The Curse of Being Too Attractive

Attractive is making yourself smaller, being deferential, and hedging your statements.

After a lunch focused on women in leadership last Thursday, I realized I'm too attractive for my own good....But not in the way that you think! 

Allow me to demonstrate with a real-live example from today.

It is 4:35pm and I am walking over to the pantry for my afternoon decaf when I cross paths with one of the partners of our firm (let's call him A). A is the spitting stereotype of a major financial services firm executive. He is articulate, quick on his feet, and never seen without a beautifully pressed blazer and some sort of memo in hand. Over the course of my year at the company I've only worked briefly with him on a few small ad hoc projects. He knows me by name, of course, and we exchange greetings whenever he is in the office (which can be rare since business and pleasure call... and they call rather frequently when you're at partner level).

Today, I arrived very early (I was out of my apartment by 7:30am and in my seat by 8:00am as a result of my roommate's early morning drawer slamming habit and my consequent sleepus interruptus). And after I arrived, I plopped down behind my monitors for a solid 8 hours or so, getting up only occasionally for a coffee run or you know, take care of the two major consequences of coffee runs.

Our interaction went like this:
A: "Oh!" (Genuine shock.) "I haven't seen you recently, S."
Me: "Well yes, you've been traveling." I reminded him, confused by the statement. "How was the conference?"
A: "No, I mean, I haven't seen you all day today."
Me: "I have been here all day."
A: "Where were you?"
Me: "I guess, I sit -- I sit -- I'm in that very secretive cubicle." (What the heck am I trying to say?)
J (a co-worker): "She sits at M's old cubicle." (Well timed rescue, given my sudden loss of words.)
A: (Still astonished) "I really haven't seen you all day." 

Yikes! Thank goodness face time isn't a huge part of winning favor in my job. More than anything, this interaction harkens to a revelation I had from last week's leadership lunch.

During this lunch, we were introduced to a theory of Powerful vs. Attractive. They are the two ends of a spectrum in terms of workplace personality.

Attractive qualities are being deferential, leaning forward/using body language to make yourself smaller, not interrupting, receiving cues rather than giving cues, hedging your statements, and displaying generally greater level of niceties. Powerful qualities are being authoritative, interrupting/valuing own time, leaning back and taking greater amount of personal space, and generally exhibiting greater command. There isn't one that's better than the other; that's not the point. The point is enlarging one's own range within the spectrum.

For me, the spectrum probably lies closer to the attractive: to the deferential (allowing the partner to lead the conversation rather than directing it myself), to the hedging ("I guess", "I think", language like that) and to the personal space retracting body language (sitting behind my monitors, taking up less space, being neither seen nor heard until 4:30pm). Yes, I am attractive alright (LOL). So I can really benefit by working on being more powerful. That means, next time, I'm going to go talk to A in his office rather than relying on a chance encounter between the bull pen and the kitchen.

During the leadership lunch lecture, someone from Hong Kong had posed an interesting question: How American is this framework? The answer: Very.

I wonder how and why.

Feeling failz with Phil the Phal

I'm all alone at the office and just had a horrible phone experience, to cap off a lonely day. Everyone else is out, either for this one major conference or for vacation.

And by the way, the day started out lousy, too. I walked the 10 blocks to the subway with both work and personal laptops, several packets of research, and my gym sneakers in tow only to find I had forgotten my wallet when I went to dig for my MetroCard. Smooth. (Leave it up to me to bring everything but the kitchen sink when I need the kitchen sink the most.)

As I am alone with Phil the Phal (my flowerless orchid plant) in a sea of empty cubicles, I decided to dedicate most of today working on a memo that isn't due very immediately but definitely needs a head start because I know basically nothing about the space (yieldcos). Let us take a semi-relevant tangent.

...For almost all of my career life, I'd been the most junior person on a very hierarchical team on the "capital allocator" side... not only was the team itself 3 layers sheltered form the actual investment, I was also supporting the senior analyst who supported the VP who supported the PM, etc. so yeah, I was very removed. By the time an investment trickled down to me, the "analytics" involved hard-coding data into a template. A year ago, you probably couldn't even count on me to tell you what a dividend is.

