A Piece of My Mind

Hello, guys, the Indonesian version of this blog is back by popular demand! Langsung aja ya. Jadi kmaren tuh, sekali-kalinya gw spending the whole Saturday at home (maafin aye kalo masih agak-agak nyampur Londo, bawaan lahir sih bo hahaha, sombong abess!), istirahat total dari pagi sampe malem, walopun setelah abis acara Ustad Yusuf (asli, gw ngefans gini) dan sambil nunggu American Idol, gw akhirnya ngeblog masalah "I" branding itu, so I wasn’t totally resting my mind. Eh, speaking of "I" branding, gw dan Fenny sedang mengembangkan konsep untuk membuka sebuah image building institute, yang sampe sekarang kita belon nemu nama yang tepat (dan berhubung gw concern banget ma branding, masalah ini lagi pusing kita pikirin! So kalo ada ide please share, ‘kay?).

Anyway, Sunday turned out to be quite a fearless day, karena banyak banget kegiatan aneh-aneh yang mungkin ga bakal gw lakuin kalo kondisi otak gw lagi normal senormal-normalnya. Pertama, walopun Sabtunya flu perut gw kambuh, Minggu pagi itu gw craving banget lontong Smansa (asli, cari perkara abis ma usus gw!), jadi gw lantas pergi beneran ke tukang lontong itu. Berhubung deket ma Gleneagles, gw mutusin untuk mampir di situ ngeliat

Rio yang lagi terbaring sakit (bahasanya tabloid abes) dijagain ma Fada, sekalian ngebawain mereka sarapan. Hehe, pas turun mobil gw baru sadar kalo gw blon mandi, cuma pake boardshort ma t-shirt n sandal jepit (image hedon jauuuuuuuuh), tapi yah udah terlanjur di situ, cuek aja la, fearless bo fearless, ga ada wartawan ini (hahaha, narsis banget!).

Dalam perjalanan pulang, ada miskol dari my partner in crime si Fence, ternyata mo ngabarin kalo hari itu dia mo massage ma salon, biasa la kegiatan weekly kami, so gw bilang ntar gw nyusul d. Nyampe di salon, during the whole massage + creambath + blow (btw, kita berdua sepakat kalo ni salon top abess! Hairstylist-nya si Kak Mina itu is a genious, kita ga perlu capek jelasin pengen diapain, dia bisa langsung kreatif sendiri sementara gw ma Fence giggle giggle bitchy, tiba-tiba aja udah jadi persis seperti yang kita bayangin n kita inginkan! Just call Lie Salon at 061-4150924 klo lo lagi di Medan), kita iseng lagi ngelakuin another fearless thing, kalo yang ini sih asli bener-bener fearless: we took some controversial photographs yang kalo diketahui ma media ato paling ga temen kita yang laen d, bakal gawat banget! Penasehat hukum kita Ilsa Syaraf menyarankan agar foto-foto ini sebaiknya segera dimusnahkan atau dibuang jauh-jauh dari peradaban sebelum jatuh ke tangan yang tidak bertanggung jawab hihihi.

Iseng-iseng abis the treatment package, walo emang udah niat banget pengen nye-Startbucks to get our weekly dose of chocolate croissant, kita mutusin untuk nonton. Awalnya sih, pengen ngecengin babe Harrison di Firewall, tapi Cici Fence tiba-tiba tertarik ma pose Jet Li di poster Fearless, n nanya ke mbak penjaga loketnya: "Eh, Fearless itu film apa sih mbak? Bagus ga sih?" Si mbak penjaga loket menatap kita dengan takjub, ni dua cewek tampang penikmat Brad Pitt dan Antonio Banderas tiba-tiba nanya beginian? Dan dia menjawab sedikit tergagap: "Ee … film silat gitu mbak." Gw ikut menatap si Fench: "Serius lo, Fen? Anjrit, gw sekali-kalinya nonton film Cina di 21 pas Kungfu Hustle doang." Dia menjawab yakin: "Ayo la Iks, lucu sekali-sekali wak. Ntar kita giggle - giggle bitchy aja di dalem negebahas jurus silatnya hihihi."

Jadilah kita ngebeli tiket itu. Buat ransumnya, berhubung masih ada waktu stengah jam lagi, kita langsung strolling menuju Starbucks, udah mulai ngiler-ngiler ngebayangin chocolate croissant-nya .. eeeh hasilnya nihil !! Choc-croissnya abis bo !! Hampir nangis tapi ditahan karena malu rame banget !! Trus dengan langkah gontai gw ma fence nyari sasaran croissant berikutnya n dipilihlah Bread Story, yah lumayanlah enak juga. “Ups ! Gw lupa ambil duit bo ! Lo ada kan ?” gw kaget n gw liat muka si Fence jg jadi pucet abis (padahal tadi gw liat dia pake blush-on orange L’oreal andalan jadi berubah pucet kayak pengantin jepang gt), “Omg , gw jg gk ada Iks , tadi kan gw dah beliin tiket”.  Gw langsung meriksa dompet n berkata yakin, “Okeh, gw ada 10 ribu ni let’s check apa yg bisa kita beli dgn duit segini”, Hhaha !! Kocak abiss deh ! Emang dasar gembul , sambil liat2 roti yang lainnya (dan karena emang laper juga) kita yakin banget di bread-story ada mesin gesek menggesek , “kita genapin 50ribu kay ??” dengan yakinnya kita langsung milih-milihin roti yang menggiurkan, kalo perlu makin mahal makin bagus biar genapinnya gampang … jadilah kita ngambil sekitar 10 macam roti yang namanya pun kami susah mengucapkannya tapi tampangnya udah bikin ngiler abis … dengan langkah pasti kami menuju kasir, telah dinantikan dengan antusias oleh mbak-mbak kasir dan tukang bungkus2 rotinya, dan Fence berujar sambil mengumbar senyum: “Mbak, ada gesek kan?” , “wah mbak maaf .. kita blon ada mesinnya” , WAKSS !!  Kami langsung liat-liatan dengan tampang bingung, malu, panik, bercampur laper … Akhirnya Fence gesit menawarkan diri: “Udah Ka, biar gw aja yang lari ke ATM” lantas langsung melesat setelah menitipkan box Espresso Brownies Starbucks-nya dan Grande Caramel Macchiato-nya, masih diikuti tatapan bengong mbak-mbak Bread Story yang lantas berujar kagum plus bingung ke gw: “Eh mbak … atm-nya jauh banget loh, di ujung sana …”  Trus gw senyum-senyum n jawab: “Hehe, iya ya, gapapa mbak, dia larinya kenceng …. Hihihi.”  Saat berdiri mati gaya menunggu juara sprint sahabat gw itu kembali, tiba-tiba hp gw bergetar-getar, dan masuklah SMS singkat tapi bermakna dalam dari Fence :”OMG .. cpk bo.”  Gw langsung ngakak sehingga mbak-mbaknya kembali melirik ke gw: “Napa mbak?”  Dan gw menjawab sambil membalas SMS merana itu: “Hihihi, katanya dia capek hihihi.” , akhirnya si fence nyampe dengan hitungan 6 menit 10 detik !!  “waaah .. kayak flash lo fench !” , ttp dengan ggbnya “capeeek ka .. hihihi” , setelah bayar semuanya kita langsung melesat ke bioskop n beli minuman ringan + chitato (sori pembaca , sebagai informasi aja, perut kita emang perut karet) , nyampe di dalem dengan diapit dua couple dikanan n dikiri kita mulai cekakak-cekikik gak jelas ngebahas kejadian2 tadi n mulai berisik buka kantongan yang banyak banget n bagi2 apa aja yg udah dibeli.  Bukan hanya masalah coklat lelehan dari roti Bread Story yang bertebaran di baju kita, tapi juga komentar-komentar ga penting atas semua adegan di film itu yang bikin kita ketawa setengah mati sampe si Fence sempet hampir harus dikasi Heimlich manuever gitu karena keseleg berat.

