SDTC Finishing School

by Karen Cleveland
My thoughts on wedding showers are brief. To be plain, I’m not a big fan of them in the traditional sense: my blood pressure skyrockets when I think of a community hall basement, decorated in pink with the little wife-to-be getting outfitting with all of her housewares. The feminist in me dies a little with each of these showers that I attend (but I do attend them, nevertheless).

If you’re engaged, someone will likely want to throw you a shower. Save your energy because no matter how much you politely decline, it’s going to happen. So…
- Have one shower (and if you have any creative input, offer that it be a bit more au currant – co-ed perhaps?). If there is talk of planning more than one shower, squash it immediately and introduce the two parties so they can discuss and arrange between them.
- Your guest list for the shower should never stray from your wedding guest list. If someone is invited to the shower, they should most definitely be invited to the wedding.
- Be grateful and thankful. If you’re not into it, fake it and smile like a Ms. Universe runner-up.

by Karen
The spring showers are finally over and the summer months are upon us. For me, this typically means two things: full-out road construction across the GTA and many weddings.

I love weddings. I would get married every Saturday (to the same guy, of course) because our wedding was the best party we’ve ever hosted. And that’s what it should be. It’s not about the bride or how pretty she loves (and if you think it is, get a prenup)

Weddings are also a field of landmines when it comes to etiquette – along with births and funerals, weddings conjure up volumes of antiquated and dogmaticrules. In the next few columns, I’ll do my best to tackle some of the biggies.

But first, a caveat.

The two golden rules I followed and now preach are:
1) Be absolutely resolute on the things that matter to you.
2) Be willing to bend them for the people you love

Example: you’re not digging the religious vows and want a ceremony that reflects you and your partner. Don’t compromise that. On the other hand, your guest list is 99.99% full but your in-laws have a very close friend that they would like to attend (and you know they’ll probably have a better time at the wedding if these folks are there to celebrate with them). Find the room.

by karen cleveland
Several months back, I offered some suggestions on how to make your commute on the red rocket more enjoyable for you and fellow passengers.

Consider this an addendum to the original post http://shedoesthecity.com/the_better_way_your_guide_to_riding_the_ttc_wi...

No form of grooming that leaves gross stuff behind
Powdering nose or touching up lips, fine. Cutting or filing nails, not. Smoothing hair, fine. Brushing hair then cleaning your brush of said hair, go to hell

Give up your seat
If you’re reading this during the day, you probably sit at a desk. Let someone who works on their feet have your seat on the bus, subway, streetcar.

Make other people give up their seat
If you're standing and you notice someone struggling to find a seat (a senior, pregnant woman, another with a disability), tap a non-crazy on the shoulder and point out the situation to them and ask if they'll give up their seat. From what I know about seniors in particular, they are too embarrassed or intimidated to ask for a seat, so do it for them. You'll be a senior someday, too. How nice will it be for some young'en to give up their seat for you?

by Karen Cleveland
Nothing brings out a person’s true colours like an insane sale – it is social Darwinism at its best. I was recently at a private shopping party where the deals were plentiful, but the fitting rooms were few. If you are equally impatient and self-assured, make like Jen and Olga and tug into a quiet corner, strip down to your skivvies and try stuff on there. Let the records show that I patiently waited in line, albeit I cursed myself for not dressing in layers so I could try things on in haste.

Overall, I was really impressed at how lovely all the co-shoppers were. There were no elbows or stink-eyes thrown, no below the belt shots like ‘that make your thighs look huge” – just a group of fashionable ladies shopping, having a good time and complimenting each other’s good taste.

This afternoon I was treated to an amazing sale of beauty products – the type of sale so great people line up an hour before the doors open. And while the deals made me misty-eyed, I’m happy to report the scene was imbued with pleases, thank you’s, after you’s, pardon me’s and more. How affirming that the world is a good place.

No deal is worth selling your self-respect over, by morphing into a pushy, no brought-upsy, monster. Treat people kindly and the shopping gods will continue to bless you.

by Karen Cleveland
I’m terrible with names, so I don’t mind at all when I meet people and they don’t remember mine. Introductions can be so fast and fleeting that it can be difficult to catch who-is-who, or the proper pronunciation of someone’s name.

If you’re in that moment when the face looks familiar but the name just won’t come, you can’t go wrong with simply re-introducing yourself. It instantly puts everyone at ease.

If you like, you can further soften the situation by making a quick self-deprecating joke, along the lines of “ever since I turned 20/was dropped as a child/took up contraband substances/etc/ my memory is horrible. Can I reintroduce myself?”

Even if you’re 90 per cent sure, avoid the guessing game that can endlessly gone on and on: abstain from taking stabs in the dark of “I think we met X, or at that XD, or did you work at X? Wait, was it the X?”. By the time that goes on for 10 minutes (and you’re repeatedly dead wrong), they might not want to be reintroduced to you after all.

by Karen Cleveland
I read a great piece on Canoe recently about couples getting too comfortable and losing sensibility or good form.

Beyond the courtship process, is there still an expectation to date, or ‘be on’ for your partner? Though admittedly not always an easy one to follow, my mantra is to never stop dating.

And while I’m not in a knockout dress, five inch heels and full makeup every day, that doesn’t mean I’m wearing worn out jogging pants and laundry-day knickers, either.

Whether it’s boredom, angst or just laziness that has you slumming it, snap out of it. No using the washroom in front of each other, performing (or leaving evidence) of personal hygiene or upkeep and heaven forbid, losing one’s goodmanners (please, thank you, speaking with, not at, each other).

