stocks (see Qualcomm), I know everything from the scuff marks, the down at the heel heels, the round or squareness of the toe box.

I suppose I should explain:

Many years ago I was invited to a rather swank and private party at Bergdorf Goodman. When I got up that morning, I saw three inches of snow had fallen overnight. Very bad. Everything had to change -- the pants, the coat, the hat and most importantly the shoes.

While I would have loved to throw caution to the winds and wear the perfect ballerina heel, I knew I couldn't. Big, heavy, leather boots c'est moi. What a pity.

I took the train to New York and then the subway to 53rd and Fifth. As I crossed 57th Street I spotted two stunning creatures alighting from a black Lincoln Town Car. Wearing the most impossibly high and strappy sandals and slingback pumps, they entered BG's side entrance and the three of us shared the elevator to the third floor.

You don't need to rub it in, I know: Bring the gorgeous ballerinas and change in the ladies room.

I still think about that morning tea and how it doesn't matter how much therapy you've had, how many clients you've helped, how many campaigns you've launched. Sometimes all that really matters is wearing the right shoe, nor'easter be damned.

Showing Up

2009-03-24T15:53:00.004-04:00

It's only fair to tell you that I'm a dropout. At the beginning of my second year in the local religious school, I was escorted out of the building and asked not to return. My crime: Bringing pretzels into the classroom that were not marked "kosher."

Whatever. I grabbed my notebook and unfinished homework and never looked back.

That's probably the last time I said "whatever" and meant it. These days I'm rabid about showing up.

Good example: I just received a call from a potential client. He'd like to discuss working together. Could we meet this afternoon?

Of course we can. But only because I'm dressed for ready.

I bet you can think of at least three occasions when you passed up an opportunity to have lunch, take a meeting, initate a conversation, introduce yourself because you showed up for the day...but barely. You know what I'm talking about -- sloppy pants, ill-fitting jacket, unwashed hair, shoes that need a good polishing -- and funnily enough you probably knew as you were getting dressed that you were shaping the trajectory of your day.

Here's another way to look at it: Can you afford to let an opportunity go unmarked? Do you look at every new relationship as an opportunity to tell your story, widen your network and move in new circles? Are you moving through your life with purpose?

I know it would save time to skip the morning ritual of laying out the clothes, the accessories, even the silly barrette matchup. And there are times when I deride myself for caring so much about, well, practically everything.

On the other hand, I'd rather care about a lot of things than care about nothing.

Corduroy at a Funeral?

2009-03-16T11:36:00.011-04:00

Mon Dieu! The Lord High Executioner slipped on his admittedly comfortable corduroy pants as we dressed for a funeral on Long Island.

"Corduroy at a funeral?" I asked. "Surely you jest."

"Is there a rule for it in your Book?" I thought about it for just a long minute. "Of course there's a rule for it in my Book."

I do have a lot of rules. I'm deeply and passionately in love with proper behavior. And frankly no one should wear corduroy to a funeral. Or shorts to the theater.

I still marvel at the chutzpah of a relative showing up at my grandmother's funeral in elasticized waist pants with a sweater that needed a good de-pilling. What was she thinking? This is a woman who sports a three carat emerald ring so she certainly could have worn something a bit more soigne.
But no...it was her whatever moment.

When you attend a funeral your clothing sends a message about how you respect and share the grief. You don't have to don "widow's weeds" but you certainly need to reflect the seriousness and gravity of the situation. Sport jackets, ties, pressed pants and good shoes for men and skirts or dresses for women. Can there be any more formal occasion than celebrating someone's life?

I looked around at Sunday and saw people in track suits, jeans and yes, corduroy. (You can't win every battle.)

Don't Bite

2009-02-23T12:49:00.003-05:00

One of those robotic types called this morning to discuss the extra charges that were added to my latest trip. Luggage: $15 per flight. Failure to book within 21 days: $50. One day we're going to look back and marvel at the way companies in the heat of the recession chose to bite rather than kiss the hand that feeds them.

I saw it yesterday, too when I decided last minute to add more turkey to the order and the deli counter guy had a postal because he had to re-open the envelope and stuff in a few more slices. (Question: Is it oxymoronic for a deli counter guy to go postal or just plain moronic?) Shouldn't I be "yes ma'am"ed since I'm in the store ("Stores Are Begging Consumers to Shop") and not sitting home creating spreadsheets of my husband's expenditures?

Speaking of spreadsheets...ladies take note: Now that business has fallen off the cliff our husbands still deserve a chance to demonstrate their prowess with Excel so be prepared to receive attached documents outlining your daily expenditures. It's one thing to justify six ounces of the most sumptuous white tea from one of NYC's grandest tea salons at the time of purchase (excellent for boosting the metabolism) and another thing to justify the purchase while trying to wiggle into fitted black skirt (clearly, metabolism is still not up to speed).

Channeling Howard Beale

2009-02-18T12:00:00.008-05:00

You would think the management of the ultra-haute gym (for New Jersey, anyway) I frequent would put the absolutely most fabulous people at the front desk. And the owner does...a delightful and people-pleasing Marco who does a superb job. But when I arrived this morning and went through the checklist ("is MSNBC/Morning Joe on a monitor?") one of the gym's physical trainers was standing alongside Marco demonstrating attitude. Excuse me, ATTITUDE. Affecting a look that was a combination of rolled eyes and contempt, the clod nearly got away with it except...I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE IT ANYMORE ("Network").

Have you seen that 1976 classic movie? A deranged network anchor by the name of Howard Beale starts to rant and rave about the media, finally throwing open the window and shouting, well, see above. He was referring to the media's inanity. I am referring to the insolent and obnoxious behavior that somehow got a pass way back a few months ago (pre-Recession) but suddenly doesn't feel right. Today's Times has a story about how the recession has forced sales people to be nice to customers. Quelle horror! On Madison Avenue, no less. Who's going to shop now that humiliation and indifference are verboten? Very troubling.

I started to walk into the gym but stopped in my tracks. I went back to the desk, to the arrogant young man and asked him "What's with you?" Again, the vacant stare. "I don't enjoy starting my day like this. Kindly do not Dead Fish me again." I swear I could hear applause coming from the ladies' locker room.

You would think that the management of this ultra-haute gym (awright, maybe not ultra haute) would talk to his employees about customer service especially in a time of cholera. Gyms are wonderful places but they're not high on a list of consumerables like milk and bread. And with the weather getting warmer, you can get a terrific workout in the park or on a bike. For a lot less money than a gym membership.

I think I'm being way too hopeful when I write "you would think." Clearly no one at this gym, ultra haute or not, is thinking. And that's too bad because once you open the window and starting ranting, it's awfully hard to stop.

Image In A Time Of Cholera

2009-02-05T15:10:00.006-05:00

Have you heard the theory "emotional contagion?" We can only be as happy as the people who live or work near us. Evidently, it doesn't matter if your best friend is Pollyana but she lives 1000 miles away...if your next-door neighbor is mood-disordered and perpetually angry, you're more likely to catch his mood.

Scary.