Film dimulai … dari awal kita udah geli n pesimis filmnya bakal bagus , dimulai dari text bilingualnya yang buat pusing (karena kebaca dua kali eng-ind) , ngebahas 5 oclock shadow yang udah jadi 12 oclock shadow (ini sebenernya film Cina atau film tentang Elvis sih?!), trus filmnya yang ribut banget dengan adegan ‘ciaaaat ciaaaaat – nya’ fiuuuh .. tapiii .. lama kelamaan kita mulai asik dengan alur ceritanya yang sedih banget (walau sambil nonton adegan-adegan mengharukan itu, kita malah sibuk kriuk2 ngunyah chitato sambil agak2 bengong dikit, beda dengan cewek di sebelah Fenny yang udah nangis bombay kayak adegan pas bini Shahrukh Khan mati di Kuch Kuch Hota Hai) , jet li yang dari kecil pengen banget pinter bela diri tapi gak boleh ma bokapnya karena dia asma (anjrit !! menohok ..), ampe dia udah gede jadi jago banget Wu shu (walaupun kita gak tau kapan dia belajarnya) , punya anak yang lucu banget , trus adegan yang paling sedih waktu nyokap n anaknya dibantai habis ma kaki tangan Master Qin =salah satu musuhnya (gile ! gw masi inget bo !) untuk balas dendam karena Master Qin dibunuh oleh Hua yunjia (Jet li). ckck .. filmnya emang hebat .. apalagi waktu ‘my sweet Samurai’ beraksi … huaaaa cakep banget !   Saking cakepnya, saat si Samurai ini muncul di layar, si Fence langsung heboh ngeluarin Dopod dan sambil cekikikan kita nyoba untuk moto-moto tampang si Ganteng (walalupun hasilnya agak2 blurry dan kayaknya udah mulai dipelototi aneh oleh orang2 di sekeliling kita, tapi who cares?!!!). Jadi bagi yang ada niat nonton untuk waktu dekat ini , mending “Fearless” aja deh , daripada “Memoirs of Geisha” karena basi abessss n lo bakalan ngantuk .

Kluar dari bioskop dan setor dikit di toilet, kita kembali melangkah ke ATM (untuk menghindari insiden lari2 yang kedua kalinya kalo kurang duit lagi hihihi), dan lantas menuju ke toko DVD langganan kita … dan saat sedang duduk sambil milih2 DVD, oh my God, kita baru sadar, plastik belanjaan Bread Story kita banjeeeeer!!!  Tergenang air, kena tumpahan botol Aqua yang ternyata tutupnya ga rapet (sori ya Fen), jadinya semua roti2 itu becek2 squishy gitu … ewww, itu pun udah mo diembat aja ma si Fence. Umm pokoknya wiken ini acara kita panjang n aneh2 .. (ewww… bayangin deh kalo panjang trus aneh .. hihi).  Hidup fearless!

My nose was runny at the office one day that I said to my friend, "Could you hand me the Kleenex?"  Without even looking away from her computer screen, she reached across the desk and passed me a box of tissue, and yes, we’re not in the States, so she was actually handing me a Paseo instead of a Kleenex.

Kleenex is one of the world’s greatest brand, with a power not to just dominant the market, but also to reach the point of commitment in which the customers actually felt a proximity, an intimacy, and a deep loyalty towards the brand to the degree that the word Kleenex actually became a generic name for tissue.  A few other brands have also enjoyed this society gratification.  The words "Just post-it your comments on the documents" or "I need you to Xerox this before the presentation" or even "The baby needs to have her Pampers changed" are used more and more in substitute of the words "stick the note", "photocopy", and "diapers."  Nicholas Kochan wrote in his book The World’s Greatest Brand that brands impact enormously, not only on the company which owns them, but also on the wider society in which they operate and in which they are enjoyed.  A great brand serves not only as a marketing icon but also as a powerful emotional tool.  People are still ordering Cokes or wearing Nike shoes not just because they trust the quality of these two market leaders, but also because these loyal customers somehow feel emotionally attached to those brands.

Branding has this unbelievable power to repackage an abundance of perceptions, attitudes, behavior, and experiences that the people have on a name or a product into something unique to which they relate.  Volvo equals the safest ride on earth.  Benetton is commonly perceived as a representation of racial harmony through its matching of colors.  McDonald’s defines fast food.  Nike is worn by champions.