But after paying my dues for a couple of years, I'm starting to ramp up on the responsibilities front, and now I'm at a place where my boss encourages me to be a little more independent. I'm loving that. But also really, really lost some times.

In order to work on this memo, I needed someone to point me to credible sources where I can find information on yieldcos. That's the thing about working in investments - there aren't "textbooks." Whereas I could always consult a periodic table or some sort of scale in my prior life as a lab rat, I find myself struggling to find starting points now. I decided last week to reach out to one of the many large investment banks that we work with in investment sourcing. I got redirected to someone with a big fancy title and long-ass department name. We set up a call for this afternoon. This is the disastrous call of which I speak.

After cursory introductions - our biographies, teams, foci, we launched into the guys on the other line talking enthusiastically at me about yields. And policies. Very many numbers. Very many abbreviations and tickers I couldn't catch. Whoa. I typed up what I heard -- verbatim -- as I had no idea what I was listening to and was therefore unable to filter down what was important, what was not. (This was my strategy when I first came into this industry... and it served me well. 20+ large notebooks bit the dust at my previous firm as a result of it.)

Have any questions? One guy asked, as the other took a breath after his 20-minute soliloquy about the merits of renewables subsidies.

Um, yeah I did! So obviously, I asked them. Yes, my questions were probably very elementary. Especially since these two guys were sector specialists. But to me, these were the "smart" questions that made it after I pruned down a far more extensive list with even dumber questions. I had pored over research to distill these questions. So I was gonna ask them, believe you me.

But the reaction from the other line was not so receptive. And I was asked, "Why don't you go look at the publicly available information to help you understand?" (Because judging from the quality of my questions, I'm clearly not smart enough to have thought of Googling...)

And "Is there someone else on your team who might cover this area or is it just you?" (because an idiot like me can't possibly be worthy enough to understand the complex valuation metrics of a completely man-made investment instrument and yes btw there is someone else on the team... many in fact... who know a heck of a lot more than I do, but I'm betting they started off just like me -- knowing very little and sitting in a cubicle with their version of Phil "the Bloomless" Phal -- so I'm not budging, thanks.)

I don't know. I might be overreacting, but I felt really saddened and embarrassed and discouraged after that call. I guess the silver lining is, at least I opened a dialogue. And now I know that I need to be way more prepared for these "sector expert"  calls.

xoxo shel

monkey trouble, machined desks, making friends

I don't know why but when I found this Instagram post this morning somewhere between 28th and 34th Street on the R train, I nearly died laughing. The caption reads "Capuchins are the most intelligent of all monkeys...Donnatto as you can see here,is actually studying a rock." OMG.

Does anyone remember that movie from the 90s, Monkey Trouble, about the capuchin who was trained as a thief and who was rescued by a girl in the park and taken home, kept secret from her parents, and trained to be a good monkey? Then he had to choose between staying with the little girl or going back to the pocket picking villains that trained him?

It was one of my favorite movies when I was a little child. And now that I'm looking at IMDB, I think Thora Birch, who played the protagonist, Eva, looks a lot like Jennifer Lawrence!

Thora Birch, lead actress in Monkey Trouble
Source: Google Images.

On a more serious note, the direction of this blog is all over the place, but I think that's ok. I think I have been trying to make it into something structured, and narrowly focused when really, the whole appeal of blogging for me was the journaling of everyday things and thoughts. With that, here's a little bit about work and play:

Work: Work is going pretty well so far. I just hit my 10-month mark, and starting to pick up more responsibilities. I've tried to become more open minded about types of investments and not see things in boxes as much.

Over the last couple of months we had construction and some folks got standing desks. I hear it's all the rage in office furniture now. At the rate we're going, this is how I envision every single work station to look like in our office a year from now.

Source: The New Yorker

Bahahahahaha. No, I'm serious. We'll all be strapped to some sort of exercise machinery at our ergonomically-designed desks, working on our vlookups.

