Sheryl Sandberg’s book, “Lean in: Women, Work, and the Will to Lead,” came out last March, and has won praise and ire ever since. Some love it for its call to ambition. Others take issue with its focus on internal barriers to women’s success rather than institutional ones. And a particularly vocal throng savage Sandberg herself–her privilege, her preternatural stores of energy and her presumption that her rich girl ways are relevant for the rest of us.
“Sheryl Sandberg is hazardous to women,” wrote Andrea Peyser in the New York Post during the book’s launch. “Those who follow Sheryl’s lead are bound to be disappointed–bitter, broke, unemployed, and perpetually single.”
“Sheryl, have you ever stopped to consider that all this ‘leaning in’ is ruining life for the rest of us?,” echoed Rosa Brooks a year later in a Washington Post piece, titled “Recline, don’t ‘Lean In’ (Why I hate Sheryl Sandberg).”
Me? I liked the book at first. I thought its recommendations were practical (if not revolutionary) and its author was clever and well intentioned.
But as the groundswell of haters rose, I gave “Lean In” a second read, and fell in love. Sandberg did what a first-time author should do: She announced a destination, stayed in her lane and arrived there without too many pit stops or detours. She observed a dearth of women in senior leadership in every industry, offered some straightforward explanations of why that’s happened and offered some advice to those who want to take some personal initiative to reverse the trend.
Folks who wanted a memoir, a self-help book or a career-management guide can be disappointed in what she delivered but they can’t claim to have been misled. Within ten pages, she announces that the book’s a “sort of feminist manifesto.” Manifestos are more declaration than detail, so it’s safe to assume that a “sort of” manifesto will be just as vague.
Even those who long for sock-it-to-The-Man invective about the institutional blockades to women’s advancement at work must acknowledge that Sandberg’s not qualified to tell that story (yet). If she came out of the gate with a book of concrete corporate or public policy recommendations for bringing gender parity to corporate America, she would have had about 300 readers and zero credibility.
I like to read books by people who know what they are talking about. Don’t you? Until Sandberg transforms Facebook into a model of diversity, equity and inclusion (which I hope she will), I don’t want to read 200 pages of fairy tales from her on that subject. She’s trying to launch a social movement from a corporate perch, but she’s no dummy. She’s an executive, not a scholar, and has wisely chosen to hammer away at an insidious social problem from a position of strength.
Publishing thoughts on how to thrive as a woman in business amid significant workplace discrimination and inflexibility is well within the billionaire executive’s authority. That’s a book with teeth, written by a master of the disarming corporate-ladder-climbing smile, and many ambitious women would do well to mark her words.
Her central premise is that women unintentionally hold themselves back in their careers, and that resonated with me. After reading “Lean In” the first time, I could clearly pinpoint critical junctures when I made choices about my work and my life without fully grasping their long-term consequences. And in many cases without even acknowledging that there was a choice at all.
I’m guilty as charged when it comes to making a slew of career-limiting choices. As soon as I got engaged, I narrowed job searches to cities near my then-fiance. Once married, I settled too quickly into a trailing-spouse mindset. After having a child, I became a maternal gatekeeper at home and hoarded household responsibilities.
Perhaps that’s why I had a positive but not effusive reaction to the book at first. I felt like it was too late for me to benefit from its wisdom. Forewarned is forearmed, but I’m in my 30s and already committed the missteps outlined in the “Don’t Leave Before You Leave” chapter. I had opted out of the traditional workforce so evidently that a local commission seeking my help wasn’t ashamed to list my title as “Shaka Smart’s wife” on its contact list. (Infuriated, I declined that inept invitation to serve.)
But on the second read, I focused less on the symptoms of leaning back and more on the characteristics of leaning in. I realized that though my career path has been far from traditional, it hasn’t exactly been laid back either. I’ve hopped from investment banking to PR, to journalism and entrepreneurship, to wifedom, to motherhood, to volunteering and philanthropy. Through the years, there have been periods of intense focus and great accomplishment despite the absence of a high-profile leadership role.
“Lean In”’s message is that such a jumble of activity is fine if that’s what you want, but if you actually want a top job you’ve got to be extremely intentional in its pursuit. Leading a country or a company (yes, Sandberg urges women to aim high) doesn’t happen by accident, given all of the social, cultural and even biological obstacles to staying fully committed to the workforce.
