Proustian Memories and Mentorship

Once a year, I make Gratin of Four Onions, my favorite side dish for holiday entertaining. Producing this recipe, given to me over forty years ago by my then-boss and mentor, Mary Lyons, always produces a singular response. Whenever I start peeling and chopping the shallots, garlic, leeks, and onions, I think of Mary and her invaluable contributions to my early second career as a publicist. My response is the same as Marcel Proust’s madeleine moment—an involuntary recollection of something brought on by a sensory experience. 

When I make Mary’s recipe, I think of the knowledge and experience I gained as her young mentee. In the early 1980s, Mary taught me the public relations profession when I became her assistant at Food and Wine from France (now known as Sopexa). Under her tutelage, I learned how to (hopefully) write coherently, think like a journalist, be 100 percent honest in all matters, and never overpromise.  These lessons from my mentor, or “work-mother” as she would now be called, served me well during my 40 plus years in marketing and communications.

Being fast-tracked by a second mentor

It was only later when I changed jobs and joined Schieffelin & Co. (a wine and spirits importer now owned by LVMH) that I fully realized the importance of having someone guide your career. Building on what I had learned from Mary, I fell under the guidance of a new boss, Margaret Stern. She was forthright with me from the get-go: She had been secretly recruited by Coca-Cola, at the time leading their first foray into the wine world. Coke needed Margaret to spearhead their new venture. Margaret had a few months to get her new hire (me) up to speed at her current job so that she could leave with a clear conscience.

After making sure I had the basics down on the wine portfolio we represented, Margaret went about indoctrinating me in the politics of Schieffelin & Co., a privately held firm owned by a blue-blooded, American family. Like all the other leaders in the wine business at the time, the president was a middle-aged white man. Margaret and I were, in a sense, female pioneers trying to infiltrate a close-knit male fraternity.

I was a sponge for Margaret’s lessons on how to maneuver in a man’s world. As her protégée, I learned the essentials needed to work within a corporate structure as one of the few female executives in the industry. Margaret instilled in me the need to be more competent than any male. She understood this necessity, as unfair as it was, and made sure I knew how to effectively use various business tactics to promote our wine brands. But even more essentially, Margaret coached me on how to appear cool, collected, and unthreatening as a female executive in a somewhat hostile all-male environment.

Margaret took pride in the fact I was a quick learner. She knew that the sooner I was up and running, the quicker she could advance her career with much greater responsibility at Coca-Cola. When Margaret left, I took over her role.

Paying it forward as a small business owner

After a successful 13-year career at Schieffelin & Co., where I had risen to vice president of public relations, I wanted out. In 1990, I decided to launch my own agency, Cornerstone Communications, and become my own boss. My firm was a boutique-sized marketing and communications agency focusing on wine and other luxury goods.

Given all I had learned at the hands of my two mentors, Mary and Margaret, I felt it was critical as a nascent entrepreneur to pay it forward with my new, young employees. My goal was to primarily hire women who aspired to someday have my job. I figured employees with bold ambition would keep me on my toes. Hopefully, they would also come to work having a balance of assertiveness and a willingness to learn the way I conducted business. Creativity, service, and integrity—all things my mentors taught me—were the pillars of Cornerstone Communications’ ethos from day one.

Mutually beneficial advantages

But let’s be frank. As a business owner, I also appreciated the many benefits a mentor derives from having mentees. While not every employee I hired during twenty-five years at the helm of Cornerstone met the mentorship criteria, many did. These individuals rewarded me with loyalty and exceptional work. Within an atmosphere of mutual collaboration, they helped grow the agency’s business. Although we never talked about the mentoring process, per se, my staff understood I would teach them the ropes and help guide their careers in exchange for their allegiance and good work.

This two-way street suited both boss and employees. While I provided the business foundation, a collegial environment, and opportunities for education and growth, my young staffers brought skill sets that I lacked, such as technology. They showed me the benefits of integrating digital marketing into our agency’s range of services. They dazzled clients with social media strategies that kept Cornerstone Communications ahead of the competition for many years. In return, I took great pride in their accomplishments and encouraged their career development, sometimes even at the expense of my small firm when they left for better-paying opportunities at big agencies.

Remembering with gratitude lessons from two great women

I hope my mentees think back with the same fondness and gratitude that I experience when I remember Mary and Margaret. I thank Mary for her many enduring lessons as well as for her divinely delicious Gratin of Four Onions.

Margaret was not very interested in cooking. But whenever I enjoy a glass of sparkling wine, visions of Margaret immediately spring forth. In addition to teaching me how to steer my way through the complicated, male-dominated wine industry, she taught me invaluable lessons on how to enjoy, as well as to market, fine Champagnes. She introduced me to the world’s leading seller, Moët & Chandon, as well as to Dom Pérignon and my favorite Champagne, Dom Ruinart, all brands we promoted at Schieffelin.

But coming back to Proust: No matter what it is that evokes a memory, if you had to choose from among a glass of Dom Ruinart Blanc de Blancs Champagne, or slicing onions and leeks, or Proust’s madeleine, can we all agree that bubbles trump a portion of gratin and a mere cookie every time?