Etiquette for parents, non-parents and would-be parents

I lucked out when I became a parent.  I had my kids at the same time many of my friends were having theirs and while this made those early years a lot more fun, it also spared me (and them) from the social minefield that sometimes occurs within a group of friends when one becomes a parent and "breaks up the band".

I always wanted to be a mother and knew that it would happen eventually so I enjoyed several years of career development, travel, sleep, dating and partying safe in the knowledge that one day I would be ready to put aside my dancing shoes for something different, something with staying power.

During these years, colleagues would have babies and bring them into the office for viewing and while I'd ooh and aah along with everyone else, I was in such a different head space that much of it seemed obligatory and after ten minutes or so, I'd wonder back to my office to think about the weekend's plans.

These days my weeknights and weekends tend to revolve around my kids - helping them with homework, going to the dollar store for project supplies, attending birthday parties and ferrying them to swimming, karate, soccer and other activities.  When I do go out with girlfriends, it's usually a quick lunch squeezed in between our respective appointments and we seem to talk mostly about parenting.  It's not that we're incapable of more sophisticated conversation; it's just that we're at a stage in life where parenting is important and all-encompassing and that's where the discussion usually gravitates.  There is an unspoken assumption that we will eventually move out of this stage and resume our life of partying, albeit aboard a seniors river cruise.

Not all my friends have children.  I have some friends who have chosen not to have children and others who would like to become parents but haven't been successful so far.  Finding conversation that works for everyone is a bit of a delicate balance.  For example, several years ago, I spent an afternoon with four old friends.  At the time, four of us had babies and one was happily child-free.  The parents were swapping war stories of sleepless nights and endless exhaustion and after a while our childless friend snapped, "If having children is so unpleasant, why did you even bother?" A chill set over the conversation before I gently explained that what may seem like complaining was really a way of bonding and coping with the challenges of new motherhood.  Her question was rude but she had a point and we hadn't realized we had been excluding her.

I can chat endlessly about my children with friends who have kids the same age and they are usually happy to indulge me because they are experiencing many of the same issues and have the same concerns and they're thankful to share ideas and solutions.  However, when I get together with friends whose kids are much older than mine, we don't spend much time on parenting.  They have already passed through the stages I am experiencing and they are dealing with other challenges like missing a child who has gone off to university. We politely ask after each other's offspring and either reminisce about past years or look forward to future years and then move on.

I'm sure my tales of getting an eight-year-old to do his homework are boring and tedious to my friends who have chosen to remain childless and likewise, I often can't relate to their stories and how they fill their time but that doesn't mean I don't ask.  When friends connect, I think it's prudent to at least ask for an update on the people and things that are precious to them, whether that's children, pets or their latest dance club exploits before moving on to mutually interesting topics.

It's also good to remember that prattling on about kids can be difficult for friends who want to be parents but for whom it hasn't happened yet. When I was expecting my second child, a friend who had been trying to have a baby for several years told me that she found it hard to spend time with me.  I wasn't offended.  I appreciated her honesty and felt sadness that something that came so easy to me was frustrating, even heartbreaking for her.  I respected her position and while I don't assume all women who are trying to conceive feel the same way, it has made me more cognizant of how I talk to people who are going through this.

Photos are another touchy subject.  Although we've never actually set official guidelines, my close circle of parent friends don't inundate each other with photos capturing our children's every stage.  We slip them in holiday cards and very occasionally email a proud moment but we don't pull out photo albums during dinner.  We love each other and, by extension, we love each others kids but the truth is most parents are just as bored as non-parents with oversharing.

I'll close this post with a plea for non-judgement.  We live in a culture that currently celebrates babies and motherhood, where celebrities grace magazine covers just for getting pregnant and the baby products industry is worth $30 billion.  With all this, it's easy to assume that parenthood is the only route to happiness for women and that's just ridiculous.  There are countless ways to have a rich, rewarding, full life and having children is just one of them.  If you have friends who have chosen not to reproduce, respect their choices and don't presume that your life is more meaningful than theirs. Likewise, I expect my childless friends to respect my choices and to accept that, while I love catching up with them, my schedule is not as flexible and I'm more inclined to go home after dinner than to continue the night elsewhere.

