Page 48 May 2015 The night the gala went wrong By Kindra Hall It was January 2007 when I received the invitation to my fi rst charity ball. A “gala,” as Michael (my then-boyfriend) called it. I think it was a children’s charity event, and while I was excited to help children, I was equally as excited that I – me – was going to attend a gala. My heart soared like that of a 16-year-old girl who was just asked to prom. Moments later, the soaring sensation stopped like a bird crashing into a freshly cleaned window. I remembered one minor detail: I was a bargain shopper. Which meant I had absolutely nothing to wear to a gala. I envisioned entering through a gala security sensor, which fl ashed blue lights and sounded an alarm that screamed, “Bargain shopper! Bargain shopper!” I had fl ashbacks to junior high and the ridicule I faced because of my hand-me-down wardrobe. I could not face that kind of humiliation again. I decided I couldn’t go to the gala. I informed Michael that I was unfortunately coming down with a cold and was unable to attend. The fact that I told him a week in advance was unfortunate, and made the illness even less believable. “Kindra,” he said sternly. “My company purchased a table. We RSVP’d. You’re going.” A mere three hours before my chariot to the event arrived, I still had nothing to wear. Nothing except my junior year prom dress – which I contemplated wearing. I took a deep breath and headed to the mall. When I arrived, I ran to the sale section for dresses at the least expensive department store. Within 15 minutes I found a cute black and white number that made my chest look bigger than it was, my waist look smaller than it was, and all for a price a bargain shopper could swallow. I purchased some pearls – albeit fake – from the lady with lipstick on her teeth at the jewelry counter and raced home. With fi ve minutes to spare, I was showered, dressed and ready to run out the door when I realized I had no shoes on my feet. Shoes! I forgot shoes! Before panic set in, I had a moment of inspiration. I ran back to my closet and pulled out a pair of black strappy heels. The heels I purchased in 2002 at Mervyn’s to wear to my college homecoming coronation. They were $24.99. They were Mootsies Tootsies. Sure the black straps were a little faded and the soles were a little ragged, but they had never let me down. I strapped those shoes on my feet, revealing my Revlon painted toes, gave my hair a fi nal toss and headed downstairs where Michael waited. When he saw me, he gasped (just a little) and said, “Ah! There’s that million-dollar smile I love.” We arrived at the gala and it was everything I dreamed it would be: men in black coats carrying tiny bits of food; a red carpet; endless glasses of champagne; women in gowns and fur and diamonds. And in the middle of all of this … was me, feeling like a million dollars. Then, just when I thought the evening couldn’t get any better, a woman with a camera approached me. “Excuse me, excuse me,” she said. “I am with a magazine and I was wondering if I could photograph you.” I was speechless. I handed Michael my (Target) clutch and followed the photographer to the lush surface of the red carpet where I knew exactly what to do: I smiled. I put my shoulder in. I put my shoulder out. I felt like such a natural that for a moment I forgot I was a bargain shopper. Just then the photographer shouted over the crowd that had gathered, “What are you wearing?” Oh, this was not good. I tried to think quickly. I tried to channel Heidi Klum, or Debbie Gibson, or someone… “Um. It’s vintage?” (After all, it was on sale). The photographer frowned. “What about your handbag?” she asked. I remembered the Target clutch with the fake rhinestone heart was safe with Michael. “Um. I lost it?” The photographer frowned more. “Who are your shoes?” she shouted. I considered saying vintage again but shoes aren’t vintage, they’re just old. Having had enough with my hesitations and lack of cooperation, the photographer slung her camera over her shoulder, charged the red carpet in a huff, and lifted my foot off the ground to read the name on the bottom. Her plan was thwarted. The name was worn off from years of use. Convenient and embarrassing. Unwilling to surrender, she lifted my heel to look at my tattered sole (or should I say: soul). There, the brand remained in all its humiliating glory. The photographer stood and announced to the world, “Mootsies Tootsies.” I felt my skin burn as I blushed. I wanted desperately to run from the red carpet. To never set foot in a gala again. I slowly walked back to Michael and when he asked how the photo went I mumbled something about “Mootsies Toosties” and “total humiliation.” “Well, as long as they snapped a shot of that million-dollar smile of yours, I don’t think your shoes will matter much,” he said. I hoped he was right and tried to forget it had ever happened in the fi rst place. We stayed for the rest of the evening, eating great food, cheering for the children and having the time of our lives dancing the night away (in shoes that were made for dancing). The embarrassment of the gala had all been forgotten. Until… A month or so later, Michael came home with a magazine open to a page with photos of four women: a celebrity gala guest, a beautiful Scottsdale woman, a beautiful Phoenix woman and… Me. Below the photos were captions of what these style icons wore – shoes included. It went something like: Gucci, Prada, Versace, and… Mootsie Tootsie. 