Let’s look at the case of the latter.  Nike was brilliantly named after the Greek goddess of victory, which now leads it to become a top-of-the-mind brand in the sporting goods industry.  It’s famous for taglining its advertising campaign "Just Do It" - encouraging everyone from athletes to average Joes and Janes like us to live the competitive spirits-, but my favorite is its latest tagline: "Why Sports?"  In this commercial, a woman was shown coming home from a workout with an axe murderer with a freaky ski mask waiting at her house.  Shocked and panicked, she immediately ran for her life, scrambling through the woods in her Nike, while the psycho kept running after her.  But only a minute of chase, the axe murderer started gasping for breath, and finally gave up the chase while the woman kept running and running away.  The tagline then reads: "Why Sports?  You’ll live longer."   The brilliance of this commercial lies in the fact that it’s not directly selling Nike, but it’s actually emphasizing on sports.  But they know the mind of the consumers all too well because encouraging sports equals selling Nike.

While we’re very well aware of the depth of these greatest brands, can we also manage our image the way the companies are managing their brands?  How do we reach a point where we become a household name, recognized by the whole world only by first name basis, like Brad, Angelina, Jen, Oprah, and Tom?  Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, let’s just start with the simplest question of self-image management: how do you want to package yourself to get the wanted perception from the society around you?  Let me introduce you to the art of "I" branding.

Kochan said in his book that the brand-building process begins by understanding and anticipating the needs and desires of consumers and the key attributes of the product.  Although also deals with society’s perception and individual attributes, "I" branding is not about matching the desires and needs of the consumers with the person’s attributes.  "I" branding is much more narcissistic than that.  It’s about communicating your vision, individuality, views, and attributes in such a way so friends, acquaintances, or society in general will see you as one unique person, as a brand. 

While consumer products are developed to respond to the needs of the consumer - in which the packaging, the marketing concept, and the image are shaped to fit the society’s expectations -, your self-image is totally the opposite of that.  Branding consumer product means identifying with the market behavior.  Branding "me" means identifying myself the way I want the market to perceive me.  Coke, for example, responded to the growing habit of healthy living by introducing Diet Coke and caffeine-free Coca Cola.  If society wants "Ika" to be quieter and less opinionated, I will not immediately reshape my image to live up to that expectation, because the quiet Ika is not the "me" brand that I want to portray.  The power of "I" branding lies in the commitment to stick to the individual’s core values.

Core values are the motives behind your vision and the depth of your individual attributes.  These are the values that guide your thoughts, shape your behaviors, and define your presence.  How the "I" branding is interdependence with my core values is very obvious: society sees me from my appearance, views, thoughts, and behaviors.  The "I" branding is a genuine representation of my image and personality.  The "Ika" that I want society to see is an independent, smart, fun, chic, and pretentious female, because those are the five core values that construct my personality.  These five core values shape my outer image and identifies my inner being.  Although the "Ika" brand is not necessarily widely accepted in the market, that’s not the main point.  The significance of "I" branding is creating your own market, an elite group of society that enjoys your brand and later becomes a devotee.  Pardon me for sounding too pretentious, but these are the people who mingle easily with you, who respect your thoughts, love your presence, and even admire your personality.  Unlike a consumer brand, the challenges of "I" branding do not lie in penetrating and expanding the market, but in keeping and maintaining the existing market.  I must constantly live up to their expectations, because the occasional slip up of being dumb or boring will immediately cause my people (again, sorry for sounding too self-centered) to say: "What’s wrong with you?  That’s is sooo not Ika."  But because their expectations are actually my own core values, it’s not hard at all to fulfill, right?

I realize that I’m not a marketing guru or a psychologist, but I believe "I" branding has managed to brilliantly collides the basic concept of psychology with the advanced adaptation of marketing.  "I" branding begins with self-discovery, continues through image portrayal and self brand management, and literally never ends.  It does not just put yourself out on the market, but it also continues to encourage you to grow as a person and to be honest to your true-self. 

Now tell me, what is your brand?

The curse of my egocentric mind constantly leads me to think that I know everything and I can do everything by myself, that I understand everything, I practically don’t have to listen to anybody else, that I know more so other people’s opinions mean nothing to me.  But the fact is, yes I know Loebbecke and Soros, Jung and Freud, Myers and Briggs, Welch and Trump, even Aristotle and Descartes, but when it comes to life, I know nothing.  Not a single, tiny thing.  Ask me about what’s gonna happen tomorrow, or even 5 minutes from now, and I can guarantee this: the smart, know-all, demeaning, self-centered me will not be able to give you an absolute answer.  Everything is blurry, full of indefinite uncertainty, surrounded by the unknown.

While my secret society of confidants is always ready to share their words of wisdom, they’re not always able to give me a cup of comfort.  I could spend hours talking to them, listening to their every word, enjoying their company and warmth, but why do I still feel hollow? So one night, I totally couldn’t sleep, even though I have closed my eyes and turned off the light.  No one to talk to, and no one to call, well it’s already two in the morning, who’s gonna pick up the phone, right?  So I did something that I never did before: having a conversation with God.

I spilled all of my burden, thoughts, and problems, talking to Him in my heart, and I was totally aware that this would be a one-sided conversation.  It’s not like talking to your friends where they can respond to you directly, where they can cut you in the middle, where they can hug you when you start to shiver.  It’s a whole new thing.  I just laid there, speaking to Him in my mind, let it all out, and miraculously, everything just felt better.  I don’t even know how to explain it with words, but it’s like this, more or less: I felt something warm on my chest (it’s something like the feeling of relieve), and there’s just this … how can I say this … well, it’s just like I became very well aware that although the answers were not spoken to me directly in that exact moment, I believe that the answers will come in forms of guidance, coincidences arranged by God, and you know, I just believe that everything will be okay.  That’s a very unexplainable but miraculous feeling, if you ask me.

