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Showing posts with label venting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label venting. Show all posts

Thursday, April 25, 2013

Dressing The Part





Before I start today's...welp, some people might call it a "rant", but I prefer to think of it as "passionate advice coming from a place of love." Oh, just humor me. Anyhoo, before I start venting, let me just say that I personally have a ton of J.Crew clothing in my closet, but when I see them selling items like this as "professional," I tend to get grumpy. And you wouldn't like me when I'm grumpy.
 
Considering that even the model looks somewhat shell-shocked by what she’s wearing— though maybe that’s also the effect of J.Crew forbidding the poor girl from brushing her hair—there’s probably not much else you need to know to avoid this “look”. 

You have to understand that the workplace doubles as a grueling, non-stop audition process for the professional roles you want. Thus, you have to dress and behave in a manner that is appropriate to your specific industry. So, say, you're an attorney trying, eventually, to be "cast" for senior associate, for partner, for counsel: you have to dress the part you want, so you can embody the part you want.

When you go to work, you represent something bigger than yourself: you represent the corporate brand. You constantly represent the corporate brand. Not many law firms want their corporate brand to have uncombed hair, not to mention a distractingly-odd “suit.” Your firms wants you to fit in, to look and behave as if you understand where you are and what you're doing. If you wear something like this, what will clients think? They'll think, "Did she get dressed in the dark? Is there trouble at home? Oh the poor thing...can somebody handle my divorce please?" and then they'll take their dollars elsewhere, which means you don't meet your billable hours requirement, which means don't buy this suit.

You know where this unfortunate outfit is appropriate? At JCrew HQ. End of story.  If you wear this to your office, especially with your hair uncombed, I guarantee that people will 1) laugh openly and 2) refer to you from now on as “JCrew,” as in “Hey, JCrew, go do a Starbucks run for us.”  Does that sound mean? Allow me to welcome you to corporate America, which is approximately high school, but without the sex appeal.

Want more sartorial guidance? Don't even play, kid, I know you love it! Email me @ carlotazee@gmail.com, and like my Facebook page, "Carlotaworldwide Creativity Yenta," for a free consultation!

 

Friday, December 2, 2011

Friday quickie vent

This blog is about creativity coaching, yes? It's, theoretically, about me reaching out to you, Dear Reader, and helping you become empowered and passionate about what makes you tick.
Okay, but sometimes, this blog becomes my space for venting. As in, when I made the mistake of reading Jamie Bufalino's Get Naked column in this week's Time Out New York. But my venting today, boys and girls, is not so much about Mr. Bufalino, as about the second letter-writer. Here's a link: http://newyork.timeout.com/sex-dating/2283697/get-naked
(*musical pause here, as you read the second letter*)
Whoa. Where to start, right? Let's make it clear: I'm certainly no dating 'expert', whatever that might mean, but I have run through, um I meant "dated" more than my fair share of mens. I have enjoyed myself. I wouldn't say I'm the easiest person in the world to date (Ha!), but I am fun. I like to drink. I an excellent conversationalist. I show a lot of cleavage. I have an inappropriate sense of humor, and crucially, I enjoy being naked with a good-looking boy. So, maybe I'm no expert, but I have some basic sense to share with the letter-writer, as in: Are you for serious?? How are you, a 40-year-old woman, seriously wondering if this guy is going to change, if he's "committed to getting help," given his history of cheating on every single woman in his life? Um, what to the what! I know what you want to hear--that yes, your love can change him-but let's be honest, shall we?
He's 51; he's cheated on every relationship; he's cheated on you a number of times. And news-flash: these are only the instances that you know about... This isn't a sex-addiction. This is the joy of cheating. The thrill of, probably, knowing that there are lots of women out there who want to have sex with him. Pretty pathetic, right?
And, let's be clear: his behavior has nothing whatsoever to do with you. He cheats because he enjoys it. (So your attempt to justify his actions due to your extended absences is also horse-sh*t, sorry. You could be there 24/7 and he'll still find a way to cheat. To him, cheating = fun!)
I know: what's really painful is the realization that you're not "special," that even though he cheated on all the others, somehow your love didn't "change" him. That can be a depressing thought to consider. It can make you wonder if there's something wrong with you? (Answer: No, there isn't. Not a damn thing.)
Instead, you could understand that you are special to one person, the person to whom it should really matter: yourself. You could understand that and cut your loses, hit the road and stop wasting your time with this "loving father and successful executive." What, btw, does his "success" have to do with the fact that he's a cheating mofo?
Don't confuse the issue: he always has cheated, he always will cheat. So even if he wins a MacArthur Genius Award: he's still a cheater. His lies to you, about his "sex addiction," are boring and predictable; your lies to yourself are the heart of the matter.
This is NYC. My research has confirmed that there are a lot of fun boys out there, looking to meet women. And you're stuck on this loser...why?