Drink: The Intersectionality of Beauty, Booze, & Corporate America
TW: sexual assault, rape. When I write about my experiences in pageantry, it’s usually because I’m able to relate them back to how they’ve done fucked me up in my mid-to-late twenties. (I hope you laughed here... but in all seriousness...) Any pageant-retiree of the last 15-20 years probably knows what I’m talking about. I had a work conference last week. My first of many, I’m sure, but my first big-girl-I-actually-might-have-an-important-job-here-or-maybe-even-something-valuable-to-contribute work conference. And naturally I made plenty of mistakes at said conference, including talking too much, not listening enough, and tripping in the hotel lobby over my heels. Beauty and grace, Miss United States. I was also the only woman from the sales team present at this conference, not counting my boss. If you work in sales, you know that open bars are essentially a game, or a trick, rather. Can you keep your shit together in front of clients or prospects well enough to have a tipsy conversa