One personal takeaway is that in order to attain my biggest career dreams, given my particular circumstances, I have to make some tough choices about what I’m not going to do at all, what I’m not going to do well and how I am going to make those choices work for my family. I have to draw the lines. My work, volunteering and family will make endless demands on me, but I have to exert control and make conscious decisions about what I’m going to do, with what intensity and for how long.
Another idea I’ll carry with me is that if a top job is what I crave, I’m not just doing myself a disservice if I don’t go for it. I’m missing a huge opportunity to make the world a better place for women who don’t have the educational and economic opportunities that I have. “While women continue to outpace men in educational achievement, we have ceased making real progress at the top of any industry,” Sandberg noted in a Barnard College commencement address. “This means that when it comes to making the decisions that most affect our world, women’s voices are not heard equally.” I hear you.
The Sandberg haters like Brooks who say the book compels women to play Superwoman at home and at work clearly missed the chapters on “Making Your Partner a Real Partner” and “The Myth of Doing It All.” “Counterintuitively, long-term success at work often depends on not trying to meet every demand placed on us,” Sandberg argues. “The best way to make room for both life and career is to make choices deliberately–to set limits and stick to them.”
In short, each of us has to put our big girl panties on, define what we want and go for it, knowing there must be boundaries and there will be sacrifices. Unlike some disgruntled readers, I don’t expect Sheryl Sandberg (or anyone else for that matter) to write a field guide detailed enough to instruct me in the intricacies of managing my own personal life and career. Yet I appreciate the subjective examples and insights she offers. They reveal something universal about making one’s way in the world. Ultimately, it’s my job to author the details of my particular work and will to lead.
A year after the publication of the book that launched a thousand women’s support groups, a stock photography collection and a screenplay, I got it. I’m leaning in… my way.
I’m reminded of my dad as I watch the #banbossy and #bossyandproud hashtags fly on Twitter. He was committed to cultivating my leadership potential and I’m sure that if he were still alive, he would be on Team Bossy and Proud. More importantly, he would expect me to have my own opinion on the subject and to put forth a well-reasoned defense of my view, whether I agreed with him or not. He was that kind of a father–and lawyer.
Team Ban Bossy led by Sheryl Sandberg, Facebook COO and “Lean In” author, posits that the term “bossy” is disproportionately applied to girls and inhibits their leadership aspirations. Her BanBossy.com website, launched in conjunction with the Girl Scouts of the USA, offers tips and tools for fostering ambition in girls.
While the literal notion of outlawing the word “bossy” is absurd, the underlying call to be conscious and intentional in the labels we apply to ourselves and others is spot on. As the mother of a daughter, the spirit of the Ban Bossy campaign resonates with me. Upon hearing of it, I immediately (and only half jokingly) began referring to my 2-year-old’s incessant demands as “displays of executive leadership potential,” instead of something less complimentary. So, hat tip to Sandberg and the Girl Scouts for raising the issue of gender bias in a catchy enough way to engage the public.
Continue reading “Bossy: The Other B Word”If today, I follow death
go down its trackless wastes,
salt my tongue on hardened tears
for my precious dear times waste
race
along that promised cave in a headlong
deadlong
haste,
Will you
have
the
grace
to mourn for
me?
–Mourning Grace by Maya Angelou
Recently I was invited to address the Richmond Chapter of Executive Women International (EWI) at its annual scholarship dinner. I decided to use the opportunity to share some of my ideas about one of life’s most underutilized power tools: storytelling.
I thought a “What’s Your Story?” theme could speak compellingly to both the businesswomen of EWI and their young college-bound scholarship recipients. I mentioned Maya Angelou (storyteller extraordinaire) during my remarks, not knowing that she was on her deathbed and would pass away soon thereafter.
In retrospect, I can imagine no better way to honor her, a preeminent interpreter of the human experience, than encouraging people to tell their own stories.
