Working Girl

Last week, I exchanged a jello mold for a mirror. My mother-in-law needed a festive frame for the amorphous dessert she was preparing, so I offered my cranberry mold; unexpectedly, I got a large antique mirror in return.

She had noticed a general lack of reflective surfaces in my house and proposed that this family heirloom would go well in the guest room. While the intention was purely decorative in nature, I took it as the second hint in a week to spend a little more time in front of a mirror.

After growing in girth to accommodate Mary, pushing her out and finding a more internal glow, I was proud of kicking vanity to the curb. The understanding of mirrors that my classmate earned during her mission work in Calcutta was finally mine; Gone were the days of practicing my duck face in the mirror; instead I could focus on the most authentic reflection of myself - the one that I found in others.

So it came as a shock last week, when I was given professional feedback to polish my image at work. Apparently Mother Teresa's theory, along with no-fuss (read no effort) hair and makeup don't apply to the workplace.

Here's the thing; in the past decade, millions of Millennials graduated to valedictorian and salutatorian speeches that were similar to Keri's. They preached that we could; no we WOULD change the world, not with our images, but with the content of our characters. They were met with thunderous applause and charged ambitions. While many of us went off to save the world through our service work; the rest of us entered the work place with a style and presence that industry still doesn't know how to manage. What do I mean:

• We are outspoken. And even if we are the most junior position in the room, we are going to share our perspective. When we share it, we expect applause.
• We were never cut or picked last at dodgeball, so the notion of being left out of privileged information is foreign.
• We wore flip flops to the White House. And don't understand why these versatile sandals are not work appropriate.  
• We don't iron anything.
• We love ponytails or some aberration of them.
• We slouch. And are more interested in posing to make our arm look skinny than actually being skinny 
• We are ruthlessly competitive, but we like to roll as a team.  
• We eagerly read and share every Huffington Post article about why beauty is an illusion; why bone thin isn't healthy; and why focusing on our internal sense of well being is the best course of action.
• We have been told that we can do it all, and we will.
• As much as we know, we are still clueless.

Which brings me back to the feedback I received. For nearly five months now, I've been going to work with a wet head of hair, pulled up in a pony tail, a face wiped clean of makeup, and one of the more comfortable business casual selections that my closet has to offer. True to the words that I remember hearing at my graduation, I walked past work's mirrors and focused on the the products churning out of my cubicle.

With an eye on development and a desire to grow within my company, I recently solicited tips on reaching my goals. The one that stuck was to pay more attention to my image - that if I wanted to be a director, I needed to dress like one. Cute won't cut it. Ouch.

At first I was defensive. Then self conscious. Then expertly investigative. I did some side by side comparisons with other working women in the bathroom mirror. I looked around meeting rooms. I assessed my coworkers. And I realized that the majority of the time, I was loosing. (And I hate loosing.)

So this week, I ran some trials. I went back to the Theory section of my closet, reached for the Prada pumps, spent five minutes drying the top of my hair and applying a little makeup, and wore earrings. As much as I hate to say it, I performed better. I felt like I aced meetings, wrote better memos, and carried myself more confidently to and from my desk.

I told myself, it's not vanity, it's business. It's the cost of being a competitor in corporate America.

And I will tell my colleagues this. We have been groomed to make big change in this world, but at this point in time, we still need to groom our outer appearances to get there. It's not superficial, it's one of humanity's longest lasting super powers.

Lo.