Last week, I set my father (Peter Post) up with an interview on summer attire at work. I got the link to the article yesterday and thought it was hysterical! The bottom line with dressing for work is to know your office environment and plan accordingly. But I thought this article really gave the topic a great sense of humor (and a good dose of reality too). Check it out.
This past weekend Drick and I had our first grown up houseguests come to stay. Drick’s parents were going to stay at a hotel, but we both insisted that they come and stay at our house. After all they were coming to help do work on the house, the very least we could do was to put them up for the night. It was pretty cute though to see the extra efforts we made considering our guests were more adult than we are. Here are some of the things we put a little extra effort into. While we certainly do our best when our friends are our houseguests, let’s face it we’re 24 and 25, we aren’t going to pull out all the stops for people our own age, mostly because it’s not fully expected from our peers. Not that Drick’s parents were expecting this, but we really wanted them to stay and we wanted to make it as nice and comfortable for them as possible.
It was fun entertaining on this level, and I’m really proud that Drick and I didn’t just say, “Oh it’s his parents they’ll understand” but instead, took the initiative to really try our best to make their stay welcoming and comfortable. I’m pretty sure it worked. : )
Last weekend I had the honor of giving the commencement
address for Brewster Academy's 2008
commencement ceremony. It was truly a
treat. The school not only invited me
but they invited Drick as well! So, I
had my honey with me on a business trip for a change which was great! The Brewster folks really know how to make
their guests feel at ease and welcome in the town of Wolfeboro, New Hampshire. We were treated to not just an amazing room
at the Afton Inn, but also a delightful dinner out the night before.
Doctor and Mrs. Copper (my hosts) did
a fantastic job at easing my nerves. (Yes, I was nervous.) This was my
first graduation speech and I’m pleased to say that it went well. (Despite the fact that my heart was pounding
like a cannon moments before I got up there.) I can certainly deliver a speech,
but that doesn’t mean I don’t get nervous, and it doesn’t mean the speech will
be well received. I knew I had written a
good one, but you still wonder the whole time (especially when you pause for a
joke that no one laughs at) whether or not people are connecting with it. This was a big day for that graduating class
and I wanted to make sure that I wasn’t just some stuffy expert up there
pontificating my beliefs, morals, and methods for life onto kids who really
just want the whole thing to be over so they can revel in the joys and freedom of
summer.
I was ecstatic when a number of the students found me at the luncheon following the graduation and not only thanked me for coming, but said that they truly enjoyed the speech. WOW is pretty much all I can think of. I was stunned. Maybe I don’t have enough faith in today’s teens or maybe I wasn’t a very grateful one myself, but I was seriously impressed that these students took the initiative to say something nice to me afterward. It absolutely made my day. So thank you, Brewster Academy, for such a great experience and for turning out such a fantastic group of young men and women! : )
And people wonder why my family has managed to have an 80 year career helping people with their table manners?? :) Just check out these shots and tell me eating isn't gross! We all need a little help not grossing others out. PIGGING OUT
This weekend I finally got some landscaping done which felt fantastic. However as I was watering my newly planted roses, I noticed a man on the side street next to my house. Then, I noticed a duck hunting boat. Finally, I noticed the camo painted aluminum boat was being attached to the lamppost outside my house with a “For Sale” sign on it. Are you kidding me, man???!!!! I finally get some of my hard sweat equity landscaping work done and you’re putting a nasty-looking, rusty old boat against my front fence!!!!
The annoyance: Ugly boat attached to a street sign far too close for comfort to my front yard.
The problem: I don’t know the neighbor at all-never even seen him before- so bringing up an issue (that he clearly doesn’t see as a problem) could be awkward.
My solutions:
A. Ask him to move that boat from the area in front of my house because it looks ugly and he never consulted me before putting something up for sale in front of my house.
B. Ask him to please take the boat back to his yard, and suggest he can put up a “boat for sale” sign on the corner.
C. Call the city and find out who actually has the rights to the property and then move forward from there.
D. Grab some chain choppers and a friend’s trailer to silently take care of the problem.
E. Wait it out a few days and if the ugly boat doesn’t sell, go over and explain the situation and ask that the boat be removed, and a sign go up on the corner informing potential buyers of who to contact.