Are you guilty of Death by PowerPoint?

I created the ghastly image above in exactly four minutes using the full range of PowerPoint's handy-dandy text, image and design options.  It's an extreme example to be sure but will not be completely foreign to anyone who has worked in an office environment in the past decade.

You may already be familiar with the phrase, Death by PowerPoint, and while there have been no confirmed cases of people who have actually expired while enduring a PowerPoint presentation, workplaces across the universe are rife with stories of people who metaphorically died, or at the very least, stated that they would rather die, than sit through yet another boring slide show. Not surprising when you consider that 30 million slide-driven presentations are delivered every day.

Toronto communicator Eric Bergman tackles the PowerPoint epidemic, its most common symptoms and potential cures, in his new book, 5 Steps to Conquer Death by PowerPoint.  The book chronicles PowerPoint's journey from shiny new software to boardroom staple, examines the underlying assumptions and misconceptions that force us to choose bullets over conversations, and provides guidelines for breaking free of our addiction.  More importantly, Eric goes back to the communications principles behind sharing data of any kind and reminds us that, before assembling any presentation, we need to be mindful of the needs and wants of our audience.  He even includes a downloadable Audience Manifesto that you can give to the next presenter you hire.

I am not a huge fan of PowerPoint but I can't say I hate it either.  I am not a natural presenter and in my experience, there are very few people who are capable of taking the stage and delivering information in a way that is informative, passionate, and captivating all on their own.  I approach public speaking with hours of preparation, weeks of rehearsal and tons of butterflies flitting around in my stomach.  Other people have the confidence to "wing it" but even then, only a few of them can truly pull it off and many of them are just confusing the desire to speak about themselves with the ability to inspire an audience.

When I present to a large group, I like the security of a few slides behind me.  They serve as an anchor to calm my nerves and prevent me from rambling or going over my allotted time.  So, for those of us who perform better with slides as a backdrop, Eric's five-step process helps ensures they augment our words rather than detracting from them.  The five steps are:

1. Put your audience first - Focus on two-way symmetrical communications where both the presenter and the audience have their needs met and there is equality between the information being shared and the questions and feedback from the receivers.
2. Structure the conversation - The spoken word thrives in an environment of storytelling even when you're imparting complicated information
3. Minimize visual aids - Question the value of each and every slide and only include visual aids if they supplement your story.  If possible, use flip charts, props or audience participation to bring things to life.
4. Convey your message and your personality - Every presentation needs a message and a call to action but no one will accept it if you are not personally believable.  Relaxed conversation is your best presentation style.
5. Answer questions throughout - Telling people you'll try to make time for questions at the end suggests they are not important.  If you have 20 minutes to present, plan a 10 minute presentation and make conversation a priority.

I liked Eric's inclusion of scientific research on how adults learn, the impact of body language and how we receive and process information.  Rookie and seasoned presenters alike will appreciate his Basic Presentation Framework which I'll be using to structure my next presentation.

In closing I'll admit that I would challenge Eric's assumption that we choose PowerPoint without thinking and just accept that it's the standard way of delivering information.  This may be the case for some users but most communicators I know agonize about whether slide-based presentations are necessary or useful and regularly question their value.  When I was running a PR agency, we often suggested to clients that we present without slides only to have them insist upon a formal presentation complete with paper copies they could scribble notes on.  Some of them urged us to put as much detail as possible on every slide so they could meet at a later date to review them on their own.

As all agency people know, getting clients to embrace modern approaches to communications is not just a matter of education.  Sometimes you just have to wait for them to come around.  But now I'm thinking that sending them Eric's book as a gift might not be a bad idea.  Thoughts?

Why We Need An Undo-Send Button

I'm old enough to remember when there was no e-mail and I have no doubt that it has revolutionized the way we do business and coupled with smart phones, it enables us to work from any place at any time. This is good if you'd rather handle correspondence from your Muskoka dock, but bad if you're expected to respond to e-mails during your daughter's dance recital.