Luckily for me, the guy who sits in the next office is a cockeyed optimist. And no matter the news cycle, the guy sticks to his work, plans his vacations, takes his wife out to dinner and sports a startling array of smart-looking sweaters that he wears over crisp oxford shirts. Even his shoes are shined to perfection...wonderful.

Over a business lunch a colleague confided that she had caught herself complaining about work and the dearth of opportunities. She was shaken by her dispirited commentary. "What was going on?" she wondered. I mentioned "emotional contagion" and she brightened with relief. "You're right," she said, "I've been talking to too many people. I've got to get back to my work."

I urge my clients to vent and wail but not in public and certainly not in front of anyone with influence. No matter what is going on in your life or in your business, it's important to protect your image. The public's perception of you and your company has been achieved by a series of calculations. You cannot be cavalier about those calculations -- they served you well and will continue to serve you well in the future. But right now the air we're breathing is toxic, filled with anxious and dyspeptic ruminations.

I realize it's hard to escape the Cassandras (especially now) but we can out-smart them. Limit your phone calls or visits. Don't feel obliged to share their doomsday scenarios. And shine your shoes. I'm convinced it's one of those acts that will ward off the plague.

Good News/Bad News

2009-01-30T14:48:00.008-05:00

Only The Lord could come home with this marvelous opening line: People aren't dying anymore.

The Lord had lunch the other day with a business colleague whose brother is in the funeral business. Turns out the brother's business is down. "Down?" I said, somewhat incredulously since I read the obituary page everyday and frankly, that page is still going strong.

"Well, maybe not down, " said The Lord. "But people are definitely not having big funerals. It's all cremation."

So we're dying but we're not being laid to rest in velvet-lined coffins. Mon Dieu! Even the little things like an elegant send-off is being impacted by the recession.

So here's an opportunity: Despite the deluge of bad news, look for a way to create a little elegance in your life. When everyone is sending email thank you notes, break out the box of blind-embossed note cards and send it by mail. When meeting an old friend for lunch, grab the check. Wear a skirt and heels even if you're working from home. Let people know you're thinking of them.

And when everyone is going to the hereafter in a cardboard box, put away a little sum each week to ensure you travel in something deluxe. Or leave your credit card number with a friend -- she'll get the miles!

Sharp Elbows

2009-01-27T14:12:00.009-05:00

On my way to the airport after a perfect weekend in Colorado, I mused aloud about my parenting philosophy. "All I wanted to do was raise children you could sit next to on an airplane," I said. "Write that down," said Kristina.

But it's true.

Think about the last trip you took. Generally I sit in the aisle seat which significantly decreases the annoyance factor but this time there were no seats available so I was assigned the window on the way to Colorado and the middle on the flight back home to New Jersey. On both trips I encountered the dreaded stereotypes: The difficult, impossible to please (aka "Mother") lady who resents getting up to let you use the rest room and the zoned out 23-year-old who commandeers both armrests.

Reader, let me assure you that in both instances I emerged victorious but that story is for another day. This story is about Sharp Elbows.

As good as I am as a mother, I must admit to a significant liability: I did not raise children with Sharp Elbows. In fact, my elbows (while very soft due to a daily application of both Johnson's Baby Oil and shea butter) are overly consumed with etiquette. More Jacqueline Onassis than Hillary Clinton. And while the Lord Executioner is a lovely man, he too is a slouch in the "S.E." department thus depriving our sons of a suitable role model when it comes to edging out the competition and having a take-no-prisoners-attitude to life.

Pity them. In the brand new world, zoned out 23-year-olds who can commandeer both armrests serenely oblivious to disapproving body language will do just fine. Better than fine. And to think otherwise is wishful thinking.

To acquire sharp elbows one must do the following:

#1 Do not get overly-entangled with someone else's feelings.

#2 Start off the day with a head full of steam rather than a head of deflated air.

#3 It's all about you...if you want to succeed.

#4 Even if you think it's obnoxious, keep calling and emailing until you get to see the person that can open a door and make your career.

#5 Great manners are critically important to your presentation package but don't underestimate the power of steely and wily strategic thinking.

#6 Drop important names to establish your street cred. Of course some people may interpret that as desperate and contemptible but who cares?

#7 Ever hear the phrase "wait in line?" Neither did woulda/shoulda senator Caroline Kennedy.

#8 Do not be afraid. Despite the ubiquitousness of the cloddish, most people err on the side of shy and reserved rather than fearless and intrepid. Go for it! It's amazing what a little assertiveness can do you.

And a Viscount Shall Lead Her

2009-01-07T13:56:00.011-05:00

New Year's Day. The Lord and I met the Viscounts for Vietnamese food in New York's Chinatown. We were tackling the hors d'oeurves when Viscount A. said something along the lines of "This is a great deal."

I laid down my chopsticks and sighed. "What's wrong?" asked A., always more perceptive about changes in mood than the rest of the gang.

"This is gonna be a very long recession if every time we eat out or buy something we feel we need to congratulate ourselves for doing it on the cheap," I said.

Viscount A. shook his head in pity. "I said 'this is great fish.'"

We all laughed, perhaps a little too hard. We're starved for fun, that's for sure.

For the last few weeks I've been trying to find the fun. I switched coffee flavors at Dunkin' Donuts. I called friends who wallow in the ridiculous. I reread "Amy's Answering Machine" which is a must for anyone whose mother thinks you've been abducted if you are not at home on a snowy night. I practically did a raindance. And finally the clouds parted when I saw how foolish it would be to succumb to the 24/7 grim news cycle -- foolish and dangerous.

In these fragile months ahead, don't start a losing streak by disappearing, second-guessing or pulling the plug on new plans or ideas for 2009. If the loop inside your head is a cacophony of pessimism and negativity, delete the tape. Keep building bridges to the people that are generous and smart and, when you need it, ask them for some brain power. And laugh even if it's at your own expense (especially if it's at your own expense).

Traffic Court

2008-12-17T15:30:00.004-05:00

According to the ticket for a crime (not stopping at a stop sign) I swear I didn't commit, I had to be at Hackensack's Town Hall at 9:00 this morning yet here I was putting on the Dries shirt from last year with the grey wide-legged pants at 8:45 in a panic because what do you wear...to traffic court?

Maybe it's my paltry inner life or could it be my paltry life but these 'events' weigh heavily upon me especially when I need to make the sartorial decisions that either grease my trip or trip me up. "I'm going in front of a Judge for chrissakes," I shouted to The Lord as I unbuttoned the shirt and tried on the white Henley, way too sheer to be worn solo but perhaps with a cashmere Henley over it? No, no, no...too casual. I've watched enough shows to know that this -- court -- is the epicenter of glowering individuals just ready to throw the book at you. I knew the message I needed to craft was of a fine, upstanding, law-abiding citizen (who frankly had been caught in a dragnet that was meant to line the coffers of Hackensack's crumbling economy). Besides the shame of getting pulled over for absolutely nothing (okay, maybe I didn't do a full stop but I definitely tapped the brake), I now had to deal with the annoying two points on the license which in the scheme of things doesn't really mean too much but still. Last time I had four points I drove like an old grandma in a Ford Valiant, worrying every time I saw a police car behind me. I'm 55 now...there are few pleasures left and certainly going over the speed limit on the turnpike is a decided pleasure.