Luckily, the next day the boat was gone, and my problem was too. I had, though, decided to wait a few days and then go over to the neighbor and gently explain my issue with the boat being for sale on my lawn. I would also have contacted City Hall to make sure I actually had the rights to the land the boat was on.
In mindless manner, I was catching up on the Times 100 Most Influential people when I came to # 71 George Clooney. I was about to hit “next” because I already knew of his talents as an actor, as well as his dedication to helping the situations in Darfur, however when I saw that Roseanne Barr had written the 300 words that followed, my mind went huh? And I had to read on.
I admit I know little about Barr and where her career has taken her after she left that hideous living room set, and nasty back-talking family that many of us fell in love with (I’m still perplexed as to why, but we did). In fact, the last thing I had heard about Roseanne Barr was that she intentionally massacred the National Anthem in a comedic effort that was less than humorous.
So why did I stop to blog about the 300 words that she had written? Because she wrote this about Clooney when describing his acting abilities, “he plays it all so, ‘south of snob, and north of slob.’” Pardon while I pick my jaw up from the floor for a second time.
Roseanne Barr, the queen of rude, crude, loud, selfish, and above all crass, just identified exactly what Emily Post etiquette is all about. “South of snob, north of slob.” My mind was temporarily blown at this connection. What connection? You ask? And I’m not surprised you’re asking. Maybe people associate Emily Post with high society, and a ridiculous rule book for how to maneuver one’s way through it while climbing ever higher.
While Emily was immersed in and surrounded by high society, she furthered its desire to include her by becoming the authority on how to handle interactions with others. Emily herself detested the snobbery that often came in such circles. She wrote about it, and how it came off as insincere and often belittling. In fact, Emily’s book was meant for all people. She never asked for people to change who they were. She never “required” people to be of a certain standing to interact with her (or anyone else for that matter). What she advised was that a person should use what they know, the small things (eye contact, a friendly hello, interest in others) to show consideration, respect and honesty to all they encounter. In short, stay clear of being a snob, and above being a slob, and you’ll be ok.
Sorry for the lapse, we had minor technical problem. Back to etiquette!
For an upcoming interview on how fashions have changed, I had to do a little research in the 1922 edition of Etiquette, and I came across a section that cracked me up. It reads:
Frumps are not very typical of America, vulgarians are somewhat more numerous, but the greatest number of all are the quietly dressed, unnoticeable men and women who make up the representative backbone in every city; who buy good clothes but not more than they need, and whose ambition is merely to be well enough dressed to fit in with their background, whatever their background may be.
Less numerous, but far more conspicuous are the dressed-to-the-minute women who, like sheep exactly, follow every turn of the latest fashion blindly and without the slightest sense of distance or direction. As each new season's fashion is defined, all the sheep run and dress themselves each in a replica of the other, their own types and personalities have nothing to do with the case. Fashion says: "Wear bolster cases tied at the neck and ankle." Or "A few wisps of gauze held in place with court plaster," and daughter, mother, grandmother and all the neighbors wear the same. If emerald green is the fashionable color, all of the yellowest skins will be framed in it. When hobble skirts are the thing, the fattest wabble along looking for all the world like chandeliers tied up in mosquito netting. If ball dresses are cut to the last limit of daring, the ample billows of the fat will vie blandly with the marvels of anatomy exhibited by the thin. Comfort, convenience, becomingness, adaptability, beauty are of no importance. Fashion is followed to the letter, therefore they fancy, poor sheep, they are the last word in smartness. Those whom the fashion suits are smart, but they are seldom, if ever, distinguished, because they are all precisely alike.