Play: My social life, on the other hand, has not been so great. I've found it rather difficult to make and maintain friends. I think that a lot of folks in their mid-20s can probably relate: I'm in a kind of psychological rut where I feel like I should be more involved; that I'm somehow missing out on things. Of course, social media doesn't make it any easier.

Being in a new city is lonely as heck. I never thought I'd feel this way after moving here; after all, I'm living with two of my good friends from Boston, and my family is so very close. But things just didn't turn out how I envisioned.

My roommates are busy with school -- and in a totally different place in terms of life (e.g., they have exams, I have investment committee meetings), priorities (e.g., they might stay up til 3am studying for that licensing exam, I might have to go to bed at 10:30pm so that I can be lucid for a conference call at 9am), and interests (they might be focused on learning theories and practices, I might be focused on calculating IRRs). As a result of that, we haven't been able to keep the same dynamic we had in Boston, when we were all working and all had similar worries and schedules. It makes me sad sometimes, but I think I just need to be flexible and they'll meet me halfway. I reached out to schedule a roomie dinner - It has been months since we've sat down to eat together. I'm really looking forward to it. I love these girls dearly, even though we haven't been able to spend much time together.

My family - well, they are my rock, but they're also busy. I've tried to be helpful when I can but ultimately I think they all have things to focus on. I try to visit often - at least once every three weeks. Sometimes when I go home to visit, it is just me and dad, driving around running errands. Or me and Mom going out to buy produce at the Farm. It's ok, I know they try to fit me in when they can. And at the very least, I'm able to get my laundry done at home without the fear of a random neighbor gratuitously taking my delicates out of the dryer.

As a result, I'm trying my very best to be positive and proactive in reaching out to people to catch up and create friendships when I can. It was so discouraging at first. I e-mailed a bunch of people and very few got back to me. It makes me scared to continue to reach out to people because I feel like I will just be more and more hurt with each e-mail that goes unanswered.

But I have to remind myself of the dividends I've already reaped. My friend Kas who ran track and participated in this political science debate club with me in high school was one person that I emailed out of the blue to hang out. We not only had a blast catching up over coffee, but have hung out several times since and are planning to go to an event together in early May (yay!). And yesterday, I reached out to a girl I met at a networking event a month ago. I feared that she had forgotten me altogether but on the contrary, she invited me over to her new apartment for cookies and tea.

So see, Shel, this totally invalidates your fears. Keep putting yourself out there. It's not easy to make and maintain friends in the city but... look how rewarding it is when you succeed.

"Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing" / the evolution of a childhood bestie

So funny how much memory a random object can bring. I found a beat up copy of this book in my parents' basement, where there is a walk-in closet of all of my childhood nicknacks.

Growing up, my friend Cami and I were inseparable. We met, by the stroke of luck, on the first day of second grade when we were both in Mrs. C's class ... I was terrified of Mrs. C so delighted in having found a kindred spirit.

Of course, with my luck, Cami moved away like two weeks after that.

But then she came back! We were in the same third grade class, and quickly became best friends. We loved Mrs. M. dearly. She let us "publish" books by binding a bunch of papers together with those plastic spirally things that I don't know the name for but they are used on hedge fund pitch books LOL. We wrote and illustrated so many stories during our free time in Mrs. M's class.

Around that time, we also met a boy named Shrimp. I'm pretty sure he had a real name, but for whatever reason, he was called Shrimp. My theory was that Cami actually liked him but because it wasn't cool to like boys then, we had to be mean to him in some way. Calling him by a nickname he hated was one way to do that. Cami, Shrimp and I ruled the playground, daring one another to spin faster and faster on the merry-go-round, zooming down the rolly-slide face first and on our feet. We were a pretty wild crew.

At some point, Cami's family moved closer to us. Giving us even greater reason to spend every single minute together. Our families became one -- our moms traded recipes, carpooled us to and from school, alternated as den of destruction for our sleepovers. This book was a Christmas present from Cami's family, and it was most likely given in conjunction with a pack of Lipsmackers (Yes, it is not hard to know what a third grade girl would love for presents).

