Stereotypes

I was invited on Saturday night to the tail end of a Passover meal -- the only part of the meal that counts for me -- dessert.

The person who invited me was another mom at the school who took a shine to me several years ago. Probably, because I struck her as being different from the typical princess mom crowd that is so highly represented at our school.

Seated at the dinner table was a family who lived one street over from me. I have never met them before (I guess I'm somewhat antisocial and remiss in my neighbourly duties). The wife, an artist, almost immediately asked me if I was an accountant. Now, I have to point out ... I did not come dressed up in corporate attire, but instead was clad in a pair of jeans, t-shirt and sporting pigtails. Hardly accountant wear.

Years ago when in my mid-twenties, the owner of a chichi Rosedale salon told me very dismissively that I looked like an accountant. Clearly, it was not meant as a compliment. He seemed to be telling me that I was a pencil pushing, number crunching, crashing bore. (Which would explain the kind of haircut he gave me -- is it any wonder that I adore Daniel who fancies me a goddess and gives me exciting creative looks to go along with his opinion?)

During that same time period, I hired a photographer to do some portrait work. This particular fellow did artsy cutting edge photography for magazines, etc. At one point during the photo shoot, his phone rang and I overheard him telling the caller that he had to go as he had someone waiting for him -- "no, no nothing interesting like that ... just some portraitwork I have to do". It was clear that he had a distaste not only for what he was doing but for the person who was putting him in the position of having to carry out such an act. That he was only carrying out the task for the money was quite obvious.

Later on, he called me at my office to let me know that the contact sheet was ready for my perusal. At the time, I was working for a Better Homes and Garden real estate company -- in fact, the only one in Canada at the time, and therefore completely unknown as a real estate entity. When I got to the phone, there was a tone of newfound respect in his voice as he exclaimed "hey, I didn't know you worked for a magazine". It was obvious that he was suddenly rethinking his original opinion of me as boring corporate type who'd commission his talents in a completely inappropriate and bourgeois fashion to artsy interesting girl with truly good taste. It was a shortlived respect however, because I felt compelled to tell him the truth. The silence that followed before he got back down to business spoke volumes.

For a couple of years, as a favour to a friend, I did sporadic video and photography work for her company. I appeared in a number of in-house videos, as well gracing the cover of their corporate magazine. Almost invariably, I was cast as the pharmacist. My desire to just once be a slutty, ditzy aesthetician became somewhat of a running joke between myself and the director. Once and only once, when they were short of actors, was I allowed to be a shoplitfing customer and apparently, my performance was deemed to be somewhat disbelievable. I just didn't look the part. The next callback, I was in my familiar role as pharmacist.

What is it about me that causes people to typecast me as boring, corporate accountant or studious pharmacist? Is it because I'm Asian, or do I actually project an unexciting, predictable energy?