I am told that some people fear public speaking so much that
they would choose death over getting up in front of an audience. Speaking in
front of people has never been a problem for me. I was sent to ballet school at
three so I grew up used to performing in dancing competitions, acting in plays.
And I’m a natural extrovert!
However when I have a book tour or convention coming up I lie
awake and anguish about what to wear! I always feel that I am wearing the wrong
thing at the wrong time. Like the time I attended a cocktail party given by my
then-agent at the Frankfurt Book Fair. The party was for my European agents to
meet me. I bought a stunning sapphire blue silk jacket. And when I entered the
room everyone else was in black. I mean it. Everyone. I felt like a peacock
that had inadvertently stumbled into a hen house.
I was once at a convention in Toronto and didn’t find out
until I got there that the convention banquet was a formal affair. As in
cocktail dresses. I had only pants and jackets with me. Nothing fancy at all. I
had to rush out and try and find something suitable. But it was summer and the
stores had shorts/short sundresses. Nothing suitable for a banquet. Mortifying.
And another fear is that I’ll be on book tour and someone
will come up to me with a photograph. “I took this picture of us the last time
you visited here three years ago,” she’ll say. AND I’M WEARING THE SAME
JACKET! She’ll think I only own one
jacket!
And then there is the matter of weather. Last week I was
scheduled to speak in Indianapolis. I thought Indiana, February. Cold, right?
And accordingly I brought a fur vest with me when I traveled from California to
our condo in Arizona. And two days before the trip I check the weather in
Indianapolis. 70 degrees. That is simply not fair. My smart 70 degree clothes
are hanging on a rack in California.
So I arrived wearing a light outfit. The next morning I woke
up and guess what—it was snowing. Wind chill in the teens. Luckily I had
carried my one winter coat onto the plane.
The trouble is that I like to travel light. No huge
suitcases to drag around and put my shoulder out. So I don’t want to take a
selection of clothes suitable for all eventualities. I have learned to take an
extra pair of black pants and an extra white turtleneck, just in case I spill
coffee on myself (which certainly has happened) or as in the time I was on a
midday TV show and in the segment after mine the chef cooked his grandmother’s
favorite spaghetti sauce (bright red) and gave some to me to taste, on camera,
wearing a white shirt. I still sweat at the memory of it!
And about the time the back of my long cardigan
inadvertently dipped into the toilet… well, I won’t go there!
When you read this I’ll have just returned from Houston. I
used to live in Houston. I know that the temperature can change 40 degrees in
an hour so any trip in that direction means a choice of clothing ranging from
Artic to tropical.
How I wish I could be Hank and look fabulous in a black
suit.Or my friend Cara Black in her draped Paris-style black clothes. Alas black is not my color. I look as if I am heading to a funeral,
probably my own. I realize that most
people come to see me and don’t care what I’m wearing. I tell myself this. So
why am I staring at the ceiling at 2:30 a.m. wondering what to wear at my next
speaking engagement?
Reds and Readers: do you agonize over what to wear or do you just open your wardrobe and grab something?
