The Woman With the Red Glasses
The Art of Being Memorably You
It was 11 am on a Saturday—in theory, the perfect time for a continuing education class. Not too early, and not so late that it interferes with the rest of the day. I sat at a U-shaped table in a windowless room at NYU, sipping from a cardboard coffee cup.
This was before cell phones did anything more than make calls and texts. Two taps of number two for letter B; remember those days? The room was a mix of students—ranging in age from young professionals in their late twenties (like myself) to retired adults eager for a second chance at learning. Next to me, a woman was reading a book. I opened my multi-subject spiral notebook and wrote the date and name of the course—something along the lines of “Persuasive Presentation Skills for Leadership” at the top of a new section.
I was there because my boss had given me a poor “executive presence” rating on an otherwise perfect performance review. Apparently, I needed to speak slower and softer, not arrive to work with wet hair, and deliver my insights more concisely. I was who I was; the suggestions to change irked me. My (nearly) stellar performance review was defaced with a 2 out of 5 for executive presence and my parents’ voices echoed in my mind. They always asked, “What happened to the other 5 points?” when I brought home a 95%. I asked him how I could improve my score during my next review. He told me that the company would pay my tuition if I found a reputable class on the topic. So here I was.
A few moments later, a petite woman walked to the front of the room and introduced herself. I believe her name was Randi. Her presence made me want to be there. She wore jeans and a crisp white button-down. Her eyes were bright behind a pair of red glasses, and there was something about her that exuded personality–before she had done anything more than say, “Good morning”.
Looking around the room, everyone seemed just as captivated by her as I was. She handed out a piece of paper with a list of questions. This would be our first exercise. She gave us a few minutes to read the lines to ourselves.
I believe we should move in a different direction.
Can you repeat that?
I’d like to propose we move on to the next agenda item.
Then, she called upon students to read each line. They did. She repeated the line and it landed far more powerfully. Why?
That semester, I learned that confidence comes from within, but portraying it is an art. The student who said, “I believe we should move in a different direction,” while slouched in their seat, gave off an air of indifference. When I read, “Can you repeat that?” it sounded like a threat. The voice of the woman who read the third line sounded uncertain.
Randi repeated each line as if she was saying something different. Try this: read the below sentence twice. Focus on making the words in bold stand out as you do.
I believe we should move in a different direction.
Now, with a different emphasis:
I believe we should move in a different direction.
Sounds more collaborative, right?
How about:
Can you repeat that?
And what if you emphasized repeat?
Can you repeat that?
It no longer sounds like a threat.
What happens if you say this sentence like it’s a question:
I’d like to propose we move onto the next agenda item?
Next, consciously think about having your voice go down instead of up as you re-read the line:
I’d like to propose we move on to the next agenda item.
Far more confident, isn’t it?
The exercise demonstrated how delivery plays a significant role in the way people perceive what you say. I was suddenly grateful that a poor performance rating had me in this classroom every Saturday. Randi introduced us to the idea that body language affects how others see us and can also change how we see ourselves. This was years before Amy Cuddy delivered her power poses TED talk.
I hadn’t thought about Randi for years until yesterday. As my husband and I drove home from an event, the sound of seashells clinking against each other as we hit bumps in the road, I recalled her advice. And no, the seashell reference wasn’t a typo.
One of the other lessons Randi shared was that when you walk into a room, people judge you within the first 10 seconds of meeting you. Your clothing, accessories, and body language speak before you do. Her outfit was unremarkable when she entered the classroom on that first day. Yet, her red glasses exuded confidence and quirkiness. Her eyewear was unexpected but not inappropriate. They were an intentional choice.
“Always be memorable, and in a room of strangers, give them an easy way to remember you.” she had said. Randi was the woman with the red glasses whenever she attended a professional networking event.
As we drove home, Michael and I spoke about our evening. We met dozens of people, and I’m not the best with names, so when I described them, it was “the woman in the orange dress” or “the guy with the floral shirt.”
The clinking of seashells reminded me of the lessons I learned years ago from Randi, the woman with the red glasses. Her advice had unconsciously guided me to create my version of 'red glasses' for the evening—a crown made from seashells, seaweed, whelk casings, and even a dead rock crab.
In a world where first impressions matter, the intentional choices we make—like a pair of vibrant frames or a handcrafted seashell crown—make us stand out and be memorable.
As I reflect on my time from that windowless classroom to the gardens of Longhouse Reserve, I realize that 'executive presence' isn't about speaking softer or slower—it's about having the confidence to be authentically you, even if that means wearing the occasional seashell crown.
Words of the Week:
“To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment." - Ralph Waldo Emerson.
Photo of the Week:
Longhouse Reserve is a beautiful 16-acre garden with incredible sculptures throughout. It is the vision of artist, collector and world-renowned textile designer and weaver Jack Lenor Larsen. If you find yourself on the East End of Long Island, I highly recommend a visit.
You can learn more about their property and programming here.
Last night I wore (and gave away) a handful of seashell necklaces. They’re simply seashells strung on fishing line. But they’re fun to wear in the summer—perhaps to your next event? If you’d like to receive one in the mail, leave a comment below and I’ll reach out for your snail mail address. The first five people to comment will win!
Another great read for a summer Sunday afternoon!
In a world full of ordinary, you are extraordinary. Put that seashell crown on because you are a spectacular woman. 💕💕💕