And The Winnah of the WGC Screenwriting Awards Ticket Giveaway Is...

CATHLEEN M., who dazzles and delights with her treatise on a secret weapon in a writer meeting... sometimes process must give way for moments of blind luck...

MEETINGS AND PROPER UNDERWEAR

When I was a wisp of a girl I found, in my grandmother’s bookcase, a worn little paperback with a title that went something like, ‘Proper Attire for the Career Girl’. It was a terse guide to the conventional dress and good grooming for your typical secretary of the 1950’s. I opened it to a black and white drawing of a prim lady with a flipped up hair-do and a high collared blouse. Paragraphs warned of the career killing perils of chipped fingernails and unpolished shoes. Then there was the chapter on undergarments. I winced at the illustrations of stocky forms entombed in torso length girdles and harness-like bras. The chapter expounded on the arsenal of underwear that would not betray its wearer with bulges or panty lines. I, in my grass stained jeans, wind tossed mane, and bare feet, wondered at these horrors. I relegated that book to a back shelf, never to give it another thought until …

The Monday morning meeting.

The day had begun with me standing at my closet deliberating over ‘the look’. I was to meet with a coven of executives who were buying my television show. I anticipated the usual tug of war would ensue – me wanting more money and control of ancillary rights and they wanting everything for nothing.

I surveyed my wardrobe and weighed the pros and cons of the ‘financial-producer look’. I considered the risk of evoking a banker who is creatively challenged and wondered if I could soften it with accessories. Nah. I’d look like a real estate agent. Alternatively I could go for the ‘creative-producer look’ but not too creative lest they think I’m not business minded. I settled on a simple suit.

It so happened this particular Monday morning followed the weekend of the broken washing machine. I was reminded of this when I opened my underwear drawer.

Good God. All I had left were a couple of thongs and a strapless thing I had worn once under a cocktail dress. In my Sunday frenzy of hand washing my kid’s school clothes, I had neglected all else.

Walking into the meeting, I was determined to maintain a good impression. I made the professional gesture of standing to the side while my hosts found their seats around the boardroom table. Then I, not once turning my back, stepped to my seat. In truth, I did not want to have to explain the wedgie created by the thong that had gripped the back of my pantyhose and skirt and held it like some weird bunny tail. It conjured the memory of that little book with its sage advice on proper undergarments. Had it been written fifty years later, it might have cautioned on the dangers of wearing a thong beneath a business suit.

My most urgent concern was to liberate myself from the ersatz bunny tail. While the executives threw demands, I sat back in my chair in such a way to unlock the thong’s grip. The maneuver worked. For a moment, I basked in the calm of my freedom. That’s when my opponents exchanged furtive whispers, then turned to me and moderated their ultimatums. Had they read something into my composure?

As the meeting wore on, the executives slumped in their chairs and leaned on their elbows. I meanwhile, sat straight and poised. For my exemplary posture I could thank the strapless bra. The engineering that goes into a typical bra is truly astounding. There are more stress points than on the Montreal Olympic Stadium’s roof. Consider then, how a strapless number stays up. It’s a marvel that involves wires, a few shakes of pixie dust, and – most important - the ability to maintain one’s ribs at a slightly elevated position. It was that little rib trick that gave me the air of self-assurance.

The meeting ended with me getting a decent budget and keeping ancillary rights. I like to think it was my negotiating skills that won the day. However, I must also give credit to the little book that so repelled me on the subject of proper underwear, I was willing to throw caution to the wind and redefine the meaning of ‘dress for success’.

Congrats Cathleen, and a big 'Thank You' to everyone who entered. The I.D. and essay of our other ticket recipient will be revealed tomorrow.