FOF friend D and  I were discussing a mutual male acquaintance who has a vile reputation with strong, smart women. They threaten him.

This man has a big job with a big company, but he isn’t especially talented and he prefers to surround himself at work with really vulnerable women. They’re so grateful he’s given them a job, they practically quake in his presence.

This man often makes sexual comments to women and acts like Mr. Macho, although he’s anything but macho.  ”He stood in my way when we worked together,” said D, a uber succcessful woman. “He’s disgusting.”

God knows why, but I used to defend him until he showed his true colors to me, too. Fortunately, men like this are dwindling away and we are seeing more women in positions of authority and influence.

Strong FOF women have paved the way for our daughters and showed our sons we can be the boss.

I love men (well, many of them)  but I think women are the smartest creatures on the planet who can run any show, any time.  And the sooner all men realize this, the better off we’ll all be.

Story #1

Debbie, a high school classmate, had a prominent nose.  She was a slight girl, which made her nose even more pronounced.  She was very smart, as I remember, but I think she was extremely self-conscious. She’d walk around with her loose-leaf books and notes held up close to her face, as if she wanted to hide her nose. She was quiet. People made fun of her. We weren’t close friends, but I liked her.

When we returned from Christmas vacation during our sophomore year, Debbie was a new person, literally and figuratively. She had a nose job and she looked beautiful, really beautiful.  She no longer held her books up high. She also became a snob.  I guess you could say she “held her nose in the air.”  She probably resented all the kids who had derided her. I liked her better with her old nose.

I think Debbie went to one of the Seven Sister schools.  I lost track of her after we graduated.

Story #2

My mother, May, had a prominent nose. She was fond of telling us that when she was about twenty, her mother (grandma Rose) gave her a choice: Have a nose job or a get a fur coat. Mom didn’t hesitate. She chose the fur coat.

Mamma May was not the least bit self-conscious about her looks. She was outgoing and secure. Even when she was 86, she would brag about getting kisses from the security guards at the Y, where she attended a Sixty Plus program. I don’t believe a nose job would have changed her one iota. She met a handsome man, my dad, who loved every bit of her and she led a happy, content life.

Moral of the Stories

I am not against nose jobs, or any other types of cosmetic work. To each her own, I say.  My big question is, does changing our looks on the outside change how we feel about ourselves on the inside?  I don’t think so. When I was 41, I lost 50 pounds and couldn’t stop buying new size 8 clothes. I pranced around like a peacock, but guess what, thinner Geri didn’t mean happier Geri. I’m heavier now, but worlds happier.  I wouldn’t mind losing 20 pounds, but I’ll take being “lighter” on the inside any day.

If Debbie wound up half as happy as May, she’s a lucky girl, with or without a beautiful, small nose.

Nicole and Adam

David and I went to my sister Shelley’s in Staten Island today for a July 5th barbecue to celebrate my nephew Adam’s 33 birthday.  Adam’s girlfriend, Nicole, was there, too. She just graduated from college and will begin working tomorrow for The Trump Organization as assistant manager of the Trump Store in Trump Towers (that’s a lot of Trumps!)

Two weeks ago, right after Nicole moved in with Adam, he told her to put on a suit, go to Manhattan and distribute her resumes to all the upscale shops on Madison Avenue. Nicole did as instructed, and within days, she had multiple interviews lined up, followed by multiple job offers.

It is exciting to see a beautiful young woman embarking on a career. I remember my job hunt a gazillion years ago and my first job offer as an editorial assistant at Where Magazine (which still exists, by the way). “Your salary will be $100 a week,” Miss Allen told me. “Can I get $105? I am getting married in a few months,” I asked.  Miss Allen readily agreed to my request. I walked out of the building on cloud nine. I got a job! I ran across the street to a restaurant called Schrafft’s and called my father to tell him the good news.

I am now thinking about the course of my working life; the bosses I loved and despised, the things that came easy and those that didn’t come at all; the employees who exasperated me and the ones who wished I’d disappear. I wouldn’t want to go back to the beginning at all, and even if I could, I would do it all the same way, including the mistakes. I ‘m not done yet and I can’t wait to see what the next years will bring.

I wish Nicole, and every other young woman, great success in their careers. Women have made great strides since the day I called my dad with news of my job offer. I have no doubt that they will continue to forge ahead, as only women can do.