I smugly sailed through Wesleyan thinking: "I'm going to dedicate myself to doing good in the world." For a liberal arts college student that translates to a career in the non-profit world. 

After college I spent a year in India with the William J. Clinton Fellowship with the American India Foundation (AIF) exploring non-profits that are doing marvelous work. It was interesting, challenging, rewarding...and not for me. 

And then I went to Bombay Fashion Week. The  buzz was contagious. Suddenly, the little artist inside of me had to speak up: "Do what you love, goddamn it!"

As soon as I got back to NY I threw myself into entertainment full time. And felt very guilty. "Where the heck did your selfless idealism go?" 

So, last year when James Grant approached me to host United Cerebral Palsy of NYC's annual gold tournament I immediately replied with an enthusiastic "yes!". Since that date I've continued to work with UCP of NYC, as well as  AIF an several other organizations. The work is truly satisfying because I am using what I love to do to help people. It's also an incredible motivator -- the more my career advances, the more I can lend my brand to help those fighting to make the world a better place. 

Last night I went to The Salon, a classy 1930s inspired event at Rebel in NYC. There were marvelous outfits and incredible swing dancers....and an old-time gogo dancer. 

Now this girl was s-k-i-n-n-y. Pure muscle and well proportioned and flawless. My friend and I looked her with envy and said to each other: "If only..."

The floor cleared. A burlesque dancer walked slowly to the empty space. A sexy ballad started beating down on the speakers. The dancer began her routine. The audience was spellbound from full dress to pasties. 

Did I mention that the dancer had curves for days?

The song ended and she left the floor in triumph. The gogo dancer was also doubling as a stage manger ("kitten" in burlesque speak) and scampered on the stage to pick up Mr. Dancer's clothes. 

And then I saw. The gogo's confidence was nothing compared to the dancer's belief that she had something special to show us. The gogo  had merely shaken her wares at us earlier in the night. The dancer had let us into her seductive world. And she was the more intriguing and delicious for it. She had lots of fat. Lots. But she loved every inch of it and so did we. 

So next time we get envious, ladies and gents, remember that confidence wins out in the end!