But e-mail's greatest benefit - quick and easy communication - is also its biggest downfall because it doesn't account for the limitations of the human brain. While some of us can manage multiple tasks at once, research has shown that none of us do it well, and with the same kind of attention to detail we would apply to single tasks. And with many people juggling multiple email accounts, Twitter handles, Facebook pages and Blackberry messenger contacts, it's inevitable that eventually, a mistake will be made and the wrong message will be sent to the wrong person. If you have done this, you know that it creates an extremely uncomfortable situation, for both the sender and the recipient.

I had my own e-mail mishap several years ago. A situation had been annoying me for a while and rather than dealing with it in a mature and forthright way, I chose to kvetch to someone else by e-mail, only I accidentally sent it to the subject of my aggravation. While the message was more factual than gossippy it was still derogatory and was the kind of content that belonged in a private conversation, not an electronic missive. I realized my gaffe about a nanosecond after I hit Send and the ensuing physical reaction was quite remarkable. Within two minutes, my heart was pounding, my palms were sweaty, a hive-like crimson flush was breaking out across my face and an unprintable string of profanity was coming out of my mouth. I believe it was the modern-day equivalent of the fight or flight response our neanderthal ancestors experienced when confronted by a hungry sabre-tooth tiger. Our bodies send out a shot of adrenaline to help us deal with a perceived danger but while the caveman used the adrenaline to hurl a spear at the tiger or high-tail it out of there, my adrenaline just collected and pooled in the pit of my stomach until I felt quite sick.

In my panic, I immediately sent a quickly-crafted apology email which acknowledged my guilt but didn't do anything to repair the damage or address the underlying issues. At the time, I had just finished reading The FourAgreements by Don Miguel Ruiz. If you haven't read this book, I recommend it. It's a quick, light read and helps you put life's ups and downs in perspective. In short, the four agreements are 1. Be impeccable with your word, 2. Don't take anything personally, 3. Don't make assumptions and 4. Always do your best.

Since the text was fresh in my mind, I decided to apply it to the matter at hand. Obviously I had failed miserably at Agreement #1 as I had used my words carelessly but I was determined to rectify the situation in a more appropriate way. Ruiz spends almost an entire chapter on apologies and the fact that humans are the only species who relive a mistake over and over. His advice, (which is infinitely easier said than done) is to apologize quickly and sincerely and then let it go. The rest is up to the other person. So, tail between my legs, I went to see the recipient of my misfired e-mail and apologized, in person. While she accepted my apology with grace, it took a while for us to rebuild our relationship and it actually took a similar mistake on her part for it to return to normal, our mutual errors having cancelled each other out to the point that neither existed anymore and the air was finally cleared.

There are many lessons here - address issues before they get out of hand, don't use e-mail to deliver sensitive information, always double-check the To and CC boxes before you send but in my experience, most people only make a mistake like this once. The experience is too traumatic to be repeated.

Handling Awkward Situations With Class

In a truly cringe-worthy spectacle, back-from-obscurity talk show host Kathy Lee Gifford made a spectacular faux pas yesterday while interviewing Martin Short.  After pronouncing his marriage a showbiz success story, she asked him how many years he had been married and other lighthearted questions like how he keeps things romantic with his wife.

While it's true that Martin and his wife Nancy Dolman were married for 36 years, the sad truth is that she passed away from ovarian cancer in 2010.

There were many ways that Short could have handled this extremely awkward situation and no one would have judged him if he had become irate, but he chose to be a class act and show us all a thing or two about grace under pressure.  He answered her questions and moved on without correcting her.  Short is a seasoned professional who knows how to think on his feet and while I don't know what was going through his mind, he probably decided that informing the hapless Kathy Lee that his wife was dead on live TV would only make it worse for everyone.

After the segment, Kathy Lee apologized to Short on Twitter but I'm hoping she took the time to do it in person as well.  And, I'm sure there's a researcher at the Today Show who is dusting off his or her resume this morning.

