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Mimi's
Bio
Since 1984,
Mimi has spoken at over 900 events in dozens of industries, in over
100 cities across North America and to audiences throughout
Europe. Mimi has spoken at company events for 32 of the
Fortune 500, 18 of which are listed in the Fortune 100. She holds
a Masters Degree in Instructional Design from Columbia University
and was a staff Human Resources Specialist with Walt Disney Company,
Northrop Aircraft, and Rockwell International.
Mimi has been
a featured guest on countless radio stations including KABC Radio
in Los Angeles and numerous television appearances including Good
Day New York. She’s been the subject of over 200 articles
in newspapers and magazines, having been featured in the Chicago
Tribune, Boston Globe, Denver Post, Ladies Home Journal, and
Harvard
Management Review.
Mimi has shared
the stage with such notable celebrities as Colin Powell, Elizabeth
Dole, Maya Angelou, and Katie Couric.
Mimi's
Own Words
Mimi on her, ahem, other qualifications.
"Be Bold & Mighty Forces Will Come to Your Aid."
– Basil King
This is one
of the statements I live by. I heard Anthony Hopkins quote it on
Inside the Actor's Studio, one of my favorite interview
shows.
The best way
I've found to be bold is to laugh at life, and at ourselves! People
are bold when they feel confidence and competent. It's easier to
be bold when you know what you're doing. I believe everything is
either for our entertainment or our education. So, if it's not fun,
I must be learning. But I believe education can and should be entertaining.
Maybe if education were more entertaining, more people would be
well educated!
I was raised
with a comedic view of the world. Mom and Dad introduced us to the
fabulous comedy of Sid Caesar, Imogene Coca, Milton Berle and even
Lenny Bruce. As children, my little brother and I memorized "2000
Year Old Man" routines and Nichols and May comedy sketches
to perform around the house. Mom and Dad, who were a very literate
and cultural duo, thought my take on reality was smart and destined
for greatness. "One day you'll be a star," my mother would
tell me. She knew I was gifted in comedy and singing and thought
it was only a matter of time. Little did she know I'd end up entertaining
people in suits all day long. I think she thought it would be a
little more glamorous, you know, with Broadway openings, red carpets,
and caviar (which I never did learn to like).
I did have lots
of leading roles in high school plays, college musicals and summer
stock, but my start in television was purely innocent. In fact,
my parents got their first television the month I was born. That
was my birth present. I have a photo of my mother nursing me with
a bottle in front of a humongous square cabinet encasing a tiny
oval screen. I brought the photo to my college communications class
on McLuhan at the professor's request. He thought it was a perfect
example of a McLuhan age orientation to life.
My father is
a doctor and I think deep down he always hoped one of us would go
into the medical field. We come from a long line of brilliant doctors.
As it turned out, my brother is the M.D, and my sister, a speech
pathologist. It was a revelation when Dad said, "You know Mimi,
what you do is a mixture of mental health and showbiz." He
was right. But now I've gotten ahead of myself.
After college,
I went to drama school in England for a year. My goal was to be
Shakespearean trained. I had been a drama major in college, but
it was "the ultimate" to study at a prestigious acting
academy in London. I was on my way, or so I thought.
When I got back
to the States, I went to New York to become a "star."
My first audition was up a filthy flight of stairs in a smelly studio
in the middle of Times Square. When the sweaty little man told me
to "take off your clothes, honey," I thought one of my
drama school buddies had recruited this guy for a practical joke.
I declined in my best British accent, "You must be joking."
"No little
girl, this is a nudie show --'Oh Calcutta'-- so take off your clothes."
Shocked, I muttered something and made a quick exit-stage left.
For the first time, Times Square looked dirty to me (what I could
see of it through a waterfall of my own tears). That was my first
and last audition for Broadway. I decided to play to the captive
audiences of the classroom instead. I enrolled at Teachers College,
Columbia University to become a "star" of the teaching
world.
For the last
25 years I've been a teacher--first, a teacher of teachers at Teachers
College, Columbia University--then a teacher of managers, business
owners, engineers, secretaries, doctors and nurses, and customer
service people. And education has always been entertaining when
I'm doing it. That's not as boastful as it sounds--I've always laughed
at my own jokes. So, if I'm going to teach, I ought to enjoy the
process.
My efforts resulted
one day in 1982 with a challenge from a group of my "students"
who were first-level managers at Northrop Aircraft: "Why don't
you try being a stand-up comic?"
Piece of cake! The folks in my classrooms were always in stitches.
Why not entertain the world with my wit and get paid for it to boot?
