Why Good Girls Don't Get Ahead... But Gutsy Girls Do (26 page)

7. A Gutsy Girl Faces Trouble Head-On

As I said in Chapter 9, it took me a long time to realize that everyone at work is a
potential
sabatoeur. It took me even longer to realize that the same holds true when you're going after a position in a new area or company.

You are far less likely to suspect these saboteurs because you hardly know them. Often, they end up sandbagging you not because they have anything against you personally, but because they are simply unreliable or ignorant—or maybe they're just busybodies. Some of these hidden-saboteur situations may be:

•  The human resources person whom you've talked to about wanting to explore options in another department tells your boss what you're up to.

•  Someone at the outside company you're applying to mentions to several people in the industry that you're interviewing there.

•  One of the references you've given offers a mediocre evaluation of you.

•  A headhunter who doesn't appreciate your value blocks you from becoming a candidate.

•  An acquaintance at the company you're interviewing with hurts your candidacy with “inside” information. (i.e., “She's thinking of starting a family.”)

•  After you leave a company, people at your old job rewrite history and paint you as weak in several areas, and their remarks work their way back to your new boss.

What can you do about these kinds of sabotage? Because they're likely to happen out of your range of view, your best course of action is prevention:

•  Tell as few people as possible about your plans—and never tell a peer who might consider herself a rival.

•  Never call someone and simply warn her that you're using her as a reference. Ask if she feels comfortable with the idea. If she seems at all hesitant, don't use her.

•  Keep in mind that though there are many discreet people in human resources, anything you
say could
be used against you.

8. A Gutsy Girl Trusts Her Instincts

A golden gut is an essential tool when you're making a career move. With such an overload of factors influencing your decision, you need something to act as your compass. And yet if you're a good girl, you can count on the fact that your gut will experience interference from the usual circuit jammers: a need for consensus, worrying over what other people will think, a reluctance to see the negative.

You need to do your homework and then
feel
your way. When I was offered the job as senior editor of
Family Weekly,
I had a strong inkling that though the magazine was just a newspaper supplement, two notches up from those freestanding inserts with coupons for Tide and double fudge brownies, it would be terrific experience for me. I'd be editing stones on politics, national affairs, and celebrities, an experience I'd never had at
Glamour.
And yet when I told several people about the job offer, they looked horrified. “Why would you want to work there?” they asked. I started worrying that once I got there, it would be impossible to use it as a stepping-stone to a position at a classy magazine.

So I did some homework. What I learned when checking around about
Family Weekly
was that someone who'd held the position I was being offered had gone on to a terrific job at another magazine. That was at least one indicator that I wouldn't be trapped in Sunday supplement hell. When you're researehing, take heed of anything you find yourself rationalizing or dismissing—for instance, the interviewer is a little fuzzy about how you fit into the chain of command, and you hear yourself mentally saying. I'm sure it'll get sorted out once I get there.

Then let your gut take over. When I met the editor-in-chief of
Family Weekly,
I found him to be extraordinarily smart and charismatic, and I had this sense that not only would it be great fun to work for him, but that his classiness would compensate for any that the magazine lacked. And it did.

And one more thing. Just as people have body language that's essential to watch, so do companies. Frazzled secretaries, sourpusses, an ambience that doesn't reflect a consistent mission are all signs of what's really going on.

9. A Gutsy Girl Takes Smart Risks

Just leaving the safe haven of your current job for a new position out there in the big bad world can seem like a major risk, and that can convince you that you've fulfilled your risk quota. New job, new company, new staff, new boss—that's plenty to contend with. But you have to be willing to live more dangerously than that if you want to get the maximum out of changing jobs.

First of all, I think that wherever possible you should try to do a double career jump. What's the next logical position on the ladder for you? Instead of automatically trying to go after that one, consider the rung
above
it. Remember how men learn to think of a risky new situation as a stretch rather than being in over their heads? You need to have the same mindset. Of course, you certainly don't want to mislead anyone about your abilities. But you may be able to end up with a fancier title and more responsibility by going to a smaller company rather than a larger one, a newer one rather than a more established, conservative one.

You also have to be willing to gamble as you pursue a potential position. The first writing job I had at
Glamour
was as a promotion copywriter, which was not really the kind of writing I wanted to do—my dream was to write features for the magazine. In an attempt to get noticed, I started writing short pieces for one of the front-of-the-book editors (my first was a groundbreaking item called “Bridesmaids Dresses You Really
Can
Wear Again”). One day the managing editor asked me if I wanted to take on a more substantial assignment, one they couldn't picture giving to any of the normal people in the features department: She wanted me to spend a day as a guest clown with Ringling Brothers Circus and write about my experience.

Why me? Because she said I was a ham. What she didn't realize was that I was very shy and the idea of performing at Madison Square Garden held as much appeal for me as riding down Second Avenue naked on a skateboard. But I did it, hoping it would be my ticket out of promotion writing. I put on a silly outfit and made little kids cry in the bleachers and did a dopey routine with bad timing, trying not to step in any elephant dung—all the while feeling excruciatingly self-conscious. But you know what? After I handed in the piece, the editor-in-chief offered me a job in the articles department.

Whether you're pursuing a new job or being courted for one, you need to always ask yourself if you're going as far as you should to get their attention, stand out from the pack, leave them with the impression that they can't live without you.

One of my favorite stones: When Pulitzer Prize-winning columnist Anna Quindlen wanted to get hired out of college by the
New York Post,
she followed up her interview with a note in “kidnapped”-style lettering that said,
HIRE ANNA QUINDLEN OR YOU SWIM WITH THE FISHES.