How did I arrive at this, I don’t even know.   I was not and still am not a very religious person, although I try to do better nowadays.  My rekindling with God has not always been smooth: I was religiously raised as a kid, but grew up to be some kind of a rebel, skipped most of the daily prayer, only came to Him when I needed Him, and totally ignore the religious obligations when I didn’t Him.  It’s not atheism, it’s more like: okay, I believe there’s God, but I could do things more by actually making my own effort than asking Him for guidance and help.  Selfish, ignorance, egocentric, all of the above.  But how smart, how rich, how beautiful, and how satisfied can you be without something called self-fulfillment in your heart?  How far can you go without reaching to the point, to a crossroad, where you feel hollowness in your soul?  When you start asking question: what does my life mean?  When you start to wonder: why am I given a chance to wake up this morning and the next morning and the next morning?  Does my breathing really carry a significant meaning?  Do I actually have something to hold on to when everything else fails?

Ask me all of those questions, I still can’t provide you with a satisfying answer.  But then life is not about answering all of those questions.  Life, I truly think, is about finding the meaning, discovering guidance, finding a hand to hold you while you’re searching for answers.  Life is about finding God.

I was, and still am, and never will be a perfect person.  From time to time, I will lose the meaning, the spirit, and the guidance.  But the beauty and the comfort lie in the belief that when everything else fails, He will never fail me.

“By the morning hours, And by the night when it is stilles, Thy Lord hath not forsaken thee nor doth He hate thee, And veryly the latter portion will be better for thee than the former, And veryly thy Lord will give unto thee so that thou wilt be content.  Did He not find thee an orphan and protect (thee)?  Did He not find thee wandering and direct (thee)?  Did He not find thee destitute and enrich (thee)?  Therefore the orphan oppresses not, Therefore the bounty of thy Lord be thy discourse.” (Ad Duha: 1-11)

Yes, this bitch does need God.

               "Eh, Ka, lo ma si (censored) ngomongnya udah aku kamu ya?"

                A message window popped up on my screen, and I was shocked, so I replied: "Kok lo tau sih?"

                "Kan tadi gw liat SMS2 di handphone lo," he messaged again.

                And I screamed, "Firmaaaaan!!  Nape lo baca-baca Inbox gueeeee!"

                And he laughed out loud.  "Halah, Ka,  sejak kapan lo rahasia-rahasiaan ma gw."

                I couldn’t help but laughing him.  "Eh laen kali gue gak akan mau lagi minjemin HP ma lo, abis smuanya lo buka-bukain, smuanya lo baca-baca, ga asik banget looooo."

                He laughed even louder.  "Ayo dong Ka, crita doong."

                "Maleeeeees."

                "Percuma lo sembunyiin, percuma, gue tau banget deh elo gimana."

                I have to admit, he does.

Friends come in many forms, shapes, sizes, types, and personality, but there is a set of qualities in some of them that makes you feel comfortable confiding in them.  And when I said some, I really mean only a few, well in my case, I can count them with only one hand.  These are the kind of friends who would listen to you without any precedence or judgments, who would keep your secrets when you tell them to, and who would give you advice without any hidden agenda.

               

I can call myself the most untrusting and self-centered person in the universe, it would take a long while for me to tell someone more private things about me, and honestly I prefer to do and solve everything by myself.  I listened to Vonda Shepard as I wrote this, and a line from her song really caught my attention: "When you feel that you can make it all alone, remember no one is big enough to make it on her own."  That is so totally true, I speak from experience that confiding in a friend does help to soothe my unrest mind and my conflicted soul a little if not a lot more.

But have you ever felt threatened and insecure because of the fact that somebody else in this universe know something secretive about you?  Have you ever felt like an Italian mob and said: "Now that you know this, I have to kill you?"  Hahaha, my five confidants, don’t freak out just yet, I’m not that lunatic.  But  come on, guys, admit it, you are worried sometimes that they’re gonna leak it, right?  Intentionally or not.  Because I do. 

But that’s the beauty of it.  When you confide in someone, you’re actually stepping out of your comfort zone, enlarging your circle of trust, and opening a door to your inner being (I know it sounds like psychological mambo jambo to you, but it’s totally true.  After all this is an accountant speaking to you right now, not a Freudian).  You are taking a risk when you choose your confidant (can he or she actually keep my secret), and when you do it, you don’t actually know whether it’s gonna work out in your way or not (you’re constantly asking yourself: when I reveal all this, would she or he be able to help me see it through?).

Confiding in each other is also a very strong glue that holds some friendship together.  Here’s why: my anonymous best friend and I hold so many of each other’s secret that I said to her, "Oh God, you know so much about me, this is so not healthy, we’d better stay friends forever or this is gonna be a very ugly secret revelation when we fight."  She laughed and said, "Oh yeah, definitely, Iks, I totally can’t handle your disclosure of all the dirts if we break the friendship."

We talked about how ugly it would be when our confidant became our enemy, but are you sure you never want to have a secret society like your circle of confidants?  A secret societ with a very special bond that ties them together: your secrets?  Hahaha, that sounds kinda scary, doesn’t it?  Imagine them ganging up and conspiring against you … wait, why does this suddenly sound so Watergate?  Maybe because it’s already late and I really really need to get some sleep.  Let me just take a few seconds to conclude this.  I just wanna say that no matter how individualistic and untrusting you are, having a confidant or more is actually quite fun, quite upliting, as you learn more about yourself when you speak to real people rather than crying to a wall or talking to mirror (now it reminds me of the movie If These Walls Could Talk or even worst, Snow White hahaha, I really need to turn off this PDA and sleep!!). 

Well, I have my secret society (is it just me or does it remind you of the Priory of Sion in Da Vinci Code?  Sleep, Iks, sleeeeep!) who holds the key to my soul and my heart.  Wanna know who they are so you can dig up the dirts on me?  Try to steal my mobile and look who are on the speed dials

"O body swayed to music, O brightening glance,

How can we know the dancer from the dance?"

- William Butler Yeats

Do you know what makes around 30 percent of TV airtime these days?   Gossip shows, or deceivingly called infotainments do dominate the screen.  And I never quite get the concept behind the name of infotainment.  What the hell is that anyway?  The information that is supposed to entertain you?  Wait, let me rephrase that, the information (or dirt?) about other people that entertains you?

I never give a flying shit about this kind of gossip, but when it starts to hit me and my circle of friends (mentioning us as a clique sounds too exclusive, and I don’t want to sound like the gossipers), I don’t think it’s right to just sit around and do nothing, especially when it became more and more creative: from office affairs, our clubbing habit, to other things that shouldn’t even be mentioned here. 