I took a ten-week
comedy class. Each member of our class put together a seven-minute
routine. We debuted at The Improvisation,
a popular Los Angeles comedy club, to a full house packed with critics-all
our friends and relatives. The critics raved. I was a smash hit.
I was ready to launch my new career with comic lines about weight
control, being single, and shopping as an emotional experience.
I brought down the house. They made a videotape. My mother still
invites total strangers into her house to watch the videotape of
her daughter, the stand-up comic.
Fueled with
heady enthusiasm from by brilliant debut, I set forth to capture
Los Angeles. I performed in other comedy clubs, but my friends and
family weren't in the audience. Without them to appreciate my rapier
wit and brilliant comedic patter, comedy quickly turned from frolic
to labor. And the pay was worse than the audience. It always cost
me more to perform that I got paid for doing it.
The hours were
a nightmare. After half the night in the shadows of a smoke-filled
room, it would be my turn to go on stage to the accompaniment of
dozens of Bics flicking and glasses clinking. For seven minutes,
I'd deliver my side-splitting monologue to a half-filled room of
solemn-looking people who were clearly waiting for someone famous
to show up. At two in the morning, I'd drive home and fall into
bed just to get up in time to get to work at Northrop by eight a.m.
I am an escapee
from the human potential movement. In the 60's Jimi sang, "Are
you experienced?" I am experienced. I am experienced in TM,
est, Course in Miracles, holistic healing, Swami Muktananda, astral
travel, Baba Ram Dass, and spirulina. Also, aura reading, numerology,
breathing yoga, tarot cards, Zen meditation, reflexology, channeling,
astrology, psychic readings, and magnets as a healing thereapy.
I've used affirmations, mediations and mantras. I memorized The
Prophet, bought all the George Winston audio cassettes, and practiced
self-hypnosis and psycho-cybernetics.
And I got over
most of it. I'm now a converted capitalist. And my mother, who knows
these things, says the newly converted are the most fervent of anyone.
Human potential
processess aren't useless. And capitalism isn't bad -- taken in
moderation. As long as you don't let either one become your religion.
I now know you can be "enlightened" without being self-conscious
about it -- and you don't have to proselytize. People will change
their behavior when they want to. My talent and mission is to entertain
and educate. I like to tell people, "Maturity is a measurement
of how long you can put off a gratification." And I am passionate
with business people that you must put off a "hot buttons"
response ("I'm just sure...does it look like I have four hands?")
for a long-term result.
I teach people
to be bold. To be bold is to tell the truth to someone who needs
to hear it. It takes courage to mean what you say, and to resist
the urge to say it "mean." At the end of L. Frank Baum's
Wizard of OZ, when the Lion requests
courage, the Wizard tells him he already has it. The Wizard says,
"All you need is some visible manifestation so everyone will
know you have it." I give people the courage and tools to communicate
to get results. When they see the visible result, they know they
have been successful. For me, the process is always comedy, even
with a lump in my throat. If you can laugh at it, it won't
get you.
Mimi 's Hairshare
"Some people have Bad Hair Days. I've just gone through
a Bad Hair year!"
Mimi Donaldson, June 2000
So, what's the
deal with all the different looks? Mimi's been seen sporting a myriad
of colors over the last few years, and she's become nearly as famous
for her different shades as she is for her winning speeches. Here,
for the first time, get the real scoop. And, we don't mean 31 flavors…
There are only three options in this hair repertoire.
So far, that is.
One of the traits
that endears Mimi to thousands of people is her authenticity. She
is herself in every situation. Whether Mimi is on stage in front
of thousands of people, or writing books for an international readership,
she tells the truth about her life in humorous detail, for the purpose
of entertaining and enlightening her audience. Mimi is not afraid
of what people think, and is wildly entertaining with her humor-packed
stories about herself, and her musings on life in general.
Mimi is a comedian
in that she states the obvious in a original way. People frequently
remark that she exposes the things they haven't had the guts to
face. And, because she does it in a non-threatening, sidesplitting
style, people laugh. Mimi understands that people don't change through
being lectured to; they change through hearing truth, mixed with
humor. "What better way to accomplish that than to make
myself the example," she says. "And, to be deeply honest."
Mimi's sharings
are so similar to what other people experience that people say:
"Gosh, I didn't realize that my life is so funny, but it is.
I can either laugh about it or complain about it. Since Mimi is
laughing about her life, maybe I can laugh at my own."
Mimi believes that if you can laugh at whatever ails you, it won't
get you. It can't control you.