Continue reading “The Power of Story”Sometimes a book just beckons you. It calls you to pluck it from the shelves, even when what lies between the covers isn’t your slice of Brie. Months ago at Barnes & Noble, I glimpsed a pile of Kate Gosselin’s “Love Is in the Mix: Making Meals into Memories with Family-Friendly Recipes, Tips and Traditions.” The glossy hard cover–designed to endure cooking splatters and grubby kids’ hands, I presume–reeled me in. I had to have it.
Seeing the reality TV starlet surrounded by her eight smiling kids struck the mama chord with me and made me want to buy. My subconscious seemed to be saying, I don’t care how fake the smiles or how crappy the recipes, I am going to buy this book so this single mom of eight (of eight!) can get 50 more cents in her quarterly royalty check.
I skipped my typical close reading of the front and back covers, table of contents and introduction. I knew, without flipping a page, what I was getting. Sure enough, the collection proved to catalog some of the most humdrum recipes known to the American kitchen.
But that’s the beauty of the book and its author. They make no apologies. One “recipe” calls for making two boxes of store-bought macaroni and cheese according to the package instructions and then dumping in a bag of frozen peas and two cans of white albacore tuna. I doubt that even the accompanying anecdote, revealing that this is the kids’ “all-time favorite,” could redeem it for many cookbook readers, but I appreciate its practicality and lack of pretense.
Alicia Silverstone’s “The Kind Diet,” this is not. “Love Is in the Mix” is a real slice-of-life cookbook. I buy it 100%. I believe this mother of many who packs 40 lunches a week actually cooks this fanless fare on the regular. What else could she possibly do with nine mouths to feed? Of course, she’s cooking Memorable Pizza Meatballs, Kate’s Fish in Paper, Happy Face Hash Brown Casserole and “Sorta Healthy” Cereal Treats.
The cookbook gives all of us in the I-Don’t-Know-How-She-Does-It Club yet another voyeuristic view into her bulk-sized household–albeit without the husband drama this time around. I had no intention of ever actually cooking anything from it, but last night, in a fit of mommydarity, it beckoned me again. I found myself flipping through the pages, looking for something that would pass muster with my husband and daughter. Later that night, I served up some Gosselin-inspired herbed chicken with steamed broccoli and brown rice. It was a hit.
Taste-wise, the bird was just okay, but as I stood over the stove, which has been a rare occurrence the last few months, something special happened in our kitchen. The very act of home cooking–browning the chicken; sautéing shallots; mixing wine, stock and garlic; whisking half-and-half and mustard–can elevate even average food to an experience to be savored. My husband’s work-related text messages seemed to lose some of their urgency amid the sizzle and aroma of pan sauce thickening on the range. He settled into a chair, gave his phone a rest, inquired about my day. I need to cook more often, I thought. My curious toddler edged near the stove, too short to peer into the pan. Can I help you, mommy? I handed her some placemats to shuttle to the table.
“Nothing that comes from the kitchen is a mistake when you add love to the mix,” Gosselin wrote. One Creamy “Herbie” Chicken later, I concur. This was originally published on Book Riot. See Gosselin’s meal prep in action when a new Kate Plus 8 special airs June 25, 2014 on TLC.
The most magnificent drama in the last thousand years of human history is the transportation of ten million human beings out of the dark beauty of their mother continent into the new-found El Dorado of the West. They descended into Hell; and in the third century they arose from the dead, in the finest effort to achieve democracy for the working millions which this world had ever seen. It was a tragedy that beggared the Greek; it was an upheaval of humanity like the Reformation and the French Revolution.”
–W.E.B. Du Bois, Black Reconstruction in America, 1860-1880
“Posing Beauty in African American Culture,” a photographic history of black beauty, starts with the 1890s, after the period Du Bois describes. But it speaks to the same issues of ascendance from the unconscionable depths of slavery–how black people, a nation within a nation, assert themselves in American culture and make a way forward. How we insist upon our own subjectivity–in this case, literally, while posing for photographs. How we stake claim to our beauty–and our humanity.
To be seen as beautiful is to possess a certain power. To be seen at all is a triumph for a people who’ve survived a centuries-long assault on their freedom, character and culture. NYU professor Deborah Willis, who curated the exhibition and a book of the same name, makes a powerful contribution to art and to history by tracing the rise to freedom in the faces of so many black men and women, known and unknown, bygone and current.