On the other side of the spectrum, at an awards ceremony I attended last night, someone was called up to the stage to present an award.  When the MC handed her the microphone, she explained to him that he had pronounced her last name incorrectly and informed him of the correct pronunciation.  The MC was obviously uncomfortable and under the circumstances, the correction seemed unnecessary. It was a long night and it's unlikely that the paths of these two people will cross again.

While most of us will never have to deal with questions about a deceased spouse on live television, we could all learn from Martin Short on how to handle someone's gaffe with aplomb.

Is it still rude to wear a hat indoors?

But it's part of my outfit...


I was at a business event the other night with about 200 other people.  The guest speaker was great and the topic was relevant but throughout the night, I was distracted by something that other people may not have noticed - a young man wearing a fedora indoors.

The 'No Hats Inside Rule' was strictly enforced in my childhood home and is so ingrained in my psyche that when someone violates this etiquette guideline, it just feels wrong, like snow in summer or a cheerful DMV employee.

I have carried over this particular rule to my own home and family.  My kids and their visiting friends know they are not allowed to wear their hats inside and absolutely must remove them for meals. If I'm out for dinner with my peers and one keeps a hat on during the meal, I would never ask them to remove it (that would be rude) but it will annoy me for the duration. Of course, that is my problem, not theirs.

But times change and well-intentioned rules are relaxed or abandoned all together for reasons of practicality or enlightenment. The rule of removing hats indoors was established decades ago when men regularly wore hats outside to protect them from the elements.  They removed the hat indoors so that the elements (rain, dirt, etc.) did not fall onto meals or other people.  Where did they put their hats?  Well they probably checked them with a coat attendant who knew how to properly store them so they didn't get smushed.  It's unlikely that the same service is available today in most establishments.

Today, hats are a fashion statement for both genders and can be such a part of one's "look" that asking someone to remove their hat is akin to suggesting that they take off their shoes.  There are other things to consider.  Many of the etiquette rules that formed the North American approach to acceptable social behaviour were written at a time when the population (or at least the ruling class) was homogeneous in terms of religion and therefore, didn't take into account the need to observe the customs of faith by wearing hats or head coverings indoors.  The Emily Post Institute notes this in its updated, more modern list of acceptable places to wear hats, as well as the fact that cancer patients need not worry about this rule.

So, like so many other "old-fashioned" guidelines, the "no hat" rule will probably fall by the wayside in the next few years for reasons that include an embrace of different cultures and a general relaxation of appropriate attire.  I can accept that, but I don't think I will ever be able to stomach a baseball hat worn indoors at any time.

What do you think?  Do you have guidelines about hats in your home?  Does it annoy you when a man doesn't remove a fedora indoors?  Would you even notice?

How About Some RFP Etiquette?

So, did we win?

The Request for Proposal (RFP) is popular these days.  With shrinking budgets and increased pressure to demonstrate due diligence, more organizations are issuing RFPs to ensure they choose the right external partner, or at least create the perception of doing so.  When consultants choose to participate in an RFP process, they do so knowing that they may not win and even if they do, they will probably never recoup the hours of unpaid time they spent responding to the proposal.  When the search ends, there will be one winner and multiple losers but all candidates should be treated with respect, honesty and professionalism.  If organizations insist on using RFPs, I'd like to see them adopt these etiquette guidelines for issuing, managing and closing the process:

1. Be honest - I recently reviewed an RFP that painted a rosy picture of a company but a quick Google search revealed the organization was in a shambles. Why hide this?  No one can prepare a thorough, appropriate response if they don't have the necessary background and context.

2. Share your process - RFPs are a ton of work so help people decide if it's worth participating. Share your plans for decision-making - the deadline for proposal submission, what should be included, when the shortlist will be announced, what is involved in phase 2, when you will make your final decision and how you will inform participants.  If an incumbent has been invited to participate, be honest about that.  It's important.


