While clackers are a dime a dozen, it’s far more challenging to find “nasty women” in the boardroom–primarily because this concept is something that could only truly thrive in the 80s and 90s, when “the businesswoman” was more of an unconventionality. And boardrooms actually existed, instead of, you know, “shared workspaces.”
Naturally, because of the perception of “nasty women” as harpies incapable of any emotion other than, “Fuck me,” portrayals of them would frequently result in the likes of Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction or Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct (though, granted, Catherine Tramell didn’t have to endure a 9 to 5 schedule). But now, they are far more accepted in modern office society, and therefore far less distinct. Like fax machines, they are no longer a novelty. Contrarily, they are a near congenital part of cube life. Because, to be honest, only nasty women can tolerate the monotony and fashions of a life lived in the officina.
And yet, because of their current commonality in the world of Midtown, it’s getting to be more of a difficulty to distinguish between a woman and a nasty woman, begging the question: where’s Leona Helmsley when you need her?