While Emily was praised throughout her career as a woman who made people feel comfortable and who was the epitome of grace, she wasn't afraid to call 'em like she saw 'em, which of course made her real. I would hope that when you think about what she said, you can understand her point of view. What I love, I mean absolutely love, about this snippet is that it's a fashion reality check. If you don't have the legs or the butt, or the stomach (or the age, for that matter) to pull off a certain fashion trend, don't try. Let it be motivation for you to either work on that area of yourself, or wear what looks good on you. Find a creative way of wearing the trend that doesn't cause you to overexpose yourself, or quite frankly make others (with whom you interact) uncomfortable.
For my spring vacation, Drick and I went to stay with a friend, Dave, in New Orleans. Contrary to popular thought, it’s not a big pile of rubble. (There are of course parts where the devastation is still being cleaned up and, with the help of many organizations, rebuilt.) However, the Garden District where Dave resides was in full swing with beautiful buildings, gorgeous landscaping, lots of dogs, and tons of “hellos”, “How ya doin’?”s and “hi”s. We very happily indulged in all the Big Easy had to offer. (Or at least we tried to.)
The South really is a more thoughtful place. At least in our experience. Maybe it’s the long months with the bitter cold winds biting at your face, or the begrudged feeling you get when you have to dig your car out from the 1 1/2 feet of snow that fell while you slept soundly, or maybe it’s the rivalry between the Red Sox and the Yankees. Whatever it is something makes us Northeastern types less friendly and less interested in Joe Schmo to our right.
Everywhere in Nawlin’s we found friendliness. From the street car drivers, to the maintenance guys on the golf course everyone was smiling, helpful, and ready to pass it on (with a drink) to the next guy. (I think it partly has to do with the open container laws and the fact that this city will party at the drop of a hat. No wonder my aunt, Peggy, who grew up here is so much fun!)
I can’t tell you how badly I want to just write about the food and the culture and my incredible round of golf (J). But I wouldn’t be writing for the family biz if it didn’t deal with etiquette, and I had one moment in particular that stood out as a moment of sheer good etiquette, something that this North Easterner would probably never experience in her homeland of frozen ground and faces.
Our host was taking us to one of his favorite spots for dinner. I don’t remember the name of it, just that the word Dante was in it and they had an outdoor seating area. Unfortunately Dante’s was closed. So we zipped around the block to another place. Closed. Then we saw across the street there was what looked like a restaurant, so we figured we’d walk in and check it out. Dave had never been there, and we were in the mood for anything at this point. With white lace curtains drawn up and no menu outside we had no idea if they were even open (and certainly not expecting it after our first two tries).
As I opened the door, I was greeted
by an outstanding aroma, and a beautiful hallway. As I opened the door further, I saw a room to
the right with white tablecloths, candles, and all gentlemen in coats and ties,
none of whom looked under the age of 50. The three of us, me in a casual skirt, and wrinkled top, Drick in half-off-the-ass
jeans and his red and white sneakers, and Dave in his casually crinkled dress
shirt and cords all thought at the exact same moment not for us, not tonight.
Just as we were about to turn and walk out unnoticed. The hostess of about, of about 50+ years, blew me away. She walked up to her little stand and with the utmost kindness and sincerity, the kind of sincerity that made you ever so grateful and appreciative that it still exists, said, “Good evening, how are you all doing tonight?” “Fine, thank you,” we responded in our best, we’re-at-grandma’s-friend’s-house voices. “May I have the name for your reservation?” Lady whoever you are, you are too sweet for words. “I think we’re a little underdressed this evening.” I responded apologetically. And Dave chimed in with a regretful sounding “We didn’t make a reservation.” Everyone chuckled a little because it was so clear from the moment we breathed the air inside, that this wasn’t the place for us, not tonight anyway, and she was so kind to act as if it was fine that we were there. “Please take a card and come back another night, it’s the best food in New Orleans!” “Thank you we certainly will.” A few steps away from the restaurant, the three of us little scrubs laughed whole heartedly and kept repeating how that would never happen up North. In the North you would have gotten a dirty look, and an immediate dismissal for your attire. Down here, it’s sweetly ignored that you’re horrendously underdressed and you’re treated with the utmost genteel and understanding. God bless the South, for that southern charm!
