Life's Better for Babies and Redheads

One the most intriguing books I’ve ever read is Garlic and Sapphires by Ruth Reichl, former restaurant critic for the New York Times. When she was preparing to start that job, she learned that every restaurant in town was on the lookout for her so they could treat her like a queen and get a good review. Determined to get the same dining experience as everyone else, she began going to dinner in disguise.

Reichl invented numerous personas—a middle-aged businesswoman, a blonde bombshell, a timid elderly woman, even her own mom. She didn’t want to just look different; she wanted to be different, and see how the restaurants treated her. The persona that interested me most, and the one that almost tempts me to try the experiment myself, was “Brenda.”

Brenda was dreamed up by Reichl’s coworker. She dressed Ruth up in a red wig and loud, vintage clothing, and created an aging hippie that was completely the opposite of Reichl’s normal appearance. Ruth wore almost no make-up, Brenda wore bright lipstick; Ruth wore lots of black, Brenda wore bright colors; Ruth tried to blend in, Brenda stood out wherever she went.

Even more striking than the visual difference was the way Reichl found herself acting when she dressed like Brenda. She stuck out, but she wasn’t self-conscious. She looked easy-going and friendly, and somehow she became just that. Strangers smiled at her and she grinned back. They came up and talked to her, and she didn’t find it unusual. Waiters at restaurants winked at her and gave her extra truffles. Reichl wrote that “Brenda’s world was a gentler place than mine: people wished her well.”

I find myself thinking of that line often as I exchange smiles with my baby daughter. She’s a cheerful little soul, neither judgmental nor self-conscious. Each of us feels happy and safe with the other. I hope her world stays gentle, and I yearn to make mine gentler. I suspect there’s a grinning, friendly Brenda inside each of us.