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Page 49 May 2015 By Jean Hodgson At the formal conclusion of a career, there is de fi nitely no one-size- fi ts-all answer to the question: Now what? Maybe the response is pursuing hobbies and travel interests, spending more time with family, volunteering more, or simply adjusting to the freedom of fewer responsibilities. Unfortunately, health concerns may de fi ne or limit the options. But for some retirees, the answer is a second act – often referred to as an “encore career.” I’m particularly drawn to that expression because encore has such a positive connotation. A musician does an encore because his performance has been so heartily af fi rmed. Your skills and experience are at a peak – please don’t stop now! Rarely does a musician repeat a piece for an encore. It’s different, but with the same excellent characteristics as the previous piece. We see something similar – not to mention successful and satisfying – in second careers. How does one start an encore career? Lois Wallace described the path to hers as serendipitous. After many years working in all areas of the fl oral industry in California, including teaching design courses at the community college level and owning a fl ower shop, she was looking forward to traveling. A much-anticipated trip to Scotland was in danger of being canceled due to the tour leader’s illness. Group members scheduled to travel with Lois told her that she had the skills to plan the trip. Her efforts successfully saved the tour. But perhaps more importantly, the experience affirmed that with the combination of her passion and knowledge for travel, she could take the steps to become a professional travel planner. Thus, a new career was born. Chris Owens’ fi rst career was as head of security for a retail chain with over 5,000 employees. He said every employee had to embrace tight security policies. The road to accomplishing that was not through Building on experience: Finding an encore career Mrs. Torrey’s “Second Act” answers her “Now What?” question. RETIREMENT NOW WHAT? intimidation, but rather by using his people skills to create an atmosphere of rapport and teamwork. With a career in security, the encore career he took up after retirement may seem to be an unlikely choice. Chris is now a massage therapist specializing in rehabilitation. What’s the connection? He explained that when he was a high school student, his father, who had contracted polio, was slowly recuperating at home. Chris realized that massaging his feet and legs provided some relief from his discomfort, and this became part of their regular routine. So, many years later, he felt a strong pull to practice massage therapy. “When I work on someone now, I honor my father,” Owens said. His advice to others searching for an encore career is to “stay within your strengths.” Teresa Torrey recently became the of fi ce manager at Valley Lutheran High School. So many of the skills she developed through her experiences in 40 years of grocery store management have transferred to her new role. It is instinctive for her to see what needs to be done and fi nd the most ef fi cient way to do it, because that was what made her successful., as she describes her former career, “A woman in a man’s world.” As an of fi ce manager, she adds in the public relations element because she is the fi rst person a family or student sees when they walk into the of fi ce. She also nurtures teenagers on a daily basis, gives them insights about their education based on her real-world experiences, and refers to her own Christian school background. Who encouraged her to retire from her grocery store job and apply for this one? Her sons. They are students at the high school and saw her as a great fi t for the position, and the timing was perfect. The next time you ask, “Now what?”, dream big. You never know what will inspire an encore career. EVER STOP EING YOU. The Terraces of Phoenix in Phoenix, Arizona, is managed by ABHOW, a California nonprofit public benefit corporation. ABHOW is a nonsectarian corporation, serving seniors through quality retirement housing since 1949. Looking for a community where you can create your own beat? You’ve found it. Live worry-free with friendly folks who want the same things: happiness and security without pretense. It’s easy. It’s The Terraces. Welcome home. 7550 N. 16th Street Phoenix, AZ 85020 ExperienceTOP.com Call 1-888-817-9169 to schedule a visit.