Let's call my new friend and employer Pops (that sounds Persian right?).
Being a little rough around the edges Pops thought I could use a bit of polishing.
The banquet manager (also Persian) was an ex Butler? and had fled (pre revolutionary Iran) with his family also.
He not only taught me how to manage a loaded banquet tray without having to rest it on my shoulder (nononono! Pull your hair back! It is touching the food!)
He taught me a lot...not only HOW to set the table (casual vs formal) but what would need to be ON that table by just reading the menu.
Best of all was my "graduation gift"..a 14 carat gold crumbler engraved with my name and the date .
Since I would be working both banquet and formal catering gigs at private homes I needed to learn the classic Playboy Bunny way to serve cocktails to a low table (wearing a little black wrap around dress), this knee bend and look over the shoulder and smile proved to be invaluable.
I was never a girly-girl with the makeup and hair (got messed up under my cowboy hat so what was the point?) Pop's friend sent me to yet
ANOTHER Persian expat...this one a woman.
She wanted my hair short to show off my beautiful bone structure (HEY! just sayin' lol) so we did that.
Couldn't pile my hair up any longer but def had more time in the morning .
Once all that hair weight was gone it was back to the uncontrollable birds nest of red curls....the main reason I grew my hair so long in the first place.
Looked like Orphan Annie .
On to the makeup counter at the mall.
She told me to fade the tan as it looked bad with my hair color and brought out too many freckles "the sun will make your skin like leather as well as makeit wrinkle and give the skin cancer" she finally got across.
I didn't need much makeup (still 18 years old) so a bit of blush coupled with eye liner and shadow with heavy mascara would do for now...
Since this post is starting to read like a Glamour magazine I'm gonna shut it down.
Oh one last thing.....never wear blue jeans to work.
Get dressed properly (hair and makeup as well) with hose and heels.
Then when you get there change into the uniform (banquet was black shoes with low heel, black trousers, crisp white shirt with short cutaway jacket and tie...both black. For pushing cocktails in a formal setting...well lets just say that Imade way more tips on those nites lolol)
Don't worry....this will be the last of the "Dressing Ms Daisy" type of post.
Needed to hit on the expectations of "the rich and famous" of Dallas during late 1970's .
After all the first impression is the lasting impression....and if that first impression is a professional one....well you can fill in those blanks.