Gossiping about others is one kind of guilty pleasures that’s just not healthy.  I just think that obsessing about other people’s life is just downright pathetic, don’t they have a life of their own that they should care about?  My psychologist friend Wiwin said that gossiping has become second nature to some people, especially the ones who are insecure about themselves that they think discussing about others are a lot more exciting than talking about themselves.  Jealousy caused by social gap and status differences and lifestyle is also believed as the main engine that starts the gossiping habit.  She suggested that maybe I should lay low and change some things about myself to slow the gossips down a little bit.

And I said: what?  The choices that I made in life are by no means anybody’s business, especially not the ones who are not even that close to me and only passing judgments based on assumptions.  Then my friend Wida said: "It’s like this, Ka.  You’re the kind of person who is socially visible, you know what I mean?"  And I said, "How?"  To which she replied, "Remember when we were both working at the head office in Jakarta, and some of us were immediately recognized by everybody, while the others barely even left any impression?  Well, you’re among the few who actually left a lasting impression."  I said, "Yeah, I know what you’re saying, but what makes me so socially visible?"  She then explained to me so vividly that I literally stopped doing anything but listened to her every word: "One, your looks.  Two, the way you dress.  Three, the way you express yourself.  And oh yeah, I forgot, the fact that you’re smart."  I couldn’t help but laughing!  "Oh yeah, my brain comes last, eh?"  Then she rambled on about my white shirt, my short skirt, my clubbing habit, my social circle, on and on.  "You can’t stop people from noticing you and your clique of friends and making assumptions about your lifestyle.  The ones that know you up close and personal, like me, understand that your external image represents none of your heart and internal actions.  But the ones who just know you from your looks and a quick glance of your circle of friends and your lifestyle might be mislead to make false assumptions.  Remember when we talked about your smoker image?  This is kind of the same thing."

Oh well, image that’s based on false assumptions shouldn’t bother me, so I decided to indulge on one of the guilty pleasures that caused the gossips: clubbing. (I’m actually listening to BBC One’s Pete Tong as I write this, just to get the feeling of parteeeeeeeey!).  So last weekend, my friend Fenny and I planned a night out with our closed circle of friends (yuppies turned clubbers that night were me, Fenny, Kiks, Damar, Getmy, Rina, Ayu, plus some guys that we know) just something that we needed to relieve all the stress of that hectic week.  Sooo TGIF!!   After inviting our friends to our hotel and getting the hype up with some doses of Pete Tong and Ministry of Sound through Kiks’s iPod, we left to Retro just a little bit before midnight.  And just as the first round was done, the DJ kicked up the party with a little bit 50 Cent, and it was crazy, guys!!  The energy was unbelievable!  Can you believe that we danced around for three straight hours and still looked hyped?  I’m telling you, the beat was so hypnotic that my stiletto didn’t kill my feet for once, and I must have chugged down half a dozen bottles of mineral water to keep me from dehydrating (oh yes guys and any gossipers who might read this: I don’t do alcohol, just like I don’t smoke!), even though the guys around me kept offering shots of tequila and illusions.  Hey, who needs alcohol when the sober me is already this crazy?  Hahaha!  From an hour of R n B followed by heavy trance (for a moment there we even felt like we’re in Zouk as Kiks screamed: "Can you feel the vibe?!!").  Oh yeah, definitely!  The vibe was thrusting in our blood!  Getting down, shaking it up, or just flying to the beat, we did them all, babe, although we had to take five minutes break when the next table threw up (to which Fenny screamed: "Ewwww!") and a bottle broke and a piece of the glass cut my right toe (to which I screamed: "Ouuuchhh!").  Well, thank God blood doesn’t freak me out, and as soon as Rina wrapped the cut with toilet paper, I was back on the dance floor!  Smokes were hanging and lasers were flashing, and we screamed our lungs out as the DJ said: "The dance floor is now officially open."  And you know what’s great about going clubbing with a lot of guy friends while there were only five of us girls there?  The guys were really obsessing on us! 

A thousand beats and countless sweats later (dancing is totally the greatest workout on earth, guys!), we left Retro around three to catch an early breakfast, the guys then splitted, and us girls were back at the hotel to catch some quality zzzzzzz (Rina, Ayu, and Kiks didn’t even bother changing and hit the bed as soon as we got into the room, dozing off in less than ten seconds). 

Anyway, it was one of the best clubbing experiences I’ve ever had, one of the most fun guilty pleasures that I love to indulge on more and more!  And if this guilty pleasure causes others to indulge on their own guilty pleasure called gossiping, honestly, I don’t give a damn.   

(If you want to experience our clubbing hype more, check out the blogs of my fellow bankers/yuppies/clubbers Fenny and Damar).

I currently have two obsessions (or passions?) in life: Anya Hindmarch and 5 o’clock shadow.  And strangely, they’re very agreeable with each other.   Or is it just me?   Oh well, I’m gonna share with you a little bit about those two.

Anya Hindmarch, for those of you who haven’t heard about her yet, is a rising British fashion designer, famous for her mainline of woven bag.  But it was actually her "be a bag" that took her to the mainstream.  "Be a bag" right now is absolutely the most wanted item by women - and even men - everywhere, making Anya Hindmarch a household name in the bag industry.  What is so addicting about this one-of-a-kind fashion item?  "Be a bag" was born in 2001 as a charity promotion where more than a hundred of fashion icons - from models, actors, artists, and pop stars - participated in.  The concept was pretty original and hip: each one of them supplied a memorable personal photograph, which then was transposed onto one of Anya Hindmarch’s stylish bags … or in short: let yourself be a bag.  It can be a picture of you and your best friend (like what Sadie Frost and Kate Moss have), an image of your childhood (Liam Neeson chose this kind), or just a picture of yourself (Pierce Brosnan used a cropped image of his eyes). 

