Confidence is Key

Not long ago, a new girl (I say girl, and not woman for specific reasons- see below) joined our firm and began sitting on my floor. She is a quintessential shlumpadinka (thanks to the source of that word- you know who you are) who consistently wears extremely unflattering clothes, man shoes, doesn't bother to do more than run a brush through her hair, doesn't wear makeup, and is considerably overweight. I can think of many TLC driven shows that would be keenly interested.

Why is this relevant, do you ask? Why does this girl- whose name I don't even know- bother me? How can I think such profoundly nasty things about someone I don't even know? I cringe every time I have to pass her. There was one occasion not too long ago, where she was wearing one of her blah white button-up shirts oh so cruelly tucked into her tummy flab and high waist pants that her entire right breast was hanging out of because she needed serious help from some double-sided sticky tape- and I was prepared to march her down to Saks to get it...alone with a few other essentials.

I realized recently that I hate to look at her (it pains me to look at her) because I was her. I'm not talking about me a year or two years ago when I was at my highest weight ever (but still dressed very well, thank you), but more like 10. This "girl" of perhaps 27 or 28 was me in high school. I say this because I don't get the sense that she's rebelling or turning down the "man" by dressing or lacking accessories the way she does, but that she 1. doesn't have a clue how she is presenting herself to the world and/or 2. lacks self-confidence and gave up trying (perhaps).

I recently watched an old French class VHS of me circa 1994. The hideous glasses, the tucked in t-shirt that had nothing to do with what the styles of the times were, the flat hair that I barely made effort to blow dry and brush, the lack of any makeup, the fact that I spent so much time looking towards the ground it's a wonder I didn't realize how ugly my shoes were....cringeworthy. Oh, and I did cringe. Jesus...I was Ugly Betty, without the confidence she carries or the trendy cable ratings.

When I had lunch with the friend who I made the tape with not long ago, we talked about how we had changed since high school. For her part, she's lost about 40 lbs and 6 sizes; and as for me, I gained a style (I like to think), and a confident sense of myself that I couldn't have begun to conceptualize back then. Life was just too shitty.

I don't know if this new girl on my floor is depressed or doesn't care, or just plain too tired at the end of the day to do more. I also couldn't ever attempt to intervene because it would be inappropriate and rude. But I'd like to. I like to think that makes up for some of the cruel thoughts I have about her appearance. I don't want to make her like me, but I could see me swooping in like the "what not to wear" guru's and turning her into a stunning reflection.

Perhaps I'm wrong. Perhaps she's totally comfortable and confident with herself and how she looks. Perhaps I'm a nasty bitch for this entire rant. Then again, if I'm right she could probably use some guidance and a lunch friend. Maybe I'll even have time to try that before I leave this place for good.