Fine, the matching v-neck sweater with two strands of vintage cherry amber. Nobody would know they're worth anything so I won't look conspicuous. Maybe just a watch, my tiny gold watch, probably the nicest gift the Lord ever gave me. I'm done. Just as I walked out of the bedroom I took another peek and noticed I wasn't wearing earrings. Would big, swinging hoops be too insouciant? Might the Judge judge me as someone who's a bit wild and therefore prone to not only going through stop signs but also cutting through a private parking lot to avoid the terrified driver who can't jump in front of traffic at the stop sign? (That was eons ago but I suffered those four points for three long years.)

I need a little post of an earring. Nothing too eye-catching but something fine since this is a court of law. You would think all this would come naturally since I've relentlessly stood up for the skirt rule at funerals but no, now it's almost 9:15 and I'm still unsure as to the size of the earring since there's the teensy diamond pave ball earrings that are so tiny they could only be considered ironic or the slightly larger pave balls that are far more soigne but perhaps riskier? I'm sure I'm channeling previous anxieties from long ago epochs when paterfamilias and mamafamilias handed down their daily pronouncements but seriously...I've got to get to court.

Look Up, Not Down

2008-12-09T10:27:00.012-05:00

Anyone know of a nice cave for rent? I have considered other possibilities but I think a cozy bunker might be the ticket for winter '09. Really, who wants to stick around for the 'shock and awe' clips of our economy under attack. Isn't it obvious how the race to the White House morphed so seamlessly into the Great Depression 2.0 so as not to impact the ratings?

During the heat of the campaign when things started looking grim, Sen. Obama urged his followers to tune out the cable stations and the blogs and just relax. May I suggest we all do the same? Heavens, if you could go in and tinker, please do but if you're just like me, there's very little you can do except:

Call your favorite recent graduate who is still trying to catch some wind in his sails. Don't deny the reality of the job market but let him know you're available for support when he's feeling overwhelmed.

Know someone who's been downsized? She could use your brain power. Cut adrift from the corporation is akin to getting tossed out of the family manse. Let her know she can find an intelligent listener when she needs it.

Make yourself indispensable. Treat everyday like it's the first day of school when making that first impression was critically important to the rest of the semester.

Attitude trumps Aptitude. Fine, you're a brilliant marketer but you're also moody and difficult to work with. That's not the reputation you can bank on.

Return phone calls, emails, text messages -- even smoke signals -- within 24 hours. In the old days, B.R. (before recession), those details were annoying but not job-threatening. Now, everyone's got to play championship ball.

Be anything but generic. From your cover letters to your voicemail messages to the way you sign off on your emails, craft an image of someone who values competence and purpose with a big dollop of energy and flair.

Look up, not down. If you were climbing a mountain you'd focus on the summit, not the abyss.

And What Are You Wearing?

2008-12-08T14:05:00.008-05:00

Are you familiar with Patricia Marx? She's one of the cleverest of writers at the New Yorker and in last week's Christmas Shopping article she enchanted me with the line, " What are you wearing to the recession?" In all the Great Depression stories handed down by my beloved grandmother Tillie, I do not recall a single anecdote (alas) relating to her attire.

When the going gets tough, the tough must demonstrate even greater fortitude and resilience in their sartorial decisions. And that is why I stood in front of the closet this morning and carefully weighed the choices.

Comfort is out. Anything that suggests complacency is verboten.

Color must be muted. Camouflage anxiety by sticking to neutrals rather than the flashier jewel tones.

With the economy in flames, go for pieces that are flame retardant like simple skirts, perfectly-tailored pants, starched white shirts, sensible shoes (women) and crisp shirts, pressed pants, jackets and yes, ties (men).

Don't you love a woman/man in uniform? Whether it's work or play, opt for clothes that bespeak an appreciation for discipline and focus.

R.I.P.the accoutrements of entitlement (drainpipe jeans, high heeled boots, stratospherically expensive handbags, unironed shirts).

Everything old looks new again. (Hint: Shop the closet)

Go counterintuitive. No matter how grim the news, start out each day looking like a zillion. Your stock is still soaring no matter what.

Give Truth Some Sheen

2008-12-03T10:41:00.011-05:00

I am partial to employing the Socratic Method whenever a big important question lands on my radar screen so today I wish to thrash out the important difference between bulls**t and spin.

Last week a phone call with a colleague who said "business is booming" gave me pause. No one I know except maybe Mark M. who runs a second-rate tombstone company in Brooklyn is having a banner year yet this colleague never wavers. Not only is his business great but his personal life is pretty extraordinary too. Unlike the rest of us who slog away at long-term marriages, this remarkable man has never been more in love with his spouse.

From a marketing standpoint, my colleague has staked a very muscular position. He's painting a vivid picture of someone unbowed and undaunted by a tanking economy which might lead me to think that he's not only awfully good at what he does but lucky too. So, he's spinning. On the other hand, since he lives in another part of the country and I see him infrequently, he could also be full of s**t. Is there a difference?

I think there is.

I'm a huge fan of spin. Your business is up, your business is down...who cares except you? Masters of spin understand the importance of literary license to create an aura of dogged determination and accomplishment. Can you imagine getting through the day if everyone told the truth?

Spin is a way to shape your personal narrative, to make it clear that no matter how tough it is you're up to the fight. Armed with some spicy spin you will rarely duck from conversation since now you're simply embellishing the truth, giving it a nice lovely sheen. Spin is therapeutic, too since the more you say it, the more you believe it and that's wonderful. Nothing makes me heart go faster than hearing my own spin and reigniting the passion for what I do. That's the cool thing about self-generated enthusiasm -- it's exponential.

As for bulls**t, it serves little purpose except sabotage. It's the surest and quickest way to sever a relationship, connection or opportunity. And that's the one thing we never want to do, do we?

Socks to the Knee!

2008-12-02T12:39:00.010-05:00

Hmmm. For the last few weeks, I've been weighing whether to focus on the most logical or the most frivolous way to approach the economic downturn. While The Lord would advocate for logic, my penchant is to leave that to the more sober-minded and look for opportunities to demonstrate a more creative mindset.

This is absolutely not the right time to lay low. Yes, I know, that does seem to be the most natural stance to take but it's counterproductive. Do not hide and do not keep your mouth shut. This is the time to come out swinging! Those who can demonstrate a confident, easy and accessible manner will have the edge when the going gets less bumpy.

Out-charm your competition with an engaging manner that puts people at ease. Smile first, initiate a hello, start a conversation with a stranger, hold the door, stand when you shake hands, offer compliments, write handwritten thank you notes, return your phone calls, close the loop on emails, offer referrals, recommendations and research and treat people as if you're incredibly happy to see them.

Knife-blade sharp pant creases, polished shoes, manicured nails, up-to-date eyeglasses, freshly-laundered shirts, socks to the knees (men), textured socks under pants (women), off-beat accessories like a beret paint a picture of someone with disciplined panache.

Wit, humor, whimsy can't be underestimated especially now when the stakes are high. President-Elect Obama is a study of someone who relishes the chance to be witty while still keeping his hand on the rudder. The importance of being (too) earnest is vastly over-rated.