Although started as just a 3-month charity event, "be a bag" became an immediate hit, and soon after became available publicly.  For the last two years, the number of Anya’s clientele has grown dramatically, ranging from fashionista, socialite, celebrities, to anyone who just loves the idea of carrying their treasured moment around, as the bag is always so gorgeous, so unique, and so fun!  Winky’s wife Kenes chose to put Winky’s cute kiddy picture on her Anya’s, while my friend Maya said enthusiastically: "Eh lo liat ntar gw pake Anya gw yang fotonya gw ma laki gw, pasti lo ngiri abis," to which I replied: "Ah, kalo ma laki lo sih gw gak ngiri, kalo ma Brad Pitt baru gw ngiri hahaha."

Call me a fashion victim or shopping addict, I think Anya’s bag is definitely a must-have item this year.  It’s not only great to carry around while you’re doing your regular weekend mall-hopping in your FCUK hiphuggers and chic blouse (and if you choose the nappy bag style, it fits anything from your purse, mobile phones, to your lipstick and perfume), but it also looks great with your more sophisticated look like camisoles and tube top on your afternoon date.  I just love the idea of showing my individuality not only by way of my choice of clothing, but also by visualizing my very personal image on an Anya’s bag. 

Anyway, as I was thinking of getting an Anya for my own, I start to muse on some images I’d like to put on the bag, contemplating between a picture of me on my first birthday or a collage of photographs of me with my best friends.  And that’s when an image that I adore so much came to mind: 5 o’clock shadow (I know Fenny is screaming her lungs out when she read this.  Shut up, Tong!).  I bet you’re wondering right now what or who is exactly this 5 o’clock shadow is.

5 o’clock shadow is the nickname of one of my male friends, well I guess now you must have an idea how he looks like right?  No?  Let me explain it this way.  Do you know the stubble that a man starts to grow in early morning?  It’s intimately referred to as 5 o’clock shadow, something that is actually not very common on most Asian men, but he definitely has it (and I always wish that he hasn’t been shaving when I see him hahaha).   Anyway, it’s not just his intimidatingly good looks that make me love him, but also his charming personality, and you all know I always have a soft spot for smart men.  Like rocks colliding, we did fight and argue and debate from time to time (and sometimes I just want to slap him in the face), but there’s this comforting image of him that I really like.  It’s a picture of him sleeping, 5 o’clock shadow growing, so peaceful and serene (although I fully realize that the peaceful moment was over once he’s awake and started his fussing).  Wouldn’t that be a killer image to put on an Anya’s bag?

But then I started to think, would I be tempted to rip and burn an Anya Hindmarch’s craftsmanship when I turn to hate the image so bad?  Would the bag that I usually carry with pride becomes the object of my hatred instead of my affection?  Oh, well, as I browsed through Anya’s online store, I thought: who cares?  After all, as Anya said: "I think fashion should never be taken too seriously and should always make you smile."

When we went to the bookstore to pick up Gong Xi Fa Cai cards for our prime customers last month, my friend Fenny also picked up a book entitled Luna by ….   The thing that got us interested first was that it said on the cover: Winner of the 2005 Young Adult Literature Award.  So we thought, hey, this should be something different.   I went home that night with Luna, while Fenny ended up borrowing my Cewek Matre novel by Alberthiene Endah.  There’s actually a funny story about this book.  When my mom saw me reading Cewek Matre at home, she grinned and teased me, "Wow, you’re reading your own biography?"  Haha, funny!  Well, anyway, guys who are reading this, I’m not as bad as the characters in that book, materializing their female assets to acquire another asset like a Celine bag or a pair of Jimmy Choos, wait, why am I explaining this?  Sorry again guys, I’ve been taking a handful of flu medicines today so I’m still in a groggy state, a little bit dumber and disoriented than usual. 

So back to our main point.  I laid in bed, turned on the Eric Benet CD, and started reading Luna.  In the first chapter, the girl was annoyed that her sibling kept coming into her room in the middle of the night, to try on clothes or experimenting with make up and stuff that she can’t sleep.  But she had to be patient because the sibling was her brother, Liam, who preferred to be called Luna, referring to someone who could only be seen under the moonlight, for he had to live the day as a man, a normal high schooler.

Luna is by far one of the most brilliant books I’ve ever read.  Honestly at first I thought it was just another chicklit or teenage novel, but Luna managed to come forth as a something that I would like to call as an adult psychological fiction.  It describes vividly what someone who was born as a man but felt like a woman within - someone they refer to as a transgender - was going through everyday.  Living as a person with a hidden identity.  Faking his every action, move, feeling, and behavior just to look normal under society’s perception. 

While Liam a.k.a. Luna is an extreme case, where he really desired to surgically change his gender to be a complete woman, I’m sure some of you have experienced a sexuality discomfort at some point or some degree, asking why men should do some things and why women shouldn’t do some things.  I, honestly, only learned how to enjoy being a woman just lately.  Although never questioning my sexuality, I used to hate all the things that women do because I thought they’re just pain in the ass, from waxing, regular spa and hair treatment, stilettos, ten steps of face treatment, manicures and pedicures, short skirts and stockings, mascara, fake eye lashes, the torture device called eyelash curlers, the whole thing!  I grew up very tomboyish, enjoying running around with the boys, climbing trees, and playing soldiers rather than dressing up the Barbies or playing house.  My favorite toy was a remote control car instead of the Malibu Barbie.  While the girls in my class were playing cooking, I chose to hit balls with the boys (one day I was even taken to the emergency room when the bat accidentally flew to my head and cut open just a little bit under my right eye.  Thank God it didn’t take away my sight, and the miraculous modern medicine had erased the scar, but I did have to spend a month going back and forth to the doctor).

All throughout junior high and high school, I kept many guy friends and just a few girl friends.  My look was pretty much casual and very American: jeans, T-shirt or khakis, and a pair of sneakers, from Skechers, Vans, to Guess, I was addicted to them.  While girls around me were dressing up in camisoles and high heels, I felt very comfortable shopping at PIM wearing a pair of jeans boardshorts, T-shirts, and my Skechers.  As I started university, although liberated from the dreaded school uniform, I couldn’t really wear shorts to class.  So I kept my jeans and was in love with the Doc Martens.  My hair had always been really short since kindergarten, but as I was nearing graduation and started teaching, I decided to grow it longer.