3. Don't kick tires - Most of the research, writing and collation of RFPs is done after hours and on top of an existing work load.  Don't issue an RFP unless you have the budget and the intention of hiring an external partner. Nothing is more frustrating than putting hours of unpaid time into a proposal only to find out that you've decided to manage your campaign "in house".

4. Answer questions thoroughly - If candidates have questions for clarification, take the time to provide proper answers.  The best approach is to collect all of the questions and combine both questions and answers in one document.  One-word answers or responses like "whatever you think is best", "anything goes" or "wow us" are unacceptable.

5. Don't ask for ideas - It's unrealistic to expect anyone to provide creative, feasible ideas based on a couple of paragraphs in your RFP.  Phase 1 is about qualifying candidates, and looking for expertise, experience, case studies, references, etc.  If you narrow the pool to a shortlist, meet with them to provide the information they need to develop workable ideas. Better yet, wait until you've actually hired someone.


6. Remove the guessing game - If you have a budget (and you should if you're serious), share it, or at least include a range. If consultants have no idea what they're working with, it's impossible to provide the best case studies and references and brainstorm appropriate ideas.  


7. Avoid the revolving door - It's efficient to book several presentations on one day but try to hold them in a room with two doors or leave time between visits.  It's awkward for everyone when candidates meet each other in the hallway.

8. Practice proper follow-up - No one should ever find out they didn't win an RFP in AdNews.  Acknowledge receipt of all proposals and honour the dates in your initial process. If you are delayed for some reason, let people know when they can expect to hear from you again.  When you choose a winner, inform the unsuccessful parties before making any announcements.

9. Use only what you pay for - I recently participated in an RFP which stated that all submitted ideas, even from consultants who didn't win the business, would automatically become the property of the issuing company.  Why should they?  If you choose a partner and start to pay them, you can use their ideas but it's unethical to use creative ideas from an agency you didn't select.

10. Give feedback - If someone has spent hours of unpaid time responding to your RFP, they deserve more than a cursory dismissal.  Let unsuccessful candidates know where they fell short and provide candid feedback to help them with future proposals. If you have been honest and professional about your RFP process, you should have no problem articulating how you made your final decision and what they could have done better.

Is Profanity Really As Bad As All That?

Bleep, bleep...


I ventured to a clearance outlet store yesterday.  I usually try to avoid these places, not out of snobbery, but because I hate the long lineups that seem to be a fixture in any retail outlet that promises to save, save, save you money.  But, I needed something that is out of season and therefore, unavailable in "normal" stores.  I found what I was looking for quickly and joined a line of about 20 people waiting to be served by one cashier.  The wait was unpleasant, the surroundings were unattractive and the temperature was stifling but since I anticipated as much ahead of time, I settled in and read the news on my Blackberry to pass the time.  Aside: what did people do to alleviate boredom before smartphones?

When I was second from the front, a customer arrived out of nowhere laden down with purchases and promptly walked up to the cashier.  The man in front of me, with a heavily pregnant wife in tow, told her loudly that there was a line and she belonged at the back of it.  She looked around and murmured sweetly that she didn't notice there was a line.  Personally, I think she was faking it and taking her chances but no matter, she shuffled to the back, professing her innocence all the way.

When it was his turn to go to the cash, the loud man seemed agitated and jumpy.  From what I could see, he was trying to negotiate a transaction that was either outside of the store's policies or that the cashier was unable or unwilling to complete.  In the meantime, a second cashier arrived back from her lunch break so I was served immediately.  As I was paying for my purchase, I could sense that things were getting quite heated over at the other cash station as the man's irritation bubbled over and a few seconds later, he yelled, "Bleep this.  I'm so sick of this bleeping bullshit.  This is the reason I waited in the bleeping line for so bleeping long" and marched out of the store.

For a rare moment, everyone was silent - the employees, the people in the lineup and the other shoppers milling around the store - and just stared slack-jawed at the man, unsure if their ears had deceived them.  Somewhat unwisely, the cashier left her post to chase after him yelling, "Swearing is not tolerated in our store under any circumstances.  You can't treat me like that".  While the people still in line seemed sympathetic, I don't think they appreciated having to wait even longer while she attempted to avenge the injustice.

