Entering the sprawling main hall of Women’s Conference 2009 in Long Beach on Monday, what was first noticeable were the humongous, cultish banners that adorned all the upper walls. At about 15-by-30, each featured an Andy Warhol-like portrait of a speaker with a singular name underneath. Madeleine Albright was simply “Madeleine” and — hopefully for the first and last time — was stuck between “Ashton” (Kutcher) and “Katie” (Couric).
Lowering my eyes to scan the floor of the room, I witnessed a jumbled mess of exhibits hawking purses, jewelry, clothes and makeup, including Genie serum that promised to erase “10 years in two minutes,” which was doing a brisk business. Sure, there were booths geared toward charity and economic empowerment, but none were as popular as the Lean Cuisine tasting center (like anyone there hadn't tried LC before) or the charm-bracelet display.
To top it all off, the loudspeakers were blasting a speech by Jillian Michaels seemingly entitled “Listen to Your Feelings.” Within an hour, the sheer propensity and enormity of my eye-rolls had nearly resulted in a sprained optical nerve.
Walking past both the Hot Flashes Pajamas booth and the complimentary bra fitting station (not making those up), I found the Paula Deen presentation. Mizz Paula holds a special place in my heart because her accent, demeanor and appearance are eerily reminiscent of my own mother. Not only does she use “y’all” liberally but she properly pronounces the word “div-oar-ced.” Her message at the conference? “If you’ve got a passion, nothing can stop you.”
Oh Lord, y’all. Even Paula was uninteresting.
I wondered if all participants have to surrender their butt-kicker credentials at the door. The only comic relief during Deen's presentation was offered by the unintentionally hilarious interviewer Martha Beck who at one point cheerfully offered, “You can do the laundry in a state of fear or in a state of inspiration!” and later called Deen a “big ball of fun.”
Maybe it was just me. Maybe my years at a women’s college made me some sort of “feminisnob” because I was surprised that a women’s conference seemed to relegate substantive information to the outer crust of the event, while the center was filled with pink goo in the form of a large Barbie display and manicure station.
I left Monday night and ranted to my best friend from college about having to attend The Emotional Nerf Conference.
All that changed Tuesday when David Gregory from “Meet the Press” moderated a panel that included Madeleine Albright. The discussion began with a “Meet the Press” clip from some 20 years ago. In it, the host basically said that women are the master manipulators of men and asked Gloria Steinem why we don’t bend the minds of husbands and sons to get the freedom we want. (Even in that ostensible Den of Objectivity — the press room — groans and laughter rang out.)
Gregory turned to Albright, who said such a question would not even be asked today and if it did, “The answer might begin with an ‘F.’” Hells yeah! Finally! Someone was speaking in sentences that couldn’t be embroidered on a pillow. Although her later statement — “I think there’s a special place in hell for women who don’t help each other” — would look lovely in cross stitch.
The day just got more interesting from there. Who better than the unapologetically brilliant (and bankrupt) Annie Leibovitz to discuss the importance of controlling one’s own finances? And how about a session on grief that included Patrick Swayze’s widow? Or hearing Somaly Mam, child prostitute-turned-activist, discuss the ways in which people can make their voices heard? Tuesday was truly fascinating.
Taken as a whole, the conference organizers (headed up by California first lady Maria Shriver) threw so many options into the mix — dolls and congresswomen, beauty creams and media moguls, diet foods and activists — that there was something for everyone. Even this feminisnob.
Vive la différence!
Sounds as though I should have been there too...teaching hair tricks of the trade!!!
Posted by: Scott | October 31, 2009 at 12:26