Rejection Season Has Started, So I Eat Cookies
I admit I am a sidekick in the Christmas pantheon, at least here in the city. But as the world craves female voices, my image evolves. As a Santa friend reminds me, Lois Lane has had several makeovers to stay relevant. Likewise, Mrs. Claus is like a comic book character who experiences updates each decade. I definitely feel a change in my own folkloric DNA that is both exciting and scary. Who am I? Am I old? Am I young?
Some female peers want me to break all the rules and be a feminist warrior. Others are shocked I dare wear anything other than an apron and traditional mob cap, the ruffly hat preferred by Martha Washington. One Santa wanted me to add wrinkles to my youthful complexion, which I might do only in his company. I respect him that much, even though this feels like age-ism in reverse.
Then another St. Nick told me—gasp—that my youth makes Santa look like a “pervert,” his words in the beginning of the #MeToo era. Fellas, I love you so much I’m asking you to put your right hand on the screen and promise me you will never say this to a woman, or ANYONE, ever, especially when that person is trying to be the best version of herself. Banish this thinking from your brains forever, or at least bury it in your inner monologue. I did speak up on that one, and this influential Santa did apologize, as he should.
Yet every choice I make will be wrong in someone’s eyes, so I have to be myself and listen, listen, listen to what feels right. And I have to cheer on other Clauses to do the same. One gorgeous woman I know calls herself Ms. Santa. She is absolutely stunning and in the driver’s seat when it comes to who she is. Oh, how I admire that.
It is still hard to get work in NYC, even though I’m getting promising feedback early in the season. Here is an example through email:
Thank you for contacting us to become part of the [company name deleted] family! I have added you to our database so that we can begin to contact you for jobs in your area. But, if you have some photos, I would love a couple. Could you email some to me? Or, if there are some online somewhere, please let me know where. Also, I let all of our Mrs Claus' know that unfortunately we do not get a lot of work for Mrs Claus. But, we do get some and are getting more every year.
This is WONDERFUL news! One day, we will be trending.
Here’s a thoughtful rejection from a GigSalad client based in Tudor City in Manhattan:
I’m so sorry! We were really just looking for a Santa Claus.
Thank you though!
The 2018 gig called for a St. Nick to hand out presents and pose in pictures, in only 15 minutes. I felt sorry for the poor Santa who took that rushed job. There’s no way a human being can perform such stunts in such a short period of time. A half hour would do the trick, but candy canes! I am grateful to get a response at all.
Here’s another email through GigSalad that was for Christmas Eve 2017 on Christmas Eve 2017 in the Village:
Hi - is this for Mrs Claus or Santa Claus?
The client, whose name was Jonah, was confused. Sweet, sweet Jonah. He couldn’t figure why a silver lady like myself was writing to him instead of a gentleman with a beard. This made me smile. He seemed very stressed. I should have counseled him not to plan a major event with a costumed character on the day of the busiest night of the universe. But I never heard back.
Last week, I finally found the right number to an appropriate office at the New York Stock Exchange. The gentleman on the other end answered with a simple “hello,” nothing else. That’s a sign I found the inner sanctum.
I said, “Is this the New York Stock Exchange?”
“Yes.”
“How do I get on the schedule to ring the bell?”
The gentleman provided an email address. Before I hung up, I quickly introduced myself. “The financial world needs Mrs. Claus to ring the bell,” I said. “For better PR.” He laughed. Isn’t that glorious?
Here is my bull-market pitch to the NYSE through email:
Mon, Sep 9, 12:17 PM
to nysetv
Hi there,
My name is [deleted to maintain the magic]. I am [a] tall, confident Mrs. Claus NYC who dreams of ringing the bell for the New York Stock Exchange during the holiday season. Santa will never lose his place as the king of Christmas, but I am just as nice, if not more efficient and less well paid.
Last year, I won a scholarship to the Charles W. Howard Santa Claus School in Michigan, considered the Harvard of Christmas universities. I was also featured on Page 3 of the New York Post, Marie Claire, and Huffington Post. As a new Mrs. Claus, I have entertained the Clinton family. Here is my website.
I love getting rejections, if that is what is to happen with the NYSE. If people didn’t care, they would ignore me altogether. As you can see, I’m getting very gracious pseudo-“no’s” with honest explanations. I deserve another five cookies.
Related Article: “Mrs. Claus Come Home to NYC”