Collectively, the images powerfully display a multifaceted black America that’s all too often rendered invisible or seen as a monolith. “Posing Beauty” presents shades of time and place, circumstance and culture, color and class that distinguish black people. It offers a fascinating look at individual faces, gazes and postures that together point to the profuse diversity and resilience of the black community.
Continue reading “Posing Beauty”Are you an elite competitor in the Busyness Games? Do you find new and creative ways to divide your time and attention? If so, then “Overwhelmed” is a must-read. It methodically reveals the tangle of unrealistic personal expectations, social pressure, and workplace inflexibility that conspire to push modern American schedules to the brink.
The book documents how, toward the end of the 20th century, busyness took on a kind of alluring high social status, distinct from previous eras. “What changed is the cultural imperative not just to have it all, but to fit it all in on the fast track, packing in a multitude of work, activities, and obligations until life feels, as one researcher put it, like an exhausting ‘everydayathon,’” Schulte writes.
It also illuminates one additional barrier to down time for women–the complete and utter lack of historical precedent for it. “Understand that, for women, there never has been a history or culture of leisure or play, unless you consider sweeping, making cheese, churning butter, quilting, and knitting your kind of fun,” she writes.
And these aren’t just the superficial observations of a harried author-mom. They are the considered conclusions of Schulte’s journalistic enterprise–the synthesis of countless in-depth interviews with time-use researchers, sociologists, neuroscientists, futurists, social psychologists, labor economists, legal scholars and more. Schulte gets kudos for living a scattered, frenzied, exhausting life and making the time to research an antidote to crazy-busy–for us and herself.
One of her findings is that we feel more time-starved than we actually are. We exaggerate how much we work–and how much we need to work to do well. We fail to recognize the leisure opportunities we have, allocating the time to less fulfilling (and sustainable) activity instead. We’ve fractured, fragmented and contaminated our time beyond reason–and at great personal and societal cost. And we’ve done so because of fundamental misunderstandings about leisure and its value for everything from personal life quality to national defense. (Yes, it’s that serious.)
I’ve made a couple of specific behavioral changes as a direct result of reading this book:
Time Tracking: I was intrigued by the work of the many time-use researchers that Schulte cites and began maintaining my own time diary to gain insight into how I spend my days. I use Toggl, time tracking software available online or via mobile app, and simply type what I’m doing, what project it’s associated with, and hit a start button. Later, I hit stop when I’m done and voila–a record of how my time was spent. After timing several tasks over several days, I’ve now got a bunch of data that I can analyze to get a feel for how efficiently–or not–I’m using my time.
Thoughtful Unitasking: Toggl’s simple interface asks, “What are you doing?” As a result, I’ve gotten into the habit of pausing frequently to ponder that question: “What are you doing, Maya?” This helps me hone in on what I really want to accomplish in a particular time frame.
For example, I used to beat myself up about spending too much time in my email inbox. But by asking myself, what are you doing?, I realized I’m not whiling away the days in useless conversation with whoever happens to write me, as I suspected before. Often, I’m doing important work in my inbox, and it’s affirming to pause and consider exactly what that work is. I might be reading messages that directly relate to my core projects. I could be drafting responses that drive the agendas for upcoming meetings in thoughtful directions. I may be connecting great people to one another.
So rather than having a vague sense that I spend too much time on email, I now look at the substance of my activity in the moment and discern when I’m wasting time (needless communication) and when I’m doing my thing (advancing causes and projects I care about). More often than not, I’m doing my thing and it gives me a little energy boost to acknowledge it.
After reading “Overwhelmed,” considering its arguments and applying some of its lessons, I have great clarity about where I spend my time and why. Moreover, I have a new awareness of my power to choose differently and an urgency about doing so. The role overload and task density that plague so many of us felt very optional after reading the book. It bolstered my resolve to relentlessly decline unwanted projects, activities and invitations so I can focus on the vital few. I hope it can do the same for you. Life’s too short to waste being busy when you could be effective instead.
If you only read one happiness book, let this be the one. Written by a serious psychological researcher, “The How of Happiness” eschews the usual laundry list of quick fixes and instead offers a unified theory of sustainable happiness, backed by empirical evidence and sound reasoning.