Have fun, you flirt.

by Karen Cleveland
Sometimes I just can’t help it…I need to speak up. If I bear witness to something that I feel the need to callout, I do a gut check: if I don’t say anything right now, will this keep me awake later tonight?

Earlier this week, my response to this question was “yes” and it went something like this:

Me, walking down my street, coming back from a jog; iPod cranked with adrenaline to match. I notice a gentleman walking a dog. Said dog squats on my lawn. And does something that requires a shovel and a baggie.

Dog finishes, man begins to walk away, oblivious that I (the proud owner of the plushest lawn on my street) witness this.

Me: Errr….are you going to pick that up?
Gentleman: Pick what up?
Me: That mess. That mess your dog just made.
Gentleman: Why do you care?
Me: Because that’s my lawn. [very awkward pause] So….are you going to pick it up?
Gentleman: A series of cuss words, angry mumbles and nasty looks whilst cleaning up the mess.
Me: Are you upset because I’ve asked you to clean up after YOUR dog on MY lawn? Because if you disagree with that, you shouldn’t let your dog use it as its toilet. Fair?
Gentleman: More muttered cuss words and nasty looks then a clear glance towards my house address.

Therein lies the lesson.

Should I have spoken up? Probably, yes. But thanks to my moxie, who knows what this guy has planned (likely a vendetta).

Know when do raise a stink, or when to clean it up yourself.

by Karen Cleveland
The most charming and engaging conversation can be put to a grinding halt when someone makes an inappropriate query. Special friends in special situations (i.e. private) can ask these ‘get your back up’ questions, but they do not belong in casual cocktail banter.

So where are these precarious lines drawn? Any question with potentially loaded answer should be avoided or softened. Marriage, babies, weight, relationship satisfaction and money are all potential hot topics.

Personally, in the [many] years before we married when my husband and I lived together, we were bombarded with people asking us when we would tie the knot, often in very public and very awkward settings. If you too get the ask, diplomatically respond by leaning in close, to show the intimacy the subject deserves, and say, “you know, we get that question so often and it never gets easier to respond. I’m sure you can understand.”

Now days, we are asked when we plan to have babies. A lot. It’s probably the most personal question to can ask someone, moreover, with the most emotionally-laden responses lingering below a polite smile. You know the friends that you can have this conversation with (please, have it in private, of course).

If you’re on the receiving end of this question, answer it without really answering it. Wishy-washy responses like “it’s amazing how many people are concerned about us procreating. It’s nice to feel wanted” work, as does brazenly changing the subject like “errrr….great shoes”.
If you’re feeling saucy and are out to prove a point, you can also respond by declaring that you don’t want to wreck your figure or drop the bomb that your partner is impotent. Use at your supreme discretion.

by Karen Cleveland

If the golden rule of gratuity is 15-20 per cent, what’s a self-respecting woman to do in the case of a free service? There are countless free services that I believe warrant a token of appreciation: Several stylists do fringe trims au gratis, bell boys schlep your bags, shuttle services that get you from A to B on time, concierge folks, street entertainers [it goes on and on …. feel free to add to this list via Comments].

Since the calculation-by-per cent method doesn’t apply, do a gut check to determine a fitting amount. What would the service typically charge? What do you value it at? How long was the interaction (in other words, how much time was invested in you)?

Keep a few loonies, toonies and fives in a separate place in your wallet or purse for such requirements. Or, if you’re swinging by, plan to drop in with a latte or gift card to show your appreciation. You will most definitely make someone’s day.

by Karen Cleveland
Seven flights in 12 days…..I feel like a gypsy living out of a suitcase and eating out of takeout containers. Although I love travelling, for me the confines of airports and planes put a magnifying glass on how people treat others.

Take, for instance, the gentleman that sat in front of me on flight #3. Once he finished inhaling his tin-topped dinner, he wanted to settle in for a nap. So, he clicked the button on the armrest to go into full recline mode and promptly send my tray (attached to the back of his seat) straight into my chest. Snaps to the flight attendant for tersely addressing that. I ate the rest of my chicken devan and mashed potatoes in perfect peace after she laced him out.

I also get my knickers in a knot when people treat the plane like it’s a lounge – you know that kind. They perch in the aisle as soon as that little seatbelt light goes out, they walk around to chit chat and look irritated when the flight crew is trying to manoeuvre the massive drink cart around them.

My biggest vent is also one that I’m a bit sheepish to admit. I’m not the most confident flyer (a bit of an understatement). So that last thing I want to hear is how freaked out other people are. Man up and keep it to yourself. Chicken flyers feed off the anxiety of other chicken flyers so by sharing your own fears, it throws gas on the proverbial fire of nerves.

When flying from Toronto to Cozumel (flight #1), the row behind me was a group of friends, likely in their early 40’s. They had a lively banter all through take off and ascent on how shaky the plane felt and “is this thing going to make it up”. I completely lost it and started quietly sobbing in my seat whilst cutting the circulation from my husband’s arm (seriously, I was one step from sucking my thumb in an effort to self soothe). An innocent girl a few seats over from me also caught the dialogue and I watched her eyes go wide with terror. I felt bad for her, but was too absorbed in my own panic to give her a reassuring glance.

Speaking of innocent children, on flight #3, I was sandwiched between my husband and a boy about ten years old. It was a late flight and most people dozed off, myself and said boy included. When I woke up, he had some how sandwiched himself through the armrest and was half sleeping on me. He also managed to snag a piece of the blanket I had over me. I wasn’t annoyed though. He was super cute. He even offered me some of his Pizza Pringles once we landed. Now that’s a gentleman in the making.