Nurture your contacts so they're ready if you need them. It's so much easier to cross a bridge than build one. Use the holiday as a reason to call or send a card but for godssakes don't send a Christmas letter. (Have some mercy.)

Without Options....Pfffffffffft.

2008-11-25T16:20:00.006-05:00

The authoritative voices drone on, painting images that haunt me in my dreams as news of the financial crisis eclipse even Madonna's civilized divorce. While rabidly following the simultaneous meltdowns, I remain warily optimistic that even under the worst of circumstances people will go to dinner, buy tickets to the theater, get their hair cut and carry on with aplomb.

The secret to managing the unmanageable is to review and rereview one's options. Without options, all is dire. Pffffffffffffft.

Option #1: You will not hide but instead, treat each day as an opportunity to do it better.

Option #2: No matter how grim the news, exercise, eat a healthy breakfast, pull out the sharpest clothes and wear them with flair.

Option #3: I really do believe that the most powerful form of advertising is to be exceptional therefore no matter what you do, do it with focus and passion.

Option #4: Energy and imagination are particularly seductive qualities so hone these skills by reading, thinking and surrounding yourself with the brainiest and most generous of colleagues.

Option #5: You are not alone and can reach out to colleagues, advisors, mentors as well as talented and gifted friends for support and counsel.

Option #6: No matter the obstacles, hold to your vision and purpose of where you want to go. Dogged persistence is rewarded (ask John Updike).

Option #7: The only way to get out of a slump is to hit some balls, make some phone calls, schedule some lunches.

Option #8: Perception trumps reality so you are always in the midst of projects, opportunities and deals. Nothing's scarier than someone rumbling around on four flat tires.

Child's' Play

2008-11-18T13:50:00.006-05:00

Full disclosure: I swoon for competence and get batty when incompetence and imperviousness go hand-in-hand.

This morning I showed up at the car dealership for a valve change. An email predicting dire consequences if I ignored the value replacement arrived in my mailbox two weeks ago. Dutifully, I scheduled an appointment. The customer service representative went to get the paperwork and oh no, sorry Mrs. S., your car is not the car that has the recall.

He smiled gamely. I sat there. He showed me the paperwork to confirm the recall didn't pertain to my car. I waited. With no peace offering in sight (An apology? A complimentary car wash?), I left.

Whenever a mistake has been made, treat it as an opportunity to showcase your inimitable sense of professionalism and style. I've seen some colossal mistakes in my time but only the ones handled with deft and graciousness ended well. I still regret missing the meeting when the incorrigible Mary W. suggested a deceased celebutante as a spokesperson for a line of hair care products. Rather than own the mistake, she compounded it by blaming the most junior staffer on her team.

It takes guts to scale a mountain, face down a pit bull or eat blowfish sushi. Admit to a boo-boo? Child's play.

Madcap Heiress Scary Talk

2008-11-06T15:19:00.014-05:00

Well, people, here's a question for you: Are you still dressing for success or have you switched to duress?

While the dress/success style worked wonders through the left high and dry periods in my life, these days I need more armor. Truly, when even a chance encounter means listening to madcap heiress scary talk ("Neiman-Marcus is going bankrupt"), a cardigan thrown around the shoulders simply won't do.

Here's a round-up of essentials to wear when the dow is down, the mood is grim and talk of a bread line is not for a loaf of Poilane in the 6th Arr.:

Go monochromatic. Nothing looks as rich or as powerful as all-black, all-navy, all-grey.

Get a steamer. Not only is there no excuse for wearing anything rumpled or crumpled, it's aging and pity-inspiring.

Gloves and a scarf. It's amazing how well-chosen accessories can ward off evil naysayers simply by the discipline they connote.

Polished shoes. I'm starting to bore myself on this subject but nothing looks as sharp as a pair of well-shined shoes. Ladies, take note: This goes for you, too.

Skip the trends. If you're immune to whimsy maybe they'll think you're immune to an economic turndown.

Shop the vault. Shopping the closet was yesterday's epiphany...today it's about shopping the vault where you keep Grandma's platinum watch (wear it alongside your everyday watch) and Mom's pearls (add the fake stuff and voila, it's brilliant).

You Can't Win Alone

2008-11-04T11:02:00.006-05:00

Despite a weekend spent trying to keep The Lord from going to Fifth Paragraph (and thereby scaring the daylights out of everyone around him) this Election Day morning finds me in a supremely uplifted state of mind. No matter what Chicken Little has to say about this torpedoed economy, my bet is that once the election is over we're going to see a decided sense of relief and anticipation of what we need to do to get our country back on track.

For now, let me urge everyone to take some lessons from this remarkable campaign and how it can apply to all of us:

You Can't Win Alone. More than two years ago, both candidates sat down with their closest advisors and plotted their runs for the presidency. No matter what the goal, it's impossible to get there by yourself -- we all need strategists, connectors, mavens, thinkers, even 'Paul Reveres' to accelerate our drive and ambitions.

Know Your Narrative. We all have a story about what we do and why it matters but you must be able to articulate it. Telling your story in a way that encourages connectedness with your listener is perhaps the most critical aspect to why some people move faster than others.

Image Matters. This election wasn't just about the content but the context. The fact that Obama kept his cool (and looked sensational) when things heated up earned him the admiration and adulation of not only his base but the media covering him.

Confidence is Everything. No matter how the polls were trending, all of the candidates were serenely confident that they would prevail. Only in the last weekend when Senator McCain poked fun at himself on "SNL" did we see a chink in his armor.

There's No Such Thing as Anonymity. While 2008 is the year YouTube became a tool for political campaigning, someone is watching you and me -- all of the time. So remember that when you hold the door an extra second or grab the parking spot I've been waiting for.

Get a Campaign Song. I don't know about you but I'm certainly going to find a song that epitomizes everything I believe in. And when I find that song, I'm going to sing it, I'm going to hum it, I'm going to rock to it as I walk on and off the set of everyday life.

And Just Like That

2008-10-27T14:17:00.008-04:00

I gave a little presentation last week for members of the Chamber of Commerce. The subject: Marketing. The product: You. Whittled down to its essence, I talked about how it's the little things that seem to matter the most when forming a positive first impression. Do you look someone in the eye? Do you smile? Does your posture indicate empathy and interest when someone is speaking? Are you fully engaged? And most importantly, do you care about someone's well-being or are you only interested in you, you, you?

Nothing I said was of monumental consequence but in this dire economy it was good for the attendees to hear how the cheapest form of product marketing (you at your best) can actually build business. As the desserts were served, I walked around the room and found myself face to face with a non-believer.

"You mention the importance of the front desk greeting patients but it's really tough to expect someone to do all the work we're giving her and still have time to say hello," said the eye doctor, somewhat defiantly.

Got it. I haven't been to his office but I've been to the kind of office he's running. You walk in and you're met with a blank stare. A crooked finger tells you to step to the front desk to pick up the form sheet. The receptionist's obnoxious (and cretinous) ear bud encourages conversation but not with you. Am I the only one who has wondered if the doctor knew the kind of message his office is sending?