My own cashier was quite taken aback and I had to wait a few minutes while she composed herself.  With my Scottish background, I'm used to profanity-laden outbursts, fueled sometimes, but not always, by an excessive intake of alcohol. I told her that the guy probably just had a bad day and this might have been the final straw and we can never take these kinds of things personally.  She responded with conviction, "A grown man needs to be able to handle himself without using those words."  Anxious to move along, I nodded my head but the thing is, while I care about etiquette and civility, I actually don't find profanity that offensive. I'm not saying we should all give up on polite conversation and start tossing around swear words in every conversation, it doesn't shock or bother me that people resort to it when they're pushed to the limit.  To me, they are just words and they're incredibly uninspired ones at that.  I've known enough amazing wordsmiths in my life who can cut people down to size in a much harsher way without a single four-letter word.  For a great example of this, catch Maggie Smith's portrayal of the Dowager Countess in Downton Abbey.

When people reach this level of anger, they're usually dealing with a bunch of their own stuff and the circumstances that finally send them off the deep end are just the final straw.  The person on the receiving end usually just happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Maybe I'm cutting the guy some slack because I have had my fair share of awful customer service experiences where I too, have felt so belittled and stepped upon that I wondered if swearing like a drunken sailor could be the only thing that gets through to an uncaring store employee.  My husband, who is often on construction sites where handling problems with profanity is the norm, says it's liberating not to have to dance around issues with political correctness and politeness when you can take care of it swiftly with a few choice swear words and move on.

I'm not advocating that workplaces everywhere should adopt an anything goes approach to coarse language.  But, I guess for me, actions speak louder than words.  What's your take?  Are the words important or the fact that someone has been made so angry that they felt they had no choice but to use them?

Is it poor etiquette to sell your unwanted gifts on e-Bay?

 
"I Love It.  It's Just What I Wanted..."

Opening gifts in front of the person who gave them to us, is always a bit nerve-wracking.  As you work away at the wrapping, the gift-giver's anticipation is palpable.  You can just feel their desire for you to love it, their wish that this year, they've hit a home run.  As you get closer to the big reveal, you steel yourself for a case of lunchbox letdown.  If you already have an "appropriate" gift in mind, say an engagement ring, the stakes are even higher and your disappointment will be even greater if what's in the box is not what you expected.  Even if you have no preconceived notions of what you would like, there's still a chance that the present will be hideous, unusable, or inappropriate (in your opinion at least).  To save face and avoid hurt feelings, most of us have perfected our "I love it" gift face over time.  Even if what we're feeling inside is more like, "I won't be caught dead in this thing" we slap on a smile, tell the person it's perfect and give them an appreciative hug.  As a gift-giver, I have been on the receiving end of many of these forced smiles and I can tell you, I always know they're faking and I'm always hurt.

Today, regifting is common and, as long as proper etiquette is followed (e.g. don't give it back to the person who gave it to you), it is considered acceptable social behaviour.  Although I've indulged in regifting impersonal items like chocolates and wine, I've never been able to do it when it involves a gift that someone put an effort into choosing because I know how I feel when the tables are turned.  If someone tells me they'd like to exchange a gift I bought them, I smile, hand over the receipt and mumble something about wanting them to be satisfied but inside, I'm usually quite hurt, especially if I spent a lot of time picking a gift I thought they would love. It's possible that the people who have given me gifts I don't like do not feel the same way.   Maybe they see gift-giving as a crap-shoot and are not offended if someone doesn't like their gift.  Maybe they prefer to have the person exchange it for something they would like over stuffing it into the back of a closet. But, I can only approach it from my point of view and I always take it personally.  Besides, when gifts come from certain people (e.g. my husband), I instantly love it even if it's something I would never choose for myself.  I love it because he picked it and wearing it is symbolic of our relationship.

