Nude Spanxx

Have you heard of Spanx? Those skin tight, nude-colored industrial panty hose that hold you in so you can squeeze into your formal gown without starvation, exercise, or a high colonic? We had a catty experience with Spanx this week. A consulting firm pitched a new engagement to senior leadership and all I could focus on was the ridiculous-looking consultant in a dress that can only be described as nude-colored Spanx. It was a body suit. And she wasn't stick thin either. It stuck to the wrong places and highlighted body parts that shouldn't be broadcast in a conservative Catholic boardroom, let alone plain daylight. My first thought when I saw her was, "Gee, this lady forgot to put her dress on over her Spanx this morning."

Got the visual? It was pretty dramatic.

Anyway, the consulting engagement speech went well, if a little long. After a while, you hear peoples' blackberries buzzing and you know they're either following the Sox game or texting each other. In the olden days (by "olden," I mean, "Pre-iPhone"), people had their "real" meetings on the golf course or after meetings. I've noticed that, too. The REAL meeting happens when the uninterested and unengaged people leave the room and the engaged few with a stake in the game stay after to finish the work at hand. Well, now, the REAL meeting happens as a sub-text (ha ha, pun intended) of the original meeting. People text each other, forming and shaping opinions while the poor lady in her ugly dress was still droning on about the wonders of her company.

So I texted Nurse Jackie and EVOO. I asked what the scoop was. Both replied that they were trying to figure out what the tattoo was on the lady's arm (it was a Celtic symbol for the Trinity). They then asked me what THAT was and I explained this Celtic tradition via text to them. Then Sister Lourdes tapped me on the shoulder and asked if we were done yet, for she was tired of trying to figure out what that stupid tattoo was.

The meeting finally (and I do mean FINALLY!) disbanded and we went our separate ways. Later that evening, while rehashing our days in the hallway (like we always do), the super-introverted CFO who barely says "boo" comes up to Nurse Jackie and I and asked if that nude-colored dress was inappropriate. "Inappropriate?! Of course it was inappropriate! She forgot to put her REAL dress on!" We carried on for probably ten minutes, talking about this poor woman's dress and how it didn't respect our culture or the nuns and, hey, what if she stood by that file cabinet? She would disappear as if against a green screen!

CLEARLY, the consultant left a lasting impression on our team. And no, we're not hiring her. We don't want to wonder about the ugly dress or tattoo any longer!