I know people like the doctor who rather than fight rude and dehumanizing behavior end up embracing it with their whacked out rationalizations. So I've got some news for you, doc: One of these days a patient will complain about your office to a friend who will tell her "My doctor's office is wonderful" and just like that your patient will bolt.

I know because I've done it.

Send Her to 'Wardrobe'

2008-10-23T12:48:00.011-04:00

Is there a woman alive who doesn't feel a sense of envy at the news of Gov. Palin's $150,000 wardrobe makeover? Forget the clothes for a minute. What about shopping without having to hide the receipts?

In a weird sort of way, I felt the same when I heard about Eliot Spitzer's final tryst with Ashley Dupre (a.k.a Kristen) in Washington, D.C.'s Mayflower Hotel. The liaison included travel to and from New York plus full use of the mini-bar. When was the last time we checked in and The Lord said "hey, want a Toblerone?"

Other People's Money rules!

Back to business...this tempest in a teapot over six weeks' worth of suits and Louboutin heels is ridiculous. Does anyone have a camera-ready wardrobe for jumping on and off airplanes seven days a week looking polished and vice-presidential? A guy throws on a fresh shirt and tie and voila, he's ready for the next rally but a woman can't do that. She needs...stuff. Suits, shirts, sweaters, shoes and the savviest of stylists to create an indelible impression of a perfectly-appointed hockey mom ready to rule the free world.

Let's not be naive. Forty years ago Joe McGinniss changed the way we view political campaigns with his book "The Selling of the President 1968." Politics is show biz ("send her to wardrobe") plus advertising...and everyone knows there's very little truth in any of those.

Sartorial survival

2008-10-16T14:08:00.007-04:00

Reader, I must confess, I view the world through the prism of sartorial obsessions which is why, given the current economic climate, I think it's time for the guys to hang up the Dockers, the sockless loafers, the two-button golf shirts and shop de closet where they will hopefully find a navy wool blazer, a smartly-tailored chalk stripe suit and an array of button down shirts and paisley and striped ties. This "uniform" will serve them well in the months ahead when showing up for work looking smart and polished and business-like is just the ticket to survival.

As for the ladies'...those of you who thought a pair of killer jeans, Jimmy Choo high-heeled boots and a bomber jacket was all you needed to compete, guess what? I do believe you'll find lurking somewhere a smart black pant suit, a couple of crisp white shirts, a pair of highly-polished loafers and a beautiful gabardine overcoat that will reinforce your remarkable work ethic and professional aspirations.

Epochs ago, when the heir and the spare tried to pull one over Third Paragraph and wear shorts to school, words were exchanged. And using the hegemony of my position, Viscounts A. and J. were sent back to their turrets and returned to the breakfast table in long pants. "When you wear shorts, you're telling your teachers you'd rather be at the beach."

Fast forward: The beach days are done. It's time to get back to looking like you're ready to put in a hard day of work. (Sorry.)

More "ooh," s'il vous plait

2008-10-14T12:05:00.008-04:00

Dear Blog, I am writing under the influence of Airborne, Contac and Luden's Cherry Cough Drops (don't you pine for the days of those chewy Smith Bros. cough lozenges that came in honey and cherry?) as my cold is in full throttle.

As the economy tightens like a too small pair of Spanx I am unable to sit back and watch my clients forget the cardinal rule of operating in modern society: The Spin is all.

I overhead a young man (in truth, the son of The Lord) tell a relative about his current stint of employment. In describing his internship, Viscount J. said "I'm working for a political website." Now that's absolutely true however it's not a political website, it's one of the internet's most prominent and respected political websites. Blue chip, in fact. And by omitting its name the Viscount missed an opportunity to add a bit of sheen or spin to his biography.

A client and I meet to discuss her personal narrative. What exactly does she tell people when she talks about her work? She admits to going micro (big thud) rather than emphasizing the razzle and the dazzle. She's got a terrific business but does she spin it? (Opportunities to stand out and be admired are missed.)

The monosyllabic does not substitute for energizing conversation. A plain "all right" does not advance an engaging and hopefully cross-referenced encounter. An in-depth accounting of business travails does not send my spirits soaring.

Am I advocating a gasbag approach to social discourse? Au contraire. But marketing is about differentiation and articulating the "ooh" in what you're doing. Put it out there for all to admire.

Put Your Hand Out

2008-10-10T13:05:00.012-04:00

Blog, it's been awhile but I've been reading and thinking about this economic mess and its impact on career and business opportunities and how to increase one's options. How tempting it would be to throw in the towel while the alternative of pushing ahead and remaining warily optimistic seems so much more appealing to my sunny nature.

This morning as I was heading out the door, I pulled the Times Business section from yesterday for a second look. The story about Neel T. Kashkari, 35, a former Goldman Sachs investment banker whom Secretary Paulsen has tapped to oversee the $700 billion bailout effort caught my eye.

How did someone like Mr. Kashkari with only six years of experience in finance and government get on Mr. Paulsen's radar screen? Before I could read further, my imagination took flight: Was he a former Navy Seal? A Fulbright winner? Had he written a novel while commuting to his office? Or perhaps he 'toddled' (never mind prepped) at one of those Park Avenue pre-schools that send their graduates to run hedge funds?

None of the above. He has impeccable credentials, of course, but most importantly, he's the consummate networker.

Two years ago, Mr. Kashkari's supervisor helped him set up a meeting with Mr. Paulsen, who was then Goldman Sachs chief executive. The so-called reason for the meeting: Mr. Kashkari was interested in government service and Paulson had worked in the Nixon administration. (Rule #5 in trying to get ahead: When attempting to get on someone's radar screen, have an advocate set up an information-gathering meeting.)

According to Mr. Kashkari, Paulson was encouraging. And when President Bush asked Mr. Paulson to serve as Treasury secretary, Mr. Kashkari called him, reminded him of their conversation and asked for a job. (Rule #9: Don't be afraid to ask for the position, internship, meeting, referral or order.)

Mr. Paulson hired Mr. Kashkari as his special assistant in that he took on special projects that caught the secretary's interest. It didn't come with real estate as Mr. Kashkari shared a cramped official with another junior official (Rule #7: Don't worry about the a la carte when trying to move ahead. Focus on the entree.)

Mr. Paulson soon gave him a bigger portfolio and while he had mixed success, he was soon promoted, winning Senate confirmation to be assistant secretary for international economics. (Rule #2: Don't dwell on the projects that didn't fly. Just keep spinning the stuff you're superb at.)

And so today Mr. Kashkari, who is remembered by his teachers as a "gentle and persuasive student" will be in charge of like, the world's financial stability. Is he up to the task? (Is anyone?) All I can tell is that he's very very good at soothing and caressing brobdingnagian egos.

Can I overstate the importance of connections? Or having the confidence to put your hand out and ask for some help? I don't think so....

Au Revoir Thank You Note?

2008-09-29T10:50:00.011-04:00

The Lord and I were headed up Tenth Avenue on our way to Lincoln Center when he mentioned an interview with Chris Matthews about Richard Nixon. Normally I am loathe to hear anything about either man but The Lord said I'd like this story so I encouraged him to go on.