So I was surprised and saddened to read over the holidays that, while all other retail outlets experience a post-holiday sales slump, e-Bay and kijiji, are swamped with people intent on converting their unwanted Christmas gifts into cash.  Both sites apparently received a steady stream of new posting of electronic and apparel items in the days after December 25th with some people unloading unwanted gifts mere hours after receiving them.  As explained in the previous paragraph, I am somewhat sentimental about gift-giving and that colours my view but to me, there is a certain callousness to this practice that just didn't feel right.  It turns the tradition of gift-giving into a transaction where people believe they deserve to get whatever they want or at the very least, the post-retail cash value of what they received.  One young woman quoted in the article said that she had "earned" $400 last year by converting Christmas gifts into cash and to make unloading unwanted presents easier, e-Bay has created a mobile app that allows disappointed gift recipients to take a picture of something immediately after opening it so they can create an instant listing.

Some would say taking to the Internet to dispose of unwanted goods is a positive development.  Maybe in this over-cluttered age of hyper-consumerism, there's no good reason for us to store things we neither need nor want. If we're going to unload a present anyway, perhaps it's more sensitive to the gift-giver to do it anonymously behind the veil of our e-Bay avatars rather than fess up that we hate it.  I guess, if I really think about it, it's the haste that disturbs me and I'm not alone.  One of my favourite authors, Alexander McCall Smith, suggests we wait at least a month and then, if we still don't want it, give it away or sell it with the proceeds going to charity.  Like me, he's uncomfortable with the notion of selling it purely for profit.

Personally, I don't think we can trust our immediate reactions when it comes to gifts.  We might feel that it's ghastly or wildly inappropriate but maybe we should let it marinate for a while.  I have a few cherished items on my mantle, in my closet and in my jewellery box that were gifts from people who knew me better than I knew myself at the time. I was disappointed when I opened them but I grew to love them and over the years, they have become a connection between me and the gift-givers, some of whom are now deceased.  I would never get to experience that if I had immediately tried to get rid of it.

What do you think about selling unwanted holiday gifts? Smart solution or etiquette faux pas?

Excuse me, you have lipstick on your teeth

A colleague just told me I have lipstick on my teeth and I'm thankful. Imagine my embarrassment if no one had told me and I had walked around all day wondering why people were staring at my mouth. After I wiped it off, we had a chat about the etiquette of letting people know that something is askew with their appearance and whether it's appropriate to mention it to casual acquaintances or even strangers.

I think most of us would prefer to know about a small flaw that's detracting from an otherwise great appearance, if all that's required is a quick fix (e.g. mayonnaise on your cheek, a pant leg tucked into a sock, etc.). As long as you're polite and more importantly, discreet, it's acceptable to raise these things with friends, family, co-workers and acquaintances. I also think we have a responsibility to save strangers from humiliation when possible and generally when I've done this, people have been appreciative. In a coffee shop I once leapt up from my seat to tell a total stranger that she had inadvertantly tucked her skirt into her pantyhose and she almost hugged me. I also once politely informed a man in a drug store that he had some green marker on his nose and chuckling, he told me that it was a permanent mark from a mining accident years earlier. Woops.

More difficult to digest, are the pleasent (or not so pleasant) remarks about appearance gaffs that are more difficult to rectify such as the fact that our clothes have become too tight lately, we're overdue for a pedicure or, my personal favourite: "you look really tired today". These kind of comments are not only unwelcome, they are unnecessary. People are well aware of the fact that they have put on a little weight, didn't get a chance to visit the spa or didn't get enough sleep. They don't need to be reminded by a well-meaning stranger.

If you feel you absolutely have to help someone improve their appearance or demeanour but are too chicken to do it you can always visit http://www.nicecritic.com/. A Palette staffer turned me on to this site which allows you to send anonymous e-mails to people with such one-liners as: a breath mint would be beneficial today, you seem to have overapplied your makeup, and please wear a more updated tie. I read all of the possible lines and concluded that, if I couldn't give someone this kind of advice in person, it wasn't appropriate to share it at all but I can see how it might be beneficial.

What are your thoughts on letting people know how they could "improve"?