Beyond the research, Lyubomirsky offers important reassurance that working to increase one’s happiness is a vital, momentous endeavor. Happiness, as she defines it, is no shallow pursuit. Rather, it’s the intentional construction of “the experience of joy, contentment or positive well-being, combined with a sense that one’s life is good, meaningful and worthwhile.” And its benefits are many. Happy people are more energetic, sociable, charitable and healthy. They live longer, work smarter and lead better.
We should scarcely need to be reminded of joy’s virtues when hopelessness and despondency are so prevalent in our society. Major depression is the leading cause of disability for 15- to 44-year-olds in this country, according to the CDC. And many more people who aren’t clinically depressed fall short of experiencing the happiness in life that’s available to them, hurt by unrealistic personal expectations, weighty feelings of self-blame and diminished social support.
Openly advocating for happiness–our own and others’–is important work. And Lyubormirsky compiles extensive research to show that increasing feelings of well-being is within our grasp. Intentional daily activity–happiness work, if you will–can make a difference. “If we observe genuinely happy people, we shall find that they do not just sit around being contented,” she writes. “They make things happen. They pursue new understandings, seek new achievements, and control their thoughts and feelings.”
A Customized Approach
The book’s conscientious scientific perspective and straightforward advice can feel a bit too tidy and clinical in places, but what it lacks in emotional power and messy personal narrative, it makes up for in practicality and effectiveness. It offers powerful assessment tools: happiness scale, person-activity fit diagnostics and happiness questionnaire. Together, they help readers assess their current happiness level and fashion individualized happiness programs. Thus equipped, committed glee seekers can animate the science and create their own personal stories of joyful living.
This customization is key. While most self-help books throw out a slew of one-size-fits-all suggestions, Lyubomirsky cites research revealing that individuals benefit from some strategies more than others based on their own unique needs, interests, values, resources and inclinations. Moreover, the book includes a self-diagnostic test that systematically determines which of 12 “happiness activities” would be most valuable for the reader.
Fit is key: “…if there’s any ‘secret’ to becoming happier, the secret is in establishing which happiness strategies suit you best,” she writes. “One of the chief reasons that many of us fail in our efforts to become happier is unfortunate choosing, picking a strategy or approach that is either inherently fruitless (like pursuing wealth, approval, or beauty…) or not well suited to us.”
Circumstance changes don’t boost happiness long term because humans adapt to the improvements so quickly, she explains. The raise, the bigger house, the new car quickly become a new normal and no longer boost happiness. Moreover, such changes can’t create sustained happiness for many people because they are impractical — impossible often — to obtain in the first place. “Does everyone have the money, resources, or time to change her living situation, her job, her spouse, her physical appearance?” she asks.
Click to Tweet: “…if there’s any ‘secret’ to becoming happier, the secret is in establishing which happiness strategies suit you best.”
Takeaways
I loved the person-activity fit diagnostic because it helped me break out of the shoulds and ought-tos to discern what’s actually likely to help me increase happiness. Happiness, I learned, is (like everything else in life) built on selectivity. As Arthur Ashe wrote, “Don’t try to do everything. Choose carefully, and then give your all to what you choose.” In essence, the results gave me permission to do more of what I love–getting into a state of flow through engaging activities like reading and writing–and less of activities that don’t come as naturally to me. Choosing the wrong “happiness activity” or implementing the right one the wrong way can doom the whole enterprise.
“The How of Happiness” offers 12 of these happiness activities, none of which is earth shattering on its surface. But the book stands out for its systematic process to select which will work for you, explanation of why they work and nitty gritty descriptions of exactly how (and how often) to implement the practices. For example, she explains that expressing gratitude boosts happiness by promoting the savoring of positive life experiences, building self-worth and self-esteem, helping people cope with stress, encouraging moral behavior, building social bonds and more. Then she offers several ideas for practicing gratitude and urges readers who resonate with the practice to select just one — say, writing in a gratitude journal — and then vary how they implement it. So, rather than journaling daily about what you are grateful for, which could become a chore and minimize the benefits, she suggests expressing gratitude after particular triggers, such as enduring a hardship. This call to variety is grounded in research, as are the strategies and supporting practices, which bolsters confidence that it will actually work.