To make the point Nixon had a soft heart, Matthews described a visit by the young Kennedy children and their mother to the White House. The Lord wasn't sure if Mrs. Onassis or Nixon initiated the visit but Nixon welcomed the children and personally gave them a tour. (Reader, are you riveted by this story?) Just as I began to mentally rearrange the food in the refrigerator, The Lord produced the voila moment: Two days after the visit, Nixon received hand-written thank you notes from both Kennedy children.

"Is that the correct amount of time for sending out a thank you note?" inquired The Lord.

Wonderful question. And here's my response: It's fabulous to send out a personal thank you note within 24 hours. It sets you apart -- I swoon when I get one. But there's a rhythm to these notes...you're cannot send them out too quickly either. For example, it's completely warped to leave someone's office, take the elevator down to the lobby and on your way to a Starbucks, text message a thank you to the person you've just spent time with.

Take some time to think about what you want to say and within 24 - 48 hours of receiving someone's gift or time or recommendation, write a handwritten note of appreciation. Slip the note in the mail and sit back and wait for the huzzanahs from the recipient. You will get them, I promise.

With so few ways to out-class the competition, this is guaranteed to do it: A simple card, a few sentences of thanks and a stamp.

Oh for an adventure!

2008-09-23T14:12:00.017-04:00

The Lord informed me that he would be leaving very early this morning to take his trusty (and rusty) MG to the mechanic in Massachusetts en route to a meeting in Connecticut. "Early?" (Envious as I love early mornings trips). "Five-thirty and I'm taking Al. He loves an adventure."

An adventure? Has The Lord been evolving right before my eyes? Isn't this the man who famously said "that's why they call it work" when I complained about some nimcompoop boss.

Having studied at the School of Seven Dwarves where whistling is taught before grammar, I marvel when people talk about burnout and on the job agony and yet cannot imagine an alternative (and fight me if I try to suggest one.)

Call me naive but I do have a few examples of people who turn the everyday into an adventure. Take Miss Dazzle who parlayed a consulting gig into running one of the country's preeminent tabletop accessories company. Despite an hour commute and an 11 hour day, Miss Dazzle uses her "toing" time to talk fashion, politics and culture while keeping her relationships current and close. Or Miss W., who leads a first-rate public relations firm wearing rockstar glamorous clothes, teetering heels and wielding a blackberry that emits literary and literate missives rather than incomprehensible responses. Although this wonder woman once "packed it in," today she's a force and having the time of her life.

Could Dazzle's and Miss W.'s success have something to do with attitude? Hmmm....

More Oxygen, Please

2008-09-18T15:42:00.009-04:00

Over morning ablutions (he shaving, me patching), the Lord High Executioner and I discussed modern day business behavior (i.e. boorish and rude behavior that is now classified as 'bottom line' managing). As someone who appreciates and even relishes urgency, I'll confess that I prefer my cut to the chase with a dollop of pretty please.

The Lord remarked, "it's not easy to find someone with technical competence who's also personable."

Yikes. Could he be right? If so, bombs away, my dears...kill them with kindness as I'm certain that someone with talent and a wonderful attitude is going straight to the top.

There have always been and always will be mood-disordered individuals who lead corporations to success. But everyone also knows that they inspire little loyalty, only fear. And my guess is that they don't have nearly as much fun as the leaders who get the vision thing and also develop the talent and energies of those around them. The best boss I had knew how to have fun even while meeting deadlines, soothing clients, bringing in the business and managing a staff. She did it all without the withering glances and fear-inducing scowls.

I'm one of those people who love to work hard with a little song in my heart. Laughter serves as my stimulant -- no matter how long the day and how much needs to be done, I need to find the joy in what I'm doing. And I'm not the only one.

Miss K. owns a charming boutique on the Boulevard Millburn. K. really knows her merchandise. She knows how to present her product. She's brilliant at sales. One would have to say she's technically competent at being a proprietess. But here's what makes her a phenomenon: she loves what she does. She's producing so much oxygen people stop in just to take a whiff.

I'm a great believer in options -- we all have choices in the way we run a business, sell a product, maintain relationships, lead an organization. For super performers like K., being technically competent is just one measurement of success and not the only reason for getting up in the morning and loving her life.

My Inner Tom Hagen

2008-09-11T14:45:00.010-04:00

One of the things I think I do awfully well (besides coaching and competitive dressing and oh yes, keeping friends for life) is talking to myself about everything. Over the years I've become my own Tom Hagen, The Godfather's consigliere (understatedly played by Robert Duvall) who sat by his side, offered sage counsel and then executed anyone who crossed the Corleone's.

I ruminate on everything and anything that piques my interest. While I don't always agree with myself I must admit that my inner conversations are energizing and hopefully illuminating.

Here's a conversation I had yesterday: Why do people slur their name and the purpose of the call when leaving a voicemail message? Am I the only one who is forced to listen not twice but three times in order to glean the purpose and content of the message? People, you know who you are that drove me to pay a service (Phone Tag) to convert the garble into text-messaged pidgin English. But tell me, why do people make the call and then dash off before creating a message that delights and moves me to action?

And lately I've been shaking my head and asking myself, "Why don't people respond to emails that are clearly time-sensitive?" People, this is huge. Huge! No wonder people say they can't get anything done -- they're not doing anything to push the can down the road. Toni M. says it's about "closing the loop" and I can't agree more. Stop multi-tasking and finish something.

As I was driving home from work last night along Boulevard Millburn, I asked myself, "Is clueless the new black?" Holy moly, why would a brand new store place a sign in the window that's hanging by only one piece of tape? Does anyone care? Is anyone there? We only get one shot (and less than four seconds) to create an impression.

Can any of us afford to put anything less than a well-shined shoe or a crisp and legible sign forward?

When is a peeling fence just a fence?

2008-09-09T14:48:00.004-04:00

I begin this blog posting the same way I began my diary in 1962 B.T. (before therapy) with an apology: Dear Blog, sorry for not writing to you.

For reasons beyond my control or understanding I left my keys in my car overnight and found myself with a dead battery. Once the car was boosted I was instructed by the Lord High Executioner (aka husband M.) to take it for a spin. Feeling guilty and stupid all at once, I grabbed my Annette Gantz black cotton jacket and rainboots and high-tailed it to the highway. No luck. The best bet was to head to Livingston, NJ which is why I was coming up South Orange avenue and caught the light at the corner.

This used to be my neck of the woods many epochs ago when my second shift kicked in and I drove the boys to the extracurricular activities that were considered shoo-ins to the haute colleges we aspired to. Whether or not these nocturnal swims were the tie-breakers we'll never know but I remembered the homes that dotted the way and now, I was staring at the rather forlorn and decrepit white picket fence that adjoined the parking lot for the pediatrician's office on the corner. Wow, I said to myself, he's really fallen on hard times.

But where was the evidence?

I didn't know the doctor nor his practice but it reminded me of a New Yorker cartoon where the shop owner posts a sign in the window "Lost My Motivation." No matter what anyone tells me, a dirty white picket fence in front of a doctor's home office is symbolic of something.