There
are any number of things that keep someone from returning to a gym. Laziness, a desire to not worry about it
anymore, aches, pains, meat-heads, all the skinny people in perfect shape who
make you somehow envision being a hit man in another life. But nonetheless, I returned to my gym ready
for more—ready to become one of those people in perfect shape. Full sails ahead, I’m ready to work out
world!...
…Until
I experienced what I believe to be the very absolute worst faux pas one can
make at the gym: talking on a cell phone while exercising. Yes, that’s right, to me there is something
worse than not wiping down the equipment.
Don’t
get me wrong, I’m moving forward with the rest of society and fell in love with
my cell phone years ago. I even recently
went so far as to purchase a BlackBerry (and I love it!). But there is a difference between owning and
needing a cell phone, and abusing one. Not
to toot my own horn, but I am a master of my phone, and not a slave to it. I turn it off at the theatre; I don’t check
it while my boyfriend and I eat dinner; I try quite hard to ignore it when I’m
with friends. And the gym is one place
where I make absolutely certain to hold true to my mastery—I rarely even bring
it in. If I do, you can bet it’s on
silent/vibrate, and I’ll only text on it.
I don’t
mind at all if people text, it’s quiet, it’s not distracting and mostly I can’t
see what you’re saying. But when you hop
on that cardio equipment, set your workout time for 45 minutes, and then whip
out your phone and proceed to call three friends and tell each of them about
your special night with Jack and what you two did (As the woman down a few machines from me
did.) it’s just not ok. I’m sorry, but
the not-so-nice side of me wants you to fall off, hopes your phone gets caught
in the machine and mangled to a million pieces, and for added salt in the wound,
I hope Jack doesn’t have your number! (MUAHAHAHAHAHHHAHAHAHAAAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH!)I’m not really that evil.
The
nicer side of me says that when you do encounter this, try to ignore it if you
can. There are certainly people who have
to take emergency calls (not from Jack) but from ill family members, troubled
children, and so on. If it’s really a
problem (and the content of the conversation doesn’t sound like an emergency) you
can certainly try leaning over and saying, “Pardon me, but would mind making
those types of calls in the lobby, I’d really appreciate it. Thank you.” With a sweet and sympathetic face,
who could turn you down or be offended by that? If you don’t want to get confrontational, then
by all means go tell a staff member and or fill out a suggestion form asking
for a rule about cell phone use at the gym.
A friend to not use
her cell when you hang out?
If it seems to be a real problem when you hang out with this friend then yes of course. When you next invite your friend to come over for a gab sesh or even for dinner, sweetly say to her, “Kate I really love it when we hang out but let’s turn our phones off when we get together. I love our time together so much and it would help me focus on that.”
For an RSVP from
friends who haven’t gotten back to you about an invitation yet?
Of course
it’s ok! If your guests haven’t gotten
back to you within a week by all means pick up the phone and touch base with
them. Say something like, “Hi John, I
was just calling to make sure you and Tara
To bring a date to a
wedding you’ve been invited to?
Unless the invitation states your name with “and guest” or “plus one” next to it than you need to attend this wedding solo. Because weddings are catered events and usually have a pretty high cost per head it’s important not to add to the host’s expenses by bringing a surprise guest, or requesting to bring an extra person.
What you’ll be having
and who else is coming to a dinner party you’ve been invited to?
These questions are harmless amongst the closest of friends and family, but should truly be avoided. The idea being that if you’re asking what’s for dinner, or who is coming that your decision to come or not is based upon these things and not the fact that the host has invited you over. Some people can consider this insulting so if you dare to ask, make sure that you know how the host would feel about it first. What if you need to ask about the food because of an allergy you ask? Instead of asking what will be served, just simply mention to your host that you have an allergy, “Oh Luke I’d be so happy to come, I have to let you know though that I am severely allergic to peanuts, I hope that’s not going to spoil anything.” If you’re curious because of diet restrictions, rather than put the road block up for your host to worry about suggest bringing a dish. “We’d love to come to dinner, I am a vegetarian though would it be alright with you if I brought an extra dish?”