Skirts, however, were still out of the question, as I could never sit that gracefully.  Until I started working in a bank where skirts were mandatory and make up was essential.  I’m telling you, on the image class, Chitra Triadi was having a hard time teaching me to stand and walk like a woman (come on, give me a break, do you think walking straight on those high heels is easy?).  Then I joined the Fun Fearless Female thing, which was a huge shock to many of my high school friends (some messaged me and said: oh my God, you are that girly now?  Or: What demon possessed your body?).  That was actually my first time strutting with a 7 cm stilettos, what a torture!!  Men don’t have to suffer that much to look sexy, they just need to put on a pair of Michael Kors pinstripe suit and it’s done!  I felt like walking on thin ice, about to fall down and embarrassed myself any moment, but hey, I survived!! 

Getting dressed, having your hair and make up done, are very dreading and tiring (I miss the days when I was still just a wash-up-and-go girl), and I hated them.  Why does it have to be so complicated for woman to be physically accepted in the metropolitan world?  Men do not have to endure that.  Men do not have to spend hundreds of dollars on a bag of make up and skincare products.  And while wrinkles add wisdom, character, and sexiness to a man’s look, it’s every woman’s worst nightmare.  The consumer industry is built entirely on a woman’s market, from lotion to Botox, jeans to hip huggers, skin whitening to facial and liftups, and even technology is now hugging their female customers tightly: pink Dopod, shocking pink Moto (even its ad campaign is aimed directly to women, showing a fashionable woman who can fit the sleek Moto on the back pocket of her extra-tight low rise jeans, claiming that even when you’re wearing your most fashionable skirt or pants, you can still carry around Moto with you), to chic Nokia with shiny casing that you can use as a mirror where you can check your lipstick.

Life is so easy for men, not just because they only have to put on designer jeans and shirt to look extremely handsome without hours of fixing their hair and painting their face, but also because they don’t have to endure the grueling hours of delivering a baby, the pain of losing virginity, and the struggle to keep our beauty. 

I complained a lot about how complicated and expensive it is to be a woman, but as I get in touch more with my feminine side and throw away the tomboy side, I’m actually starting to enjoy it.  My first time at the spa felt like heaven (I’m now totally addicted because it’s worthed every penny!), my weekly visit to the hairdresser didn’t feel like hell anymore (spending hours of treatment there is totally rewarding when I see the result), and I’m not dreading anymore on the God-knows-how-many steps of skincare I have to do before I sleep.  I still think that stilettos are murder weapons for a girl’s feet, but now I wear them with a smile.  The only thing that I haven’t made peace with yet is the eyelash curler, it’s gonna take a little while longer until I don’t feel like my eyeballs are gonna fall off everytime I use it.

Beauty is painful, but I guess we’re all masochistic as we keep on coming back to the pain to be more and more beautiful.  And I think I need to warn any tomboyish women out there who are thinking of becoming more feminine: there’s no turning back, it’s all uphill from here.  I am yet to find out how much I can endure the pain of losing virginity and giving birth, but I can proudly say that I love being a woman, no matter how complicated, expensive, and painful it is.

What is it about me that makes people think that I smoke? 

I was at an annual regional meeting last month, on the lunch break, when a branch manager came up to me and smiled, "You smoke also, right?" offering me a cigarette.  I was shocked but managed to hide it with a chuckle, "Sadly to say, no, Sir.  Can’t, actually."

I was meeting a bunch of friends that I haven’t seen for quite some time, for an afternoon caffeine run at Starbucks.  One of my girl friends then took out a pack of cigarettes and offered me one, "Want one, Ka?"   And again I smiled and answered, joking a little bit, "Too late, I quit."

I was in the toilet, doing my thing while one of my friends was smoking, leaning on the washbasin.  I always chat with her there while she’s taking smoking breaks, but that day I had a nasty cough so I said to her, "Ndul, I gotta get back to my desk, just can’t stand your smokes today, babe," then I walked out of the ladies room.  Later, my best friend giggled as she came up to my desk and said, "Eh tau gak Iks, tadi tuh abis lo kluar, si Yati anak GA keluar dari toilet satu lagi, tampangnya kaget gitu nanya gue: eh jadi Mbak Ika itu gak ngerokok?"  I laughed and said, "Eh trus lo jawab apa?"  She also giggled, "Ya gue langsung ketawa lah, gue bilang ke dia: ya ampun Yat, si Ika itu alergi asap rokok kaleee, mana mungkin dia ngerokok, bisa mati dia."   

And the final question came from my mom.  Since most of my best friends are heavy smokers, and I always hang out with them after work, I always come home drenched in the significant smell of cigarette from head-to-toe.  Last week, I had a nasty flu and cough, and my mom came up to me and said softly: "You haven’t been smoking, have you?"

Waks!!!  Again, I’m asking you guys: what is it about me that makes you think that I smoke?  I messaged some of my best friends who know me inside out and are very well aware of my allergy to smokes, and they answered in many words but basically pointed to the same direction: "It’s the way you look, Ka."

And I have to repeat this: "It’s the way you look, Ka."  The way I look?  What is it about the way I look?  Do I have the word SMOKER printed on my forehead?  Do I carry the membership card of the Indonesian Smoker Association on my purse? 

I decided to ask my friend Wida about this and she answered straighforwardly, "Ka, get this okay?  You’re a portrait of female yuppies, you hang out at Starbucks, you go clubbing, you enjoy nightlife, your friends are all smokers, and sorry to say this, Ka, but you just have the look!"  I had to laugh along with her.  "Really?  What look?  I know that some of my friends are smokers but even they’re not automatically assumed as smokers when people met them, but I am!"  And she answered, "You just have it, Ka.  Accept it.  I think people just think it’s impossible for a woman as modern and as outgoing as you are to not smoke.  In fact, honestly, I don’t really quite believe you when you said that you don’t drink at clubs and bars."  Huaaaa, now people think I drink also?   "Shit, you really think I drink?" I said to her.  And she laughed hysterically, "Come on Ka, you go clubbing from time to time and hang out with your in-crowd every night and you never drink?  You’re really asking me to believe that?"  Again, I had to laugh with her, "Widaa!  I’m serious!  I never drink since I returned to Indonesia, lagian haram tau!"   And she kept on laughing, "A religious clubber, eh?"

