I received an impromptu invitation this morning to attend a dinner hosted by a former colleague (from almost 20 years ago) who is now a CEO and mover and shaker in my industry. The location? A swanky Beverly Hills award-winning restaurant. We’ll be joined by two of his colleagues, one I’ve met before.
I was thrilled to accept the invitation. I haven’t seen him in over a decade at least. And he is very connected in my industry. His name is one of the ones that appears on my list of references, based on my being a receptionist at the nonprofit where he was, at the time, an executive assistant. We’ve kept in touch, and even back then, he has always encouraged me to believe in my abilities and what I bring to the table no matter what my position on the hierarchy.
The problem? I left for work this morning thinking that it wouldn’t matter who I saw today and dressed accordingly. There is no time to go home and change.
The good news is that, since I’ve started going to the gym, there have been a couple instances in which I’ve accumulated clothes in the trunk of my car that I’ve been too lazy to remove. I found a pair of dark wash skinny jeans and a relatively flattering top that didn’t require any ironing. I even had two pairs of shoes that would appropriately replace the flip flops I had worn out of the house this morning.
In my dungeon bag I found a pair of earrings and a necklace that I’d removed before a rope scene months ago.
All I needed was makeup.
I mean, I look tired.
But…I am tired. I’d considered heading over to a nearby department store and seeing if I could get someone at one of the makeup counters to just apply a little glow. In the end, I decided to see what just adding a little bit of red lip gloss would do…
Y’know what? I look fine. I look more than fine.
Without a stitch of mascara or blush or tinted moisturizer, and my hair air-dried with visible roots, I look fucking fantastic.
It has nothing to do with my face or my skin or my clothes or the lipstick.
It has everything to do with confidence. Tonight I’m having dinner with one of the first people that ever made me feel confident professionally. What I wear doesn’t matter.
What I bring to the table does.
1 thought on “Professional confidence trumps mascara”
Today is my 67th birthday–this is a great present! Thanks.