It’s too soon for me to know if the happiness boosts I’ve experienced from reading the book and implementing its tailored suggestions will last long-term. But consider this review to be my heartfelt expression of gratitude to Lyubormirsky for providing much-needed perspective on the whys–and hows–of happiness. The revelation that we’re conditioned to believe the wrong things (money, recognition, appearance, etc.) will make us lastingly happy was alone worth the jacket price.
Part-memoir, part-playbook, Senator Kirsten Gillibrand’s “Off the Sidelines: Raise Your Voice, Change the World” is a refreshingly practical addition to the women’s empowerment shelf, especially for women who aspire to public service. True to mission, the book even ends with a note that the women’s congressional softball team could use another starting pitcher. She’s talking to you, dear reader. Get in the game!
The book chronicles the life of an extraordinarily accomplished woman leader, but studiously conveys warmth and accessibility with folksy “Hey, I have fat jeans, too!” anecdotes. (Yes, the senator actually uses those exact words in the book.) But don’t mistake the tone for a lack of seriousness about the mission. It’s part of her strategy for convincing readers that leadership isn’t reserved for “special” people.
She issues us all an invitation to get off the sidelines and take seriously our moral obligation to participate in the political conversations surrounding issues that we care deeply about. Yes, even you. She argues that voting, advocacy, and even candidacy are powerful paths to progress. If we–the people affected most by issues–don’t act, who will? “We need a Rosie the Riveter for this generation–not to draw women into professional life, because they are already there, but to elevate women’s voices in the public sphere and bring women more fully into making the decisions that shape our country,” she writes.
And when she speaks of women, she’s speaking of all women, not just a privileged subset. “I’m angry and I’m depressed, and I’m scared that the women’s movement is dead, or at least on life support,” she writes. “Women talk a lot these days about shattering the glass ceiling, but we also need to focus on cleaning the so-called sticky floor, making sure all women have a chance to rise.”
(The book doesn’t delve into policy details, but the accompanying website offthesidelines.org sets out her opportunity plan for empowering women and families to rise in the 21st-century economy. It centers on paid family and medical leave, raising the minimum wage, quality affordable childcare, universal pre-k and equal pay for equal work.)
Click to Tweet: “We need to focus on cleaning the so-called sticky floor, making sure all women have a chance to rise.” @SenGillibrand
Whatever your policy positions, the book presents a warmer and fuzzier view of politics than typical media accounts. In Gillibrand land, leadership isn’t so much about savvy political and workplace maneuvering, but about the much more appealing work of listening to people, caring about them, and marshalling your unique, personal resources to respond.
She uses examples from her legislative work on the 9/11 healthcare bill and seeking justice for survivors of sexual assault in the military to emphasize storytelling as a legitimate and powerful tool of persuasion. “You can drop a dozen binders full of white papers on my desk, and the stack won’t be as effective as a single human being willing to speak honestly about her life,” she writes.
In the spirit of truth-telling, Gillibrand’s call to leadership isn’t all smiles and roses. She allows that political candidacy and service are a grind, requiring straight-up hard work and persistence despite the odds, which range from personal foibles to nasty political opposition.
She recounts her successes but doesn’t skip over the failures and foundering that preceded and, in some cases, facilitated later wins. It wasn’t so long ago, readers learn, that she couldn’t get hired at the U.S. Attorney’s office or a full-time job on Hillary Clinton’s campaign. And even as a rookie congresswoman she was prone to embarrassing missteps, like crashing one of Senator Patrick Leahy’s fundraisers to hand him a draft of her bill. But she persevered and, she contends, you can too.
Beyond the politics, one of the best aspects of the book is her transparency about how she spends her time. She is open about how hard it has been to learn to embrace her limits and schedule time for food, bathroom breaks and traffic delays, let alone friendship, relaxation and fun.
Where other high-profile women leaders have been purposely vague on their daily schedules and child care habits, Gillibrand puts it all out there. She recounts what time she rises, when she goes to sleep, how much time she spends with her sons (2-3 hours/day, if you’re wondering), and how much she’s in the office. She tells the costs of trading the congressional cocktail-party circuit for a bath-books-bed routine with her sons. Moreover, she shares some of the ways staff, sitters, friends, family and even parents of her kids’ friends help her meld public service and the “absurdist sitcom” of her family life. It takes a village, apparently.
