Presentations must be attractive — in fact, pretty — in order to achieve optimal effect.
Many facets of business know this to be true. Even at a rudimentary level, we enjoy our salads to be garnished, and our ice cream to be topped in sprinkles. We like our products to be enhanced. Whether it be for style or flavor, presentation matters.
Every influencer who appears on platforms such as Instagram, TikTok and YouTube realizes this to be their reality. The doyens of social media maximize their style and self-portrayals in a manner that gains followers such that they generate income. They know if their platforms fall flat, they generate zilch. The quality of each presentation is a sheer determinant of its success.
By now, you may be thinking: Thank goodness I am not an influencer — I am just an average human. My only desire regarding presentation is that my appearance makes an acceptable impression.
In any case, certainly, that was my main objective as I set out one evening with my husband to meet another couple for dinner at a trendy and tony Hamptons restaurant.
It is possible that was our first error in judgment. We chose a culinary locale that had both a beautiful outdoor garden as well as live music. Had this restaurant featured only one or the other, the pressure to impress may well have been more moderate. However, this exquisite combination of lush greenery mixed with vibrant entertainment made it quite popular.
Generally speaking, I tend to accept most of life’s societal parameters. For example, I noticed there is a hard-line rule in Southampton when it comes to parking one’s car. It is quite necessary to park your car within the designated white painted-on parking lines. If you choose to place your car outside these lines, an indisputable $50 ticket, for “manner of parking,” will appear on your car’s windshield.
Thus, I recommend that each and every time you position your car, you religiously check that these white lines surround your car.
I know someone who became distracted upon noticing that the clothing boutique Poupette St. Barths had a 50 percent off sale sign in the window. Yes, this person fell prey and was duly distracted by such alluring window dressing … case in point, I may add, because presentation does have a cause and effect.
Still, we know, though perhaps subliminally, that lines are essential, since even as small children we were taught to “stand in line” and “to color within the lines.” There were so many lines that some of us who possessed more vivid or creative imaginations found such lines to be a bit constricting.
Many decades later, however, I am quite resolved to understanding the relevance of the parking lines of a busy resort town. They are necessary to maintain decorum on the streets, as well as in the parking lots. The problem is following the guidelines of such resort town lines, which are invisible to the naked eye.
In any case, that is how my quagmire ensued. My husband and I descended upon the host’s podium of that trendy restaurant with the garden and the music. We decided to secure our table while we waited for our friends to arrive. I must admit, the host was only too happy to seat us, since we did arrive with the requisite dinner reservation.
However, the problem manifested itself as we were directed to a table of four situated adjacent to a wooden exterior wall, hidden behind a massively tall plant. Too much effort and time was expended in my appearance to be relegated to any corner. I wore a current-season Veronica Beard flowy dress and had a fresh wavy hair blow-out from the Hampton 27 salon, because, of course, patronizing local establishments is just as essential as paying taxes.
The music in the background was playing some lovely melody, but all I heard ringing in my ears was Bonnie Raitt’s music of March 21,1989, the date she released her album “Nick of Time.” It was 33 years ago, back in the day when such a restaurant would gladly have seated me front and center. Raitt’s album was wildly successful as it sold five million copies and won three Grammy Awards. It was named Album of the Year.
Raitt sang, “I found love, baby, in the nick of time.” This song immediately came to mind, because the elephant in the room, so to speak, was ageism.
Ageism, like arbitrary lines, is a topic I prefer to vehemently deny. I find such truths to be annoying and grossly exaggerated.
But, even three decades ago, when Bonnie Raitt’s album was front and center, I tended to circumvent life’s parameters regarding age, having had my son and daughter later rather than sooner. Fast-forward to the summer of 2022, and we see this denial continue, this time in my completely misguided and naive thought that a polite challenge to the invisible lines of preferred seating at the coolest restaurant during the hottest month could come to fruition.
Not a chance.
In fact, the restaurant management may have regarded my efforts as more audacious than any parking infraction. Come to think of it, the host might well have been within her purview to issue patrons such as myself a ticket of another sort for such a gross transgression.
I must say, though, I did employ logic to indicate several other empty tables of four more prominently positioned in the garden. “They are all reserved and spoken for,” the host told us. “Many large parties are about to enter the restaurant; we will have to rearrange all the tables of four that currently appear to be vacant.” Hmmm …
In fairness to the host, it was as challenging for them to appear convincing as it was for me to believe this incredulous explanation. After surveying a few alternate possibilities, we compromised and settled on a table with an outsized chair near the wall, closer to center, and in front of, rather than behind, another large and overpowering plant. My Veronica Beard could finally make its debut; alas, my group would be able to enjoy the reciprocity of other-patron viewing.
Ahhh, the other patrons. Within minutes of our arrival, as the host could predict, there were two large groups of young women. One was seated at an elongated table; all the young women were dressed in varying shades of pink, celebrating the bride in their party. Another collection of young women was seated at a second long table, this group dressed in a panoply of hues.
In short order, my party of four slightly older, though decidedly fit and appropriately dressed, I may add, understood that our lack of youth-and-beauty credentials justified our slightly remote table placement.
In fact, to place us in a position of prominence could even have been considered complete blasphemy … in terms of the restaurant’s window dressing, of course. Reluctantly, even I could see that.
Eventually, I hate to admit, I saw it so clearly, so crystal clearly, I actually felt remorse over my more-prestigious-table request. I promised the manager, next time, I would recommend that my 20-something children patronize the restaurant, rather than my middle-aged friends and me.
From now until Labor Day, when the population has dwindled, if I dare return, at least I will refrain from suggesting that front-row seat, because just “in the nick of time” has little relevance at the hottest of Hamptons restaurants where pretty and presentation, admittedly, must prevail.
Shari Adler is a resident of Southampton and New York City.