Which brings
us to her Hair Sharings. Let's hear Mimi's thoughts
on this much talked about subject. To set the record straight once
and for all…
Over a certain
age, everyone dyes their hair! Let's get real! Ninety-nine percent
of women in the speaking world who are graying, and even some of
the men, have dye jobs. That's just the way it is. I've been on
the platform with many internationally respected women, and let
me tell you, they all dye their hair! I was determined to be different,
a trailblazer to love my authentic silver locks. I would stick it
out and be proud of my "courage." In the beginning,
that was easy. I hadn't become jaded. Yet.
Okay, I admit
it; I'm a proselytizer. When I do something new, I think it's the
best thing since sliced bread. So when I let my gray hair show in
1990, I loved it and went around telling people how real I was.
It was a great bonding tool with other women. So many were drawn
to my naturally beautiful silver hair. I soon discovered that many
women wished they could stop dyeing their own hair. They would come
up to me after speeches and say, "Are those little black
edges around your face natural, or do you do that?" Then
I'd hear the "if only" statements that women
do: "If only my hair would look like yours, I would let
it grow out."
My streak of
hair self-righteousness lasted nearly ten years. Last year, I snapped.
I couldn't stand it any longer-being the only speaker on the platform
with gray hair, so I did a little experiment. Mine just happened
to be in public, in front of thousands of people. Now, after three
different hair colors, I think I've discovered a few things about
life.
I always felt
that when we are truly enlightened as a society, and we women are
no longer afraid of our age (perhaps youth won't be worshipped like
it is now), then we will all let our hair go natural and we'll look
at each other with respectful curiosity and admiration. We will
openly ask one another, "How did your hair get gray in that
shade or pattern?" This I see in our future. It will be ideal.
The shift has already begun. Now, when I travel outside of Los Angeles,
especially when I'm in certain pockets of metropolitan populations
like Denver, where I speak a lot, I will go to the gym and see half
of the women with gray hair. It's just fantastic. And, the hair
is so pretty, so soft, with a natural glow because chemicals aren't
stripping it of its luster. I look at these women and for many of
them, their hair radiates sheen.
Then I'm hit
with a reality check: We're not there yet… Perhaps soon. I'm
hoping. Alas, in my world--the world of, in the words of my Dad,
"mental health and showbiz" – almost none
of the women have gray hair.
Needless to
say, I felt it was time for a change. I was tired of being the only
speaker with gray hair at a convention. So, I had a brilliant idea,
or so I thought. I'd go platinum.
Blond Hair:
When I decided to change the gray, I couldn't go straight to brown
hair. I mean, no one would believe that I could have brown hair!
I was one of those who grayed early, and the last time I
 was
a brunette, I was in my twenties. So, I came up with a creative
plan: I would transition with platinum hair. That way, when the
gray roots grew out, they wouldn't show too much and I could go
to the beauty parlor less often. I didn't have to go every three
or four weeks for my clash with chemicals. I could go every six
or eight weeks. Phew.
Besides, the
platinum was supposed to make me look young. Like Carole Lombard
or Jean Harlow. So, I went to the hairdresser and said, "Think
Debbie Harry, think Annie Lenox in the 80's--Billy Idol."
I still feel like a teenager, for Pete's sake. I have endless energy,
so why not look the part? But it didn't work. All I looked like
was a lady who had gray hair who decided to go platinum instead.
Not only that, the color is apparently difficult to achieve. A pink
highlighted "mistake" was corrected the next day with
a soft orange color. Panic-stricken, I went to the beauty supply
store where the friendly purple-headed clerk assured me I could
banish the orange with a rinse from the 50's called "white
minx" which diminished the orange hue to pale tangerine.
All these chemicals fried my hair so I followed everyone's advice
which ranged from hot oil treatments to raw eggs applied onto my
head. I was fed up.
Brown Hair:
Then I had an epiphany; yes, another one. One day a client of mine
was going to send a car to pick me up at the airport. She said,
"What do you look like?" I replied, "Oh,
I'm easy to spot; I'm
 short
and dark." That's the way I think of myself. Then I said,
"No, actually I'm not dark anymore, but maybe I should be."
The woman asked, "What do you mean?" to which
I replied, "I have platinum blond hair with black and gray
roots." We both had a good laugh.
The brown hair
is still new; only since May 4, 2000. There are still many pictures
and brochures floating around with me smiling beneath another color.
You may have seen them. (Even some of my products display the glowing,
bright colors of silver or platinum.) It has been hilarious, hearing
people's thoughts. I wonder if people hear themselves when they
think they're giving me a compliment. "Oh, Mimi, you look
twenty years younger!" Well, how old did they think I
was?! Or they run up and tell me, "You look so much better!"
 Stay
tuned. There's no telling where I'll go from here. I'm open to whatever
happens, because who I am on the inside is not who I am on the outside.
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