Great timing, too, because like Peter in Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, I was dealing with the travails of a toddler sibling at the time... I hope that fictional Peter, like me, has learned to overcome the craziness of a little brother and cherishes him now!

We were again in the same class for fourth grade and fifth grade, with Miss D. and Mrs. D., respectively, chasing us down with detention slips. I truly did feel like a Fourth Grade Nothing, as I struggled with certain subjects, failed to win the approval of the "cool girls", etc. But through it all, I shared my tears and laughter with Cami - so it was all good. Let me tell you, Mrs. M. must have been a saint to be able to handle us.

It's so strange to be able to remember our elementary school antics now, decades later, and it still seems so fresh in mind. Cami and I lost touch as our families moved, but recently, we reconnected on social media. I have loved catching up through the lens of Facebook to see all that she's accomplished in these past years. In many ways, Cami is still the same Cami. And I'm probably still the same me, a bigger, taller, (more restrained?) version of that Fourth Grade Nothing. Anyway, Cami, if you are reading this, I loved that we shared so much of our childhood, and I would love so much to see you again in person.

Frappe's at 'Bucks and Face-Blindness (Midtown Misadventure #1)

I've been a klutz for most of my life, and the one true advantage of that is... My threshold for embarrassment is pretty darn high. Which is good because I ultimately end up doing embarrassing things every single day.

Today I did so at Starbucks.

My colleague/friend Ellen and I had agreed to meet at a particular Starbucks this morning. We had met twice in one day about a month ago when we both coincidentally had the same conference followed by the same networking event, and due to the similarity of our firms' investment mandates, we wanted to make a regular event of meeting up to discuss investments and market color.

When I got to the coffee shop we agreed on, I gave myself premature *pats* on the back for showing up ahead of time and actually going to the correct Sbux, unlike yesterday... but that's a whole other midtown misadventure that deserves its own telling.

With 5 minutes until our scheduled meeting time and the line moving up at a promising pace, I decided to get my coffee first. Since this was serious-ish business, I passed on the decadent drinks and got a no-nonsense grande Pike. *Pats again, for grown-up coffee selection* But in all honesty I can only down that with a truckload of sugar and a boatload of milk, so I proceeded to the coffee modification stand.

As I was ripping open my third Domino sugar packet, I thought I spotted Ellen's blunt bob across the way, in the order line, so I threw my right arm into the air like a windmill and grinned as big as I could. "Hey Ellen!" She saw me but must not have heard, and appeared to stare right through me. That's funny, I thought, I may have only met her once, but she definitely did not strike me as the shy type.

Being the act-first think-later genius that I am, I decided that the best course of action would be to mosey on over and force recognition. So that is exactly what I did.

"Hi!" I beamed, willing myself to look as recognizable as possible. She just looked at me suspiciously, clutching her wallet more tightly.

"How are you?" I insisted, noticing for the first time that she had gotten highlights since our last meeting. She shifted from one foot to the other, her eyes now darting around, not meeting mine, and clearly looking for an egress. No words, just noticeable discomfort.

"Busy day, huh?" I enunciated, motioning to the ebb and flow of Starbucksers around us, thinking maybe she couldn't hear me even though at this point I was standing a foot and a half away from her. Hm, did Ellen get new glasses, I wondered now that I as close enough to notice the details, because I could've sworn, the last time I saw her, she had frameless --

"Um, hi Shel" I heard from directly behind me.... prompting me to turn around to face... the actual Ellen. In that moment, I wanted nothing less than to disappear immediately and forever.

Frozen, I let Ellen (the real one) lead me away from the poor New York City doppelganger who probably didn't anticipate being talked at by some random crazy stranger at 10am when she stepped out for her mid-morning coffee. I stammered an apology though by now the entire shop had witnessed my embarrassing blunder of face blindness.

...Those city-slick baristas were definitely judging me behind their silly green aprons.