I worked so hard to get ready for that interview, accounting for every detail down to my outfit: a blazer and pencil skirt I’d had tailored precisely. It made me feel formidable, capable—the kind of woman I’d worked so hard to become during my years of graduate school. But the way Kinnear stared at me as I took my seat in the interview room immediately punctured my confidence. Later I overheard him commenting on my “great legs” to one of his older male colleagues, and I deflated entirely. I took the job, but I never wore that outfit again.
