Growing into the Job, Post 535: Retail Therapy, p9

I watched Sheryl St. Clair finish her remarks, impressed by her camera-crushing smile and a small tilt of the head that conveyed her unmistakable confidence. The applause rippled warmly across the seated crowd - fifty women, they told us to expect. It was maybe closer to seventy now, with more standing along the sides, shoulder to shoulder, the whole assembly forming a loose semicircle around the panel platform. Our coordinator here, Mira, gave a quick nod in my direction, and I straightened in my seat.

Okay. Time to speak.

Mira’s voice rang out with her softly accessible poise, “And now, we’re proud to welcome Vendare Group’s own - Chief Operating Officer, Ms. Cynthia Vega.”

Another round of applause. I rose slowly, smoothing my blazer with both hands and straightening my new glasses. The applause was polite - this crowd wasn’t easily dazzled, and that was fine by me. I didn’t come to dazzle. I came to lay a foundation.

“Thank you, Mira,” I said as i clipped a mic onto my lapel, my tone even and warm. “And thank you to all of you for being here. It’s no small thing to take time out of your Tuesday to listen to a bunch of ladies in suits talk about property.”

A soft chuckle ran through the room. I smiled - measured, not too proud.

“But what we’re discussing today isn’t just land. It’s not just square footage or zoning. What we’re really talking about here,” I continued, pacing slightly in front of the table, “is infrastructure for autonomy. It’s about women owning the ground we all walk on - literally, and metaphorically.”

Inwardly, I watched the words land. That phrase - ‘infrastructure for autonomy’ - had tested well in our pilot markets. It sounded neutral enough for public audiences, but it hinted at the deeper shift Vendare was catalyzing.

“I also want to thank our other panelists - Inez, Soleil, and Sheryl. Sheryl - how are you?” Pointedly, I turned to Sheryl; both of us smiled. “Sheryl and I were at Vassar together,” I told the crowd, “we just figured that out a few minutes ago when we met. I was a year ahead of her, already deep into my Women’s Studies and getting into what would eventually be the first stages of the Movement.  Sheryl was busy with her pre-law classes, wasn’t at the rallies and meetings that seemed so revolutionary back then.   But we forgive her.” The crowd chuckled, and so did Sheryl. “Sounds like we eventually got you, though, right Sheryl?”

“Yes, I’m hooked..!” she spoke up, beaming.

More ripples of laughter from the crowd. I gave them another smile. 

I turned away from Sheryl. “Because that’s why we’re all here today, really, isn’t it? To get involved? To change our world?” I was pleased to see a sea of nodding heads. “I look out at this gathering and I see a vibrant wave of strong, engaged women. That alone is incredibly energizing,” I said, letting my eyes move slowly over the crowd. “And…I don’t see many male faces, just a few little ones with mommies here and there - which is honestly great. They, the little men, should start to understand the world they’ll be growing up in. But it’s probably for the best that it’s just us girls here because then today, with this audience, I can speak a little more openly than I normally might.”

I’d said, yes, that it was just little boys out there. But I had actually picked out one adult male, earlier; was that Sheryl’s ex-husband? She’d told me to look out for him. And what were those three women he was with doing to him..?

Anyway, focus. Back to the crowd. I would speak openly. 

I saw nods in the seated group in front of me. Women shifted in their seats. Mira had already vetted any press here, made sure it was friendly, so I was good to go. “Vendare Group’s core mission,” I went on, starting off easy, “is to reimagine underutilized spaces - dead malls like this one was, commercial parks, neglected city centers - and turn them into thriving female-led ecosystems. These are places not just where women shop, but where women lead, build, invest…and direct the flow of capital and culture.”

I saw a few more heads nod. Good. We’d seeded enough stories in the local media to make those claims feel familiar, even obvious.

“What we’re doing here, at these Vendare Centers, is more than just rehabilitating struggling properties. We’re piloting new ownership models. All our centers are 100% woman-owned, designed by a women-led architectural team, and operated by an entirely female executive staff. And all of our vendors are majority-female-owned - from Anchors like Hera's to chains such as VULNI, Tether and Thread, or BOOMfood. Even our local leaseholders here - Siren & Company, Dominari Tailoring, Lustre Salon, just to name a few - are all owned, staffed and managed by women.”