I've said it before but it's worth repeating: We're all reading messages about one another throughout the day. If your hair needs a trim, your fingernails are dirty, your pants have a spot (or two or three), I will not assume things are going brilliantly for you. And if you step outside in the morning looking like a zillion with the latest silhouette, hair full of bounce and a smile that's genuine and welcoming, well, I'm going to take a leap of faith and imagine you're living an enviable life. You may call me shallow (others have) but I'm convinced that clothes serve as armor and protect us from negative and undermining influences.

No matter where I'm going or what I'm doing I take the time and the energy to create an image of purpose and flair. You see, I'm a great believer in serendipity and I never want to thwart the opportunity to meet someone fabulous. When I'm dressed for "ready" I'm far more willing to initiate that hello, have a little chat, share a confidence or a recommendation.

If you've "lost your motivation" find someone who can remind you of your gifts and your talents and how they can be better utilized and make them part of your team. A peeling fence ain't just a peeling fence but a metaphor for a demoralized vision of life and its possibilities. A little coat of paint would probably do wonders.

Eleven white shirts

2008-08-26T16:07:00.002-04:00

I mentioned to a friend that I had purchased a white shirt and she responded, "how many white shirts do you have anyway?" "Eleven, I said." Rather than trouble you with the rest of this conversation let me get right to the point.

I like white shirts. For some reason white shirts give me power. They raise my blood pressure. They make me look younger. And when they're snowy and crisp and well-fitted, they give me the courage to get out in the world and grab life by its horns.

I'm not being ironic. White shirts have an amazing effect upon me. And so rather than chance it on a day when my spirits are a little lower, I always opt for a white shirt knowing that it will neutralize the demons.

I've become an expert on white shirts. My favorite is from Facconable. It's a boxy cut, one pocket and the collar is just right...not too wide, not too narrow. Costume National makes an amazing shirt but only to be worn after a week of dieting...the cut is very narrow but it really makes a great point with the elongated sleeve and the wide cuff. Last year I bought two cotton shirts from a small label called Kristianne du Nord and the cool thing about them is they're supposed to be worn wrinkled. It's really nice to travel with them.

I also have a pair of black baby doll pumps that raise my spirits. Whenever I wear them I feel a little smarter and a bit more vixen and pixiesh. I put them away during the summer but come the fall I will work them with either matte black stockings from Wolford or the fishnet stockings that my Mother deems unacceptable but are in fact the sexiest and most classic thing to wear with a simple black pencil skirt and one of the shirts from my closet.

I did not realize that people associated me with white shirts until the day I heard someone refer to me as "the woman who wears white shirts." I felt a little sad that I had become so predictable but then I realized I had become memorable, identifiable and connected to something visual.

I don't think it is all that hard being a standout in a conformist society. Of course, it does require a little bit of courage, a dollop of confidence and a dash of ingenuity. Anyone care to join me?

Outnumbered

2008-08-14T12:24:00.010-04:00

Maybe it's like programming the DVD and having an account with Twitter...I'm suddenly aware that this child of the 60s has to get with the program. And the program for today is: We're outnumbered by nincompoops in the workplace. There is a dearth of leadership, mentoring and support for all the young people leaving the safety of the university and finding themselves unarmed in a shark tank.

For example, a young client arrives and spins a Scheherazade-worthy tale of pure and pitiful incompetence at a well-known company and the people who occupy their corner cubicles. Given this young man's credentials, competence, charisma and character, you would think that management would nurture his progress in the hopes of encouraging him to take an ownership role in the company's success. Trust me, this is a superstar in the making.

The problem is, no one is thinking.

His boss systematically underutilized, underinformed and excluded the young man from meetings. Rather than stoke the young man's fire and use it to build the department, the boss followed the path of all bad managers and did everything possible to discourage his commitment to the company.
As we all know from previous jobs, we don't work just for the money.

It's not the first time I've heard this story from a client. The opportunities for developing young talent are being blown everyday because no one gives a damn. From my experience working with these fine young men and women I can tell you that they want to work their heart out but they need generous bosses, people secure enough to take pleasure in someone else's success.

And you don't have to be a boss to do this. Young professionals are in desperate need of post-graduate guidance. A lean organization might mean bigger profits but it will also mean that someone entering a company will not likely have a manager take a vested interest in them.

College prepares you to deconstruct Trollope. It doesn't prepare you for the chicanery of 21st century corporate America. And with the nincompoops ascendant, our young graduates, shiny with hope and expectation are finding themselves hopelessly and helplessly outnumbered.

Call up your favorite new graduate and take her to lunch.

Costume Department Drama

2008-08-12T11:41:00.006-04:00

I'm intensely interested in this year's Presidential race. It's not so much about seeing my guy win 'cause that's a given. I'm also fascinated by the messages being crafted, the strategy being executed and the narrative being enacted. The mechanics of winning the White House are not only epic but fraught with costume department worthy drama. Behind every candidate is a personal stylist polling whether Ohio prefers white shirts over blue. Clothes matter.

When a colleague recently forwarded an article from the Wall Street Journal on "How to Pull Off 'CEO Casual'", my instinct was to read the article through the lens of stagecraft. Clothes not only maketh the man/woman, they also have significant impact on the acceleration or stagnation of professional ambitions.

According to the article's Trevor Kaufman, a CEO running a digital-branding agency, anyone who wears a suit makes him exceedingly nervous. In fact, he tells the reporter, "A suit has become something you wear when you're asking for money." He goes on to extol the virtues of going sockless, British underwear and having shirts custom-made with a lowered top button (to conceal chest hair) and widened cuffs to accommodate thick and hugely expensive watches. Without a trace of irony, he connects his sartorial obsessions to establishing his creative authority.

Maybe so. But as my colleague Linda Y. pointed out, "Kaufman earned the right to sockless Prada loafers. He didn't start out sockless."

Unfortunately, the landscape is littered with sharpies who showed up for an interview projecting cool only to discover that the interviewer had a strange predilection for heat-seeking missiles. In a tightened economy, my money is on smart grooming habits and quiet attire that carries a whiff of seriousness and purpose.

Treat your closet like Warner Brothers's wardrobe department. When in doubt, slip into the costume of the ambitious, focused, supremely confident superachiever whose left brain capabilities are not at all thwarted by ties, tailored pantsuits or Gold Toe knee high socks.

And tune in to the sartorial decisions of the two candidates. You can be sure that come September, when the race tightens, decisions about jackets, sweaters, ties and shoes will be very much a part of the equation.

What is "The Third Paragraph?"

2008-08-06T17:11:00.003-04:00

When I was nine or ten I was on my yearly visit with my Aunt E. who was also my first writing teacher, confidante, analyst, therapist, coach, ally and all around remarkable influence. I had spent the previous summer at sleepaway camp and had written her a few letters. In one of those offhand moments that are seemingly innocent but seismic in impact, my Aunt said:"Ellie, I love the fact you wrote to me this summer but your letters should start on the third paragraph."

I looked at Aunt E. with surprise. "What do you mean?"

"Well, all of your letters began with "Hi. How are you? I am fine." It wasn't until you got to the third paragraph that the letters got interesting."

I remembered the vellum stationery I used that summer. And of course the hackneyed way I started the letters. Aunt E. was right...

My letters had started out dull and formulaic. They were predictable and pedestrian. I decided there and then to move to the grist as fast as possible so the reader would hear my voice and be compelled by the story.

