When we as young 25 year olds were summoned into a prominent ad agency head's cubicle and asked to line up for him to review. He wanted girls to be decked up in saree for the launch of the book on how his father build a prominent ad agency. I, along with a few others were asked to step aside because we were 'flat chests'.
When at an interview for a Client servicing role at another leading agency in Chennai the only questions I was asked were "Do you have a boy friend, do you drink, do you go pubbing?"
When working on Lotte Choco Pie pitch, the agency head kept joking to women in particular, that the 2 layers of biscuit and cream in between reminded him of 'something else'.
When I was told I was thin and my lack of a 'rounded full butt' made my trousers look pretty loose.
When working on a pitch for Mood condoms, the otherwise lazy agency head showed exceptional interest in personally conducting the survey with 'women' employees to understand more about their intimate experiences with the product.
When I was told I cannot handle a particular salon brand account because I lacked the beauty or personality for it (my way of revenge was to later get on board as the Pan India Marketing Head for the same salon brand).
When the client at a leading stationery brand, would refuse to acknowledge my face, and only talk to my chest.
So many stories. How many do we tell?
Why didn't we shame them, then and there? Because we were scared. Scarred. Shocked. Wanted the job. Wanted to retain the client. Were not sure of support. Were not sure if we were in this alone or others suffered it too.
And most of all, we were pretty sure that the first response would be, why bring it up? Konjam adjust pannikonga.
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