Wow, while people assume that I smoke, I actually carry around an inhaler in my handbag.  While people think that I drink in clubs, I actually chugged down four bottles of mineral water throughout the whole time that I was shaking it to the music.

Anyway, as long as smokes still leave me breathless and drinking is still forbidden by my religion, I don’t think I’m gonna start those two habits.  And for those who think I’m either one of those two or both, oh well, have fun proving otherwise

How are you labeled by your friends?  Nice or cruel?  Spirited or pessimistic?  Egocentric or selfless?  Self-centered or social?  Fun or boring?  Or are you all of the above?

Personality is by far the most complex identity of a human being, no theories or books have been able to explain scientifically why one person has a type of personality while the others have another.  In fact, no two people are exactly the same in terms of their personality (not even identical twins).  While DNA, blood types, and fingerprints can be recognized and matched, personality cannot be used as a definite way of identifying a human being. 

But I do believe that personality is the true identity that we associate a person with, a unique series of traits that only he or she possesses.  Every one of us has many personality traits - we can be both egocentric and selfless or outgoing and reserved - but there’s always a genuine trait that identify who we are, something that radiates from within and dominates our actions and behavior towards ourselves or others.  Thus allowing us to recognize ourselves or our friends by that one so-called personality gene: Andrew is a party guy or Jason is a very private person.

But in our relationship with others, we do adapt and make some adjustments to our behavior, sometimes even a little bit or far off from that personality gene.  For example, when going out with his friends, clubbing maybe, Jason forces himself to be more outgoing, to dance around to the music like the others, instead of following his deepest need to just sit in the corner and listen to the music.  Why?  Well, let’s be honest to ourselves, however uncomfortable we are of running away from our personality gene, we still have the desire to be accepted by our peers.  Among his more quiet friends, Andrew tries to keep his cool to be somewhat indifferent from them, no matter how much he wants to just open the beer bottle and yell "Party!!" just like Jason acts the opposite in the clubbing scene.  Adaptation.

But I really need to ask this question: do we have to pretend to be someone we’re not to be accepted?  In adapting to our circle of friends, do we have to be more like them instead of holding to our own true identity?  Do we have to be unfaithful to our true personality just to be accepted by our peers?  Do we choose to commit what I now call as personality infidelity to be with the in-crowd?

I think the answer lies in this one simple statement: you are who you are.  While nature requires us to adapt, it doesn’t mean that we should lose our inner being and self-existence just to be like the others.  Adaptation means altering or modifying some of our behavior in an attempt not to offend the people that we are closed to.  Adaptation, however, doesn’t mean changing ourselves altogether just to please others.  That’s just plain insecurity: you are so insecure with yourself - your personality gene and your genuine identity - that you think people would like you more if you change, dramatically.  Now, let me ask you another basic question: while it makes the people around you happy, does it also make it happy? 

So, all of the Andrews and Jasons out there, stay the way you are, because the way you are is the one that I know and love, the one that makes you guys my friends.  Don’t be untrue to yourself just because you want to be accepted.  Personality infidelity is for the ones who are insecure with themselves, and I believe you’re not one of them.

Movies and television always bring us a metropolitan depiction of young managers: casual office culture, luxury cars, seven figures salary with stock options, power breakfast and power lunch at The Ivy or Trump Tower, with growing addiction to Blackberry and iPod.

Young managers are really on the rise, companies are head-hunting for them to bring engaging spirit, creative thinking, and openness to the company, mixing them with the more conservatives corporate cultures like discipline, focus, and hierarchy.  This combination does create a new leadership style, although we have yet to see the immortality of this style against time and change.  But the demands for young managers are exponentially increasing.  Companies can’t wait to extract their eager, young minds, their restlessness and tempestuousness, and their appealing personalities to recharge the organization. 

Freshly recruited executives do offer a significant breakthrough in the workplace, as they’re anxious to give their insights and ideas to accentuate change in the way most companies are doing business right now.  Though they are undoubtedly brilliant and well-educated, most of them haven’t had enough mileage in the actual workplace.  Office politics is a brand new thing for the like of us.  While it was our bright ideas that took us to the top in college, it’s the personal quality of getting around the office politics that will push our advancement in the workplace.  There’s no point of having breaking ideas if you don’t know how to bring it on the table, if you don’t know how to get your peers, subordinates, and bosses to listen to them.  Passionate people like us are always pushing it through, with minimum awareness of organizational culture, forcing our idealistic views to our company without realizing that changing things is not as easy as it might seem, that acceptance of ideas cannot be forced and be applied in split second. Resistance always exists, not just because the ideas might sound too difficult or too utopian to implement, but because our existence as young managers do create a hint of disapproval from the older generation who has worked their asses for years and still can’t get to the position we’re holding right now.  Their principle might be: if I can make it harder for you, why should I make it easier?

The passion to implement ideas and to prove that we’re worthy of the position sometimes brings us to a place where we think we’re way smarter than the others, that we should push them to follow our idealistic direction.  We can’t wait to bring changes, to bring our ideas to life, and to implement the billion dozen theories that we learned in business school.  But we do need to get a grasp of the reality: people who don’t like you won’t follow you.  As Klaus-Peter Gurnhurst said in his article "Leadership - Sober, Spirited, and Spiritual" at strategy+business.com, many companies that are led by younger executives discovered that these eager leaders can’t be as innovative and effective if they’re always at the mercy of their passions.  Leading with passion is important (how could you bring your subordinates to follow you if you don’t believe in the objectives that you’re striving for), but it is also significantly important to realize that these creative free spirits must be productively guided by discipline, purpose, and accountability.  If you saw the first season of The Apprentice, I’m sure you still remember Sam, the free spirit that Donald Trump refers to as "a loose cannon, he can do really great, or he can bring the company to destruction."

While it is exciting for us to adopt our individual values and spirit to the way we interact and lead, to passionately race to our goals, and to show the outburst of our energy anytime we want, keeping grounded and humble will help us in getting to the moment where even our most outrageous and intricate ideas would be accepted and supported by our people.

As some of us might have learned the hard way, the key to leading with passion is to lead ourselves before we lead others.