[I’ve written about this before; these days, I think many of us can use the reminder, though]
Decades ago, I offered to help the (then) wife of my dear friend and then-employer (Stephen Webster) with a birthday surprise for him. I agreed to deliver a box set of re-released original Planet of the Apes films to him while they were having a meal at a nice restaurant, with friends.
Oh, and I would be wearing a gorilla suit.
I thought it was a great idea and she seemed stuck since the original “Ape” bailed so I literally volunteered to do this. After I hung up with her, though, my brain said to me “Oh hell, what have I just agreed to do?! I’m going to look an idiot…”
I thought some more and the old saying “in for a penny, in for a pound” popped in my head. I had originally been a theatre major so not only could I do this, I decided I would be a gorilla; in fact, I would be the best gorilla I could be.
On the appointed day, I parked my car, put on that gorilla suit (I had already blacked out around my eyes to make sure he wouldn’t recognize me) grabbed the gift bag, and headed out. My then new boyfriend, who had not met my friends yet, agreed to follow me and take some photos.
On a Saturday evening, in mid-July Columbus, Ohio heat and humidity, I gorilla’ed down a crowded neighborhood sidewalk, making ape noises at random people. I gorilla’ed into the restaurant, right past the maître d’ (at whom I gorilla-hooted), and found the foursome.
Then the fun really started. I abused the poor victim and his wife and the other couple dining with them… but especially him. I pulled his hair, sniffed bits, put my fingers into his food, made lots of ape-ish noises, and even threw bread. Then, as magnificently as I could, I chucked the gift at the honoree, made very excited ape noises while beating my chest, and left, still gorilla-ing all the way back to my car, unrevealed.
The people in the place had laughed and stared and everyone had (I think) a great time. This was before ubiquitous cell phones so there are few photos and no videos, but the crowd seemed entertained.
The next Monday, at the studio, Steve excitedly told me the story of what had happened. He said how amazing the ape had been, how the person really pulled it off, and most of all that he couldn’t figure out who it was! I totally played along for hours. Days, actually.
He was stunned when, eventually, he found out it had been me. If I remember correctly, I had to make ape noises before he got it. It was wonderful.
So, why am I sharing this story? Because I was completely liberated by that suit. I could never imagine doing half what I did in my regular clothes, but wearing the costume, I could be the ape. I could do anything!
In fact, to this day, every time I have to do something I haven’t done before, or that scares me for some other reason, I remember putting on the gorilla suit. I do this when faced with some things I have to do as a lawyer. Still. It gives me courage. Remember, courage isn’t not being scared; it’s being scared and doing whatever anyway.
These days we need to be courageous. Extra courageous. We all need to put on our virtual gorilla suits.
For the creatives reading this, I encourage you to do this particularly in your business. Play the role of the fabulous artist. Dress how you would if you were a famous artist. Just go with it. Pretend you have confidence. Do this especially if you are normally shy and self-deprecating. Pretend you are everything you want to be. Just have fun with it.
Remember that if someone laughs at you, in a mean way, that is about them, not you. If you’ll pardon my language: fuck ’em. If they feel uncomfortable, that is the story they are telling themselves. Not your circus, not your monkeys. You can tell yourself your own story: this is fun; this is exhilarating; this is silly… whatever you want to tell yourself.
As others have said, fake it until you make it. Fake the personal image and the confidence. Wear a “costume” and play the role. At worst, you’ll have fun. Over time, though, you will realize that you really are that courageous person–and none of it was every really fake.
I am still that gorilla. Decades later.