Exude Grace in Everything You Do

What Would Jackie Do?
by Shelly Branch, Sue Callaway

(Page 2 of 4)

'A beautiful gesture is really a very rare thing . . .'

JBKO

Shall we dare to be . . . like her?

It's an alluring and terrifying idea. After all, Jackie O was the model for how to do practically everything right. There was the indestructible coif, chic whether windswept or tethered by a silk scarf. A whispery voice that could alternately charm, devastate, captivate. Even her physical carriage had an easy grace that seemed lit from within. Then, of course, there were the outfits beaded bodices and A-line coats. They dazzled in the absence of colossal gems. The very image is enough to make us straighten our backs, pat our hair in place, and pull our beau a little bit closer.

And no wonder. Much that we've seen and read about her is so reverent, distant, unattainable. But at a time when everything in our world is so brilliantly recherchè from clothes and entertaining to manners and even language what better opportunity to intrigue as if 'Jack-leen'?

Perfection isn't the goal, of course. To transcend the ordinariness that Jackie so feared in youth means feasting on a diet of discipline and restraint whether you're into dungarees or Dior. As Jackie knew,fabulousness is a state of mind, something you harness day in and day out to neutralize the 'dreary' things and people that threaten to drag you down.

Obscure Your Ego to Reveal Your True Qualities

It won't, it can't, it mustn't always be about you. And even if you don't agree, you'd do well to at least pretend so some of the time. A substantive woman and Jackie was nothing if not that can check her hubris as easily as she does her evening wrap. It's always there, of course, but sometimes it's better left in the background.

Shift the spotlight. Self-promoters, Jackie once said, 'really get my back up.' But because people tend to crave the limelight so much themselves, they'll be thrown (and delighted) when you transfer some of the attention you command. Out for aperitifs with girlfriends? Insist that the cute guy in the opposite banquette is ogling one of them, not you. Tell your hairdresser that his splendid updo not your fine form drew gasps at the charity ball.

A master at shifting the spotlight, Jackie would playfully say to friends that the press 'must know you're here!' when helicopters buzzed overhead. Even when the pressure was on, she knew to turn the focus away from herself. Once, when one of Jackie's Doubleday authors Tiffany design director John Loring asked the editor to do a rare interview on his behalf for The New Yorker, Jackie at first agreed, but ultimately reneged by using a clever deflection technique. She told him, 'You don't really want me in that profile, because people will only remember me, and you'll just be forgotten completely.'

Overlook faux pas. You mustn't let the minor transgressions of others interrupt your daily flow or block your precious chi. When people stumble with their words, their manners, or their wit, there's just no need to take an emotional tumble. Jackie wouldn't give a damn if you said, 'I love your Gucci!' (if in fact she was wearing Pucci) or 'How was the bear hunt?' (when foxes were her thing).

To show how deftly Jackie handled such potentially embarrassing moments, a Doubleday colleague recalls how she stopped by his office to bum a book of matches. 'As I was handing it to her, I noticed it had a JFK memorial stamp on it,' he says. 'It was a fleeting moment, not more than a second.' Jackie didn't acknowledge any awkwardness. Ditto when interior decorator Mario Buatta came to dinner at her Fifth Avenue apartment and promptly split his pants on a chair. Without missing a beat, Jackie covered his back at the buffet.

Invoke others' names. Need a favor? Need to curry favor? Put a brake on the number of times you say 'me' and 'I.' You'll seem like less of an egomaniac and more of a conciliator if you pin your request on someone else. Jackie was known to use such harmless substitutions to get what she wanted, saying things like, 'Jack wants . . .' or 'My sister advises against,' or 'So-and-so won't allow . . .' The less-than-overt method had its charms. 'She could impose that will upon people without their ever knowing it,' observed White House usher J. B. West.

Be a master flatterer. The point of advanced flattery is to remind someone how special he or she is, while also hinting at your utter dependency on them. This technique comes in handy when you are trying to salvage professional relationships or have something very specific to gain.

To snare a 'magnificent' portrait of Benjamin Franklin for the White House, for example, Jackie rang up publishing magnate Walter H. Annenberg. She was ready to grovel, all right, but with an air of decorum and purpose: 'You, Mr. Annenberg, are the first citizen of Philadelphia,' she purred. 'And in his day, Benjamin Franklin was the first citizen of Philadelphia. And that's why, Mr. Annenberg, I thought of you. . . .' She went on to remind him that the White House and America desperately needed his tasteful acquisition. Are we at all surprised that he handed over the $250,000 painting by David Martin?

Dare to diss yourself. How to boost the comfort level when you're mingling outside your own social set? Knock yourself down by a precious peg or two. Jackie had a talent for making herself seem less rich, less smart, less beautiful when the situation warranted it. She was known, for instance, to refer to her Fifth Avenue manse as 'this old dump.' Even among those who sought to impress her (folly indeed), she held back. If someone prattled on about an obscure book, for example, 'Jackie would be well mannered enough to say 'I've never heard of that' when she'd read the whole thing,' says her friend Carly Simon.

Copyright © 2005 Shelly Branch, Sue Callaway.

About the Author

Shelly Branch is an editor at The Wall Street Journal, where she also writes on retail, fashion, and pop culture. She was a staff writer at Fortune and Money, and has contributed to numerous other national publications. She lives in New York City.

Sue Callaway has been an editor at Fortune, Esquire, and Men's Journal. She has also served as general manager of Jaguar Cars U.S. and as director of marketing for Ford's luxury brands. She lives in Laguna Beach, California, with her husband and two children.