I never had a weight problem growing up but I wasn't what you'd call thin. I enjoyed wearing nice clothes even though in grade school my friends and I often preferred wearing flannel shirts and a pair of jeans.
Groovy outfit with a midriff, Converse sneakers and John Lennon glasses (1971) Oy.
In 1984 I took my second job at a large real estate company in New York City. My new employer, wealthy in his own right, married the daughter of an oil entrepreneur who also owned 20th Century Fox. The year after I worked for the company, my employer and his new partner "paid roughly $500 million for 45 apartment houses, containing 6,200 rental units. The New York Times called it the largest residential real estate transaction that the New York metropolitan area had ever seen."
My employer loved tennis and hobnobbed with the tennis stars of the day. (Unfortunately the tennis star Vitas Gerulaitis died of carbon monoxide poisoning while sleeping in my employer's Southhampton pool-house bedroom.) My colleagues and I handled the closings of deluxe apartments for many tennis stars as part of our job. It wasn't unusual to see them milling about our Madison Avenue office.
It was important how we looked and dressed, particularly to the two women who were our direct bosses. I say "we" because my colleagues (and there were many) were young, pretty twenty-somethings vying for attention to climb higher on the corporate ladder. One of our bosses was vulgar in her manner and speech, often bragging about the great sex she had with her boyfriend the night before. She had a high opinion of herself, and thought nothing of demonstrating her latest "positions" for our listening displeasure.
How we looked was of the utmost importance to her. I knew she didn't care for me because I wasn't a size 0.
It wasn't unusual to spend our lunch hour (when we had one) at Saks Fifth Avenue or Bloomingdales to shop for clothes, two expensive department stores that I had no business walking into. I was trying to keep up with the Joneses even though my meager paycheck barely covered rent, bus fare, and living expenses.
I also needed to stay in shape. Every night I'd religiously do my Jane Fonda workout routine. The brisk walk to and from Port Authority to Madison Avenue was a decent cardio workout.
One day our co-bosses called a meeting for a few of us underlings. As we gathered in their office (they shared one) my vulgar boss went around the room and commented on our clothing. She adored my closest friend who was petite, stylish and completely adorable.
When she looked at me she stopped for a brief second and declared, "Look at Cathy. She almost has a waist. Keep up the good work!"
I was inconsolable and wanted to quit and run home. In my young mind I was devastated, humiliated and traumatized. My self-esteem plummeted.
Somehow I got through the day, and made a pact with myself to get thinner so I could show her who had a small waist. It sounds silly but I was young and vulnerable.
Who was she to pass judgement on me? As we age we get smarter, but as I said before words can hurt, and something said years ago sometimes stays with us forever.
But life moves in mysterious ways. A few years later my husband (then fiance) and I were visiting a friend who lived in Lincoln Towers, a beautiful apartment complex located behind Lincoln Center in Manhattan and owned by my former employer. Before our visit I wanted to stop by the real estate office to say hello to a few of my ex-colleagues.
After hugging and exchanging niceties, a voice from behind me loudly said, "Hello." It was Miss Vulgarity.
She looked awful. Her gray hair was disheveled and her posture was poor. Wrinkles had set into her leathery face, and she carried a tiny paunch. I'm not proud of this, but I felt very happy.
She was unmarried and unhappy; her facial expressions spoke volumes. She stared and stared at my fiance. As she was staring I told her we were engaged. She hesitated for a few seconds before finally congratulating me. I caught a sad glean in her eyes, and I knew what that meant. I just knew.
That's sad... for both of you. But it's you I feel worst about. What a despicable thing for a boss to do.
And look at your hair in that photo! Lovely!!
Isn't it amazing how people can wound us...and that they would even want to?
Oh wow..how horrible to judged that way. And stupid..it's just so stupid.
I don't blame you for having a moment of joy at her unfortunate aging.
Life does seem to go around and around like this. You have the most interesting stories, Cathy. I always enjoy the glimpses into your world.
I get how important it is to look professional. But that kind of negativity, lewdness and hurtful behavior does come around. Kindness usually wins out in the end.
Ugh. One thought I had while reading this is how little we've come 30 years. Women are still dying -- literally -- to be a size 0. Something defiantly isn't working. Sorry for that woman. Sad really.
Great! Funny how life plays out sometimes
Karma, my friend. I love that picture of you. You are still groovy! xo
It's amazing what some people will say, in the end it says way more about them that it does about you. Needless to say I am so glad that you are happy and hope at some point she found her own way, she sounds like a wounded woman.
Love the photo of cute, adorable you! This reminds me of the two girls who were mean to me (and thought they were hot stuff) in grade school. Both never married and look old and haggard now (thanks Facebook!). Meow.
Hey Groovy Chick - I had that outfit too! It is amazing that people can cut us so deeply with words.... Perspective is everything, isn't?
Why do we want to hurt each other? I've never understood this because it is really about how we feel about ourselves.
I love your picture! What a smile. I often think that people who behave the way Miss Vulgarity did are jealous of the people that they pick on the most. What a sad life she must have led. When someone's main claim to fame is their physical appearance or sexuality then the natural changes as we age must really be devastating to them. Sad. (But you - you still have that wonderful smile!)
Oh, sometimes it's the women who can do the most damage to each other, isn't it? Glad you came out the other side.
People can be so terrible. But, as I'm sure you know now, someone like that is just knocking another person down to build herself up.
If it's any consolation, I've never had a waist either. And, it doesn't matter how much (or how little) I weigh. It's just the way it is. I've learned that men's jeans fit me better than women's jeans and, BONUS!, they usually cost less, too 🙂 So, there's always a silver lining --- even for the waistless 🙂
Love ya! J
Wow! I guess in the end karma comes back around. I'm shocked that she would have said that to you in the first place. I love the groovy look by the way!
Groovy clothes for sure! Man, I'm jealous you got to hang with the tennis stars. LOL. Love tennis!
And yes, it sounds like your work environment was a bit hostile. I'm sorry you had to deal with that!
I am so glad this blog turned out the way it did, because I was so sad for your younger self...I really wanted to hug her and tell her she would get married, have a great son and be an accomplished writer that touched so many. I am glad you didn't need me to do that.....
OUCH. I can imagine how much that must have hurt and embarrassed you. I wonder what ever happened to that woman that made her so mean and vulgar. I agree that the misfortunes of others shouldn't make us happy, but I must admit I was glad to read your happy ending, and that you were able to have that moment with her.
What an awful woman. That kind of comment would get her written up in today's workplace. Well, what goes around comes around. And she obviously got hers. LOVE the photo of you, cute Cathy!
which tennis player did you mean?
great article!