I use the "third paragraph" rule for practically every form of communication whether it's emails, personal correspondence, voicemail, text messages...even blog entries. I even use the rule in conversations. I don't have interest in the superficial...I'm on the lookout for connections and real connectedness.

Not everyone can communicate on the third paragraph. For some people it's better to stay in the safer, less treacherous terrain of the banal. But if you're willing to take a risk, if you're willing to be real, you'll discover a richness of closeness and understanding that can only come when you start in the middle where the fun (and the pain) are waiting.

Big Mistake

2008-08-03T12:02:00.003-04:00

We had breakfast this morning at Cianci, the charming European bistro that just happens to be located on Main Street in New Jersey. Our waiter Mike is leaving in a few weeks to return to college in Boston. Mike is terrific and attentive and polite and one can't help wishing him well so I decided to give him a piece of unsolicited advice.

"Make some mistakes," I said.

The biggest mistake young people make is being afraid of making mistakes. Back in the old days it was perfectly acceptable to blow it, screw up, get a C grade as long as it was in the pursuit of some passionate enterprise. Not today...today my young coaching clients have been so programmed that when they leave the so-called safety of university life they feel as though they've been pushed out of a plane without a parachute. As the good Doctor W. would say, "they're two inches from the floor but it feels like two hundred feet."

There are lots of situations where mistakes should not be tolerated but taking a difficult class or seeking a job in a field that may not pay off but piques the interest should not fall under that heading.

Many of my coaching clients haven't made a mistake in their life. Big mistake. The little errors, the small roadblocks are excellent preparation for the curveballs life tends to throw you.

So go ahead...fail at something. Blow it completely and watch how your world doesn't splinter, your friends don't abandon you, the sun still comes up and goes down. As Kate Monster sings in "Avenue Q"..."And you never know 'til you reach the top if it was worth the uphill climb."

The Entitlement Problem

2008-08-01T11:41:00.003-04:00

I stopped at the local health food store this morning to buy the ever fabulous Ecco Bella Vanilla Body Lotion and to share a few words (and laughs) with owner Alan R. His shop is located in one of those "strip malls" that one finds in suburbia and has recently welcomed two new upscale neighbors -- a very luxurious nail spa and a Java Brewing coffee house. I noted how the parking lot was quite filled and wondered aloud if a new type of clientele would be coming into Alan's store.

"They're coming," he said, "and they're brutal."

I knew immediately what Alan meant: The entitlement problem that's epidemic and probably pandemic at this point.

I wonder: Are you born with the entitlement gene or is it something you acquire? The reason I mention this is that it's a blind spot for anyone who's hoping to earn the kind of enviable reputation that money cannot buy. You earn it by faithfully and flawlessly demonstrating consideration and respect for everyone you encounter in the course of a day.

I define entitlement as this: Someone who shows a pronounced lack of interest in the feelings and concerns of someone else. An entitled individual will interrupt two people in conversation because waiting their turn simply will not do. Entitled people sashay, they do not walk. Entitled people see the world split between those that are served and those that serve. Entitled people do not understand boundaries since in their (distorted) minds they occupy a far greater swath of psychic space than those around them.

I know a lot of entitled people. And frankly they rub me the wrong way and I bet they rub a lot of people the wrong way. And eventually it will trip them up, derail their career trajectory, diminish their opportunities.

So I listen as shopowners and salespeople lament and complain but I know this: If I ever spot entitlement from anyone I coach with, I point it out and we work through it. Because I can get evangelical on the subject of "E" and why it needs to be erased from the face of the Earth. Like malaria.

There's Something About Isaac

2008-07-31T14:10:00.004-04:00

Alex texted me last night to let me know he spotted fashion designer Isaac Mizrahi in the West Village. Normally spotting a designer wouldn't be worthy of a text message (to Mother) but he knows I have a soft spot for Isaac.

I met Isaac Mizrahi many years ago when he was holding trunk shows at Bergdorf Goodman, the luxurious department store in NYC. Maybe I should write "performing at trunk shows at Bergdorf Goodman" since Isaac is a born performer and loves entertaining people with his riffs, bonhomie and marvelous attitude towards life.

Isaac radiates energy. He finds the humor in the quotidian. And he knows how to create a relationship...a few years after that first encounter I was reading VOGUE on the train and realized he was referring to me in an article called "Altar-ed Chic." The story painted me as a neurotic but I had a good laugh and sent him the page to autograph (he did and sent it back to me).

You might think that someone like Isaac Mizrahi, a bona fide household name, might be a wee haughty but he's not because his power and influence comes from his unbelievable zest and panache. He doesn't hide his excitement or his passions under a bhurka...nor should anyone.

I think the days are waning when someone could project disinterest, jadedness and disdain and still be on a short-list for leadership positions and new opportunities. Today it's about your bandwidth -- how many people do you know and how well can you interact with them. Take a lesson from Monsieur Mizrahi -- beautiful tailoring, perfect manners and an exuberant attitude about a purposeful and cheerfully-driven life. I can't imagine a better look for anyone.

Missing Tim Russert

2008-07-29T16:06:00.003-04:00

I walked into the bedroom this morning when Maureen Orth was on CNN talking about her article about Carla Bruni in "Vanity Fair." Orth is the widow of Tim Russert, NBC's Washington Bureau Chief and Moderator of "Meet the Press."

At the close of the interview, the host offered his condolences to Orth. As they cut to a commercial, I said to Mark "I miss Tim Russert."

I miss Tim Russert for a lot of reasons but especially because he wore his passion on his sleeve. His zest and his energy and his enthusiasm was palpable -- I could feel it through the screen -- and I miss that.

I know only a few people whose sense of joy is magical to behold. They dig life. They dig people. They get it. They fall in love with sorbets, new books, thatched roofs, seeing other people succeed. They're not waiting for life to be handed to them.

One young man comes immediately to mind. He exudes purpose. He's delightful to spend time with. He makes a visit something worth savoring.
He's giving everything he's got to the encounter, holding nothing back. I wallow in the richness of the experience.

It's not going to be easy to replace Tim Russert. Sure they can find someone with a fantastic memory for facts and statistics and polls and follow-up questions. But that wasn't what made Tim Russert remarkable. Russert's love of life, his thirst for engagement, his delicious and delightful sense of wonder was the reason we found him compelling and now irreplaceable.

Good buzz/bad buzz

2008-07-24T15:50:00.011-04:00

I wonder if people realize how they hold "buzz" in their hands. Buzz is like your reputation but writ a bit larger...it's what makes people admired and sought after or diminished and ignored.

There are lots of ways to create good buzz...you can return phone calls and emails within 24 hours; you can exhibit good manners at all times (even when no one is looking); you can open your rolodex or PDA and share a name; you can call just to say I'm thinking about you to cement a relationship. Bad buzz is even simpler: Act like a self-centered, self-important prat at all times; treat anyone who isn't a player (in your book) with disdain; leave people out of meetings just for sadistic fun; answer your cellphone or read your blackberry when in a meeting...I could go on and on. The point I'm making is this: We're all sending messages everyday that can either accelerate our success or derail it.

Rather than rail against fate, take a look at your behavior. It may just be your buzz.