HOW TO ALWAYS BE A GUTSY GIRL

I wish I could end this book by announcing, “Once a gutsy girl, always a gutsy girl.” But that isn't necessarily the case. If you've lived your life as a gutsy girl, it's not likely that anything will change you, but if you are a
new
gutsy girl, in other words a reformed good girl, it's more than likely that you'll find your good-girl instincts taking over from time to time. It reminds me of those tiny sponges shaped as dinosaurs that increase ten times their size the minute you toss them into water. There are certain conditions and settings that simply activate your need to please, to play it safe, to shrink from the limelight, to buff a project to death. It may be when you're under stress or when you're in a brand-new work environment or when the psychodynamics of your work setting make you unnecessarily begin to doubt yourself.

That's why as a new gutsy girl you must be vigilant, making certain that you don't fall back into good-girl behavior. Here's what I've found is helpful for me.

Ask Yourself at the End of Each Day, “Did I Do Anything to Break the Law Today?”

Even once you discover the rewards of rule breaking, it's easy to get out of the habit of doing it. In most work environments you find yourself lured into a routine of taking care of business and maintaining the status quo. It's important to reflect on your behavior regularly and be sure you haven't slipped back into being a Goody Two-Shoes.

One great way to slay active as a renegade is to allow yourself to be inspired by other people's rule breaking—it certainly beats being green with envy. I learned a profound lesson in this during my late twenties, just after I left
Glamour
magazine to seek my fortune elsewhere.

My years at
Glamour
had been terrific, but I had gotten off to a bumpy start. When I went to my first interview with Personnel, I was too embarrassed to admit that I wanted to be a writer (Good Girl Syndrome in overdrive). I mentioned that I'd just spent four months working as a coordinator in an election, and I was swiftly placed as an editorial assistant in the merchandising department. My main responsibility was assisting the merchandising editors in putting on fashion shows in the
Glamour
showroom, which meant that I arranged the chairs, set up the cookies and coffee, and washed—yes washed—the dishes afterwards. I was miserable beyond belief. One day the promotion director of
Glamour,
who worked several offices away, pulled me aside in the hallway. She was about sixty and very eccentric: She wore mostly fake-fur vests and wide pants, carried a cigarette holder, and often called out instructions to her staff as they trailed behind her like poodles. She had never said more than two words to me, so I assumed she was about to complain that I brewed the coffee too strong or wasn't putting out enough petite madeleines on the platter. But instead she said, “I hear you want to be a writer. Why don't you come and work for me? I can't believe we have a
Glamour
college winner washing dishes.”

Her name was Katie Gravett, and not only did she save my dishpan hands, but she was a fabulous boss who inspired me every step of the way. There was an aura about her that seemed left over from another era of magazine publishing. She'd known Condé Nast, the great publisher of
Vanity Fair magazine,
and there were photographs in her office of her at El Morocco, with the telltale zebra-print banquettes in the background. Though her basic responsibilities were simply to put on special events and create selling brochures for the advertising salespeople, she ran her department as if she was an empress and everyone treated her that way.

I worked for about six months as her assistant and then she made me one of her promotion copywriters. But she knew what I really wanted to do was write for the magazine and she was thrilled when I finally got offered a position in the feature department. We had lunch regularly, growing to be friends. When I decided, after six years, to leave
Glamour,
she was one of the first people I told.

A short time after I got settled at my new job, Katie and I had lunch at a fancy midtown Chinese restaurant, and to my astonishment she told me she was retiring from
Glamour
and moving with her husband to Rockport, Massachusetts, where she had discovered a wonderful house she hoped to buy. Granted, she was entitled to retire, but I, and everyone else, just assumed she'd be at
Glamour
until the absolute last moment. And then she said the thing that had such a profound effect on me. She told me that she had decided to leave
Glamour
partly because I had left. My departure had come as a surprise to her, she said, and it had inspired her to reflect on her own life and recognize that it was time for change. When she opened her fortune cookie at the end of the meal, it said,
YOU WILL SOON LIVE IN A NEW HOME.

It was a little scary for me to consider that at twenty-eight I'd had such a major influence on someone's life choice, but since then I have used the lesson Katie taught me on many occasions. Rather than allowing other people's triumphs and turning points to make you envious or depressed, use them as a call to action.

Think About What You've Been Saying

A lot of good-girl behavior is manifested in the way you speak or don't speak. If you've been talking a lot lately, it may be a sign that you're gushing, trying to please. If you've been talking very little, you may not be generating rule-breaking ideas, demonstrating your expertise, tooting your own horn, or asking for what you want.

Look at Things Through a Guy's Eyes

Though, as I've said over and over, I don't believe you should act like a man, some men are nonetheless extraordinarily gutsy and you should turn to them for their input. More than a few of the gutsy girls I know have told me that they often use men friends and mentors for guidance on all sorts of matters, including rehearsing dialogue for an important interview or confrontation. A friend of mine revealed to me lately that she gives all her important memos to a male friend to review before sending them and he invariably cuts out her first paragraph. “He's made me see that I have a tendency to present lots of unnecessary information when what I really should be doing is cutting to the chase,” she says.

When I suspect I'm ready to act like a good girl, I consult with my husband or my brother Jim, who is an investment banker in New York, and they steer me right.

Spend Some Time with a Little Gutsy Girl

When I started this book, I became hypersensitive about the way I treated my five-year-old daughter, Hayley, and on more than one occasion, I caught myself telling her, “Oh, that's a good girl.” I began “watching” the way I dealt with her and tried not to make statements that would reinforce the idea that she had to be the perfect little girl. I got so focused on
my
behavior toward her that it took me a while to realize that this gutsy little girl had a lot to teach me.