I appreciated her candor and gleaned some lessons from her day-to-day life management techniques. She exercises first thing after taking the kids to school and trains her staff to protect that personal time. She consumes 1,200 calories a day–fruits, vegetables, whole grains, lean meats and fish. She tracks constituent issues on index cards and uses 10-point lists for everything from planning a wedding to passing a bill.
The particulars are unlikely to work for any of us, but it’s reassuring to see that even U.S. senators make it through the day with an idiosyncratic mix of habits and routines. She’s got a big title, a huge constituency, and a staff, but her biggest challenge is managing herself–keeping the big-picture goals alive amid the minutiae of daily life. How human!
A quick read, “#GIRLBOSS” aims to inspire by sharing lessons of Sophia Amoruso’s meteoric rise from anarchist “freegan” wanderer to founding CEO of the Nasty Gal clothing company. “In the same way that for the past seven years people have projected themselves into the looks I’ve sold through Nasty Gal, I want you to be able to use #GIRLBOSS to project yourself into an awesome life where you can do whatever you want,” she writes.
This leap from identifying with an outfit to creating a life is not as ridiculous as it sounds. Amoruso built a multimillion-dollar retail company from a humble Ebay store, so she’s likely to have a helpful tip or two for would-be moguls. In fact, for its target reader (who I imagine is a 20-something woman with a penchant for Nasty Gal vegan leather turbans) the anyone-can-do-it tone may have as much motivational impact as the details of her counsel. I’m sure her calls to “race balls-out toward the extraordinary life that you’ve always dreamed of” will resonate with some millennials. Moreover, the substance of her story gives women of all ages a window into the incredible power of self-confidence, customer focus and hard work.
For the degreed and pedigreed who often accumulate credentials at the expense of down-in-the-trenches experience, it’s illuminating to see how far straight-up work ethic can get you. With no college degree or extensive work experience, Amoruso cut her teeth at home in a ratty pink bathrobe coordinating models, “friending” people, editing photos, uploading files, writing sales copy and primitive HTML, and packing and shipping boxes, only breaking to hunt vintage store racks for merchandise to resell.
From the outset, Amoruso focused her company on giving a particular demographic of women the waist and hip accentuating styles they desired. She filled her fledgling company with the independent spirit of Betty Davis’s Nasty-Gal ‘70s funk album, which exudes sexuality. The original Nasty-Gal rocked platform heels, fishnets and lingerie, long before Beyonce spawned Bejeweled Leotard Feminism.
But make no mistake, any hints of feminism are beside the point in Amoruso’s account. As she puts it, “#GIRLBOSS is a feminist book, and Nasty Gal is a feminist company in the sense that I encourage you, as a girl, to be who you want and do what you want. But I’m not here calling us ‘womyn’ and blaming men for any of my struggles… I believe that the best way to honor the past and future of women’s rights is by getting shit done.” Um. Okay.
Deconstructing that statement would require another 1,000 words, so let me say just this: Feminist or not, the book offers a compelling example of a woman who forged her own path without getting sidetracked by paralyzing ambivalence, second guesses or unrealistic expectations of “having it all.” Rather, she made her own choices and lived with them–unapologetically.
She may have hit the big-time, but Amoruso still obsesses over giving women the profile they covet. In the book, she describes the photo editing process she’s used since launching the company in 2006. To this day she shrinks photos down to thumbnail size, crosses her eyes, and then flags images that stand out through the blur. “This allows me to edit quickly without getting distracted by the details–if the composition or silhouette sucks, it doesn’t matter what the model’s face says,” she writes. “The DNA of a successful image, and brand, must be encrypted into its tiniest representation while gracefully telling the same story in its largest incarnation. My thumbnail photos were the postage stamps to Nasty Gal’s success.”
Talk about projecting yourself into a look and into a life. Her Photoshop revelation is impressive in two respects. One, Amoruso’s still editing photos for the site after all these years, to stay in touch with what sells. And, secondly, it clearly illustrates how the fundamentals don’t change. No matter how big your business gets, success requires staying focused and consistently delivering what the customer wants. It seems that a successful brand, like a successful life, is in the little things.
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