I took a breath and let my gaze travel, catching one young woman scribbling furiously into a notebook. She looked like a student. Good. Let her write it all down. This wasn’t just business. This was a playbook.

“In a few minutes,” I said, “I’ll share a few projections from our latest market analysis. But first, I want to anchor us in something simpler.”

I turned to look briefly at the backdrop behind me - the Vendare logo glowing soft on a deep, coral-toned screen. Then I turned back.

“The future of property,” I said, “isn’t just who owns buildings. It’s about who owns the rules. If we want to shape a future that works for women - financially, socially, educationally - we have to hold not just the deeds but the influence in the local councils. That’s another thing Vendare is doing, making inroads into government. One city at a time.”

I paused, letting the weight of the last line sit in the air.

‘Hold the deeds and the influence’: I liked that one. It was a quiet mantra I’d returned to more than once during these past few strange, thrilling years of transition. I took a sip from the glass of cucumber water placed discreetly at my side, eyes scanning the audience - at the faces watching me not with skepticism, but with an unmistakable, if hidden, hunger. Real hunger. That was new in these crowds, in these past few months. That had changed.

A year ago? Maybe half of them would’ve sat here with arms folded, waiting for us to justify our presence in this space. They’d be distracted. Now, the energy was different. They leaned forward. They took notes. They wanted in.

I adjusted my glasses and let myself drift inward, just for a second.

I hadn’t planned this, not at the beginning. I had my beliefs but I wasn’t really the crusader type in college. In fact, I had spent most of my twenties trying to survive boardrooms full of patronizing executives in male-dominated firms with groping partners who only gave me the time of day because of the curves I inherited from my abuela...

Back then I’d put on the blazer, hit every target I’d been given, and still watched promotion after promotion pass to men with less skill and more bluster. I spent the years, though, sharpening myself into something precise and palatable. Marketable. Something that appeared non-threatening. And though I learned how to use my big legs or my full Cuban breasts to my advantage, I dreamed of a day when I wouldn’t have to. 

Then came the tipping point - maybe three years ago, maybe even a bit earlier. A slow convergence. Women like me, smart women, women young and old, started connecting. Quietly at first. Sharing information. Sharing capital. The realization spread like a weather front: if we wanted structural power, we had to own the structure. We also noticed that men weren’t as interested as before, not as motivated, not as aggressive. The time was becoming ripe. 

That’s when Vendare found me.

I was recruited, of course. They had dossiers. They were women. They knew who they wanted - other women with edge, polish, a track record. But more importantly, women who were ready to stop asking politely and start taking what they wanted. From men.

Since then? Everything has accelerated. Property. Culture. Economics. Even biology, some were starting to whisper. I didn’t know what to believe about the last one - and I’d read the headlines today from HHS - but I couldn’t deny what I was seeing. Women were growing into new roles - not just in business, but in political influence, educational direction, and in even in everyday households. The men, at the same time, seemed to be stepping back, making it that much easier for us. And I liked it, this new world. I liked who I was becoming inside it, and I wanted to make myself, and other women, a bigger part. 

To the crowd, I continued speaking, giving them a speech I’d delivered countless times. “Mira touched on a little of this before, but let me tell you a bit about The Vendare Group and this beautiful new center you’re all sitting in. Vendare is a women-owned and women-led real estate group. Our mission is straightforward: to return space - economic, physical, cultural - into the hands of women. We specialize in acquiring overlooked or underperforming urban properties: malls that have emptied, districts long neglected, office parks passed over by big development groups.”

I lifted my chin, growing a little taller in my heels as the conviction behind the words hit me again.

“We don’t just buy them. We remake them. We shape them into thriving, women-forward community hubs. Centers like this one.” I gestured gently around the Vendare Center’s polished atrium. “A space not just for commerce, but for culture. For leadership. For ownership.”

A breath. I could feel them listening.

“Our current portfolio includes over a hundred commercial properties across eleven states. Fourteen major lifestyle and retail centers like this. Dozens of strategic partnerships with female-led investment firms, planning groups, and designers.”

I let that land.

“And we’re not stopping there.”

The screen behind me shifted…

==========================================================

thank you to klubie1740 for the base of the second image. Please check out his DeviantArt HERE