Earlier this week, I found myself in Sydney, staying at a hotel I hadn't visited in over a decade. As I entered my room, I was hit with an eerie sense of déjà vu. Not only was it the same layout, but it appeared to be the very room where, years ago, my clothes caught fire at midnight...

Rewind to 2010. I'd entered a competition called Speakers Idol, put on by the National Speakers Association. I made it to the Nationals (which sounds more impressive than this feat was). This meant delivering a 10-minute keynote in front of 400 other speakers in a swanky hotel ballroom in Sydney. No pressure, right?

Just like a good reality show, the judges gave their feedback live. And they didn't hold back. They tore into what I was wearing, declaring that if I continued to dress like that, I'd never work with "the corporates". Ever.

(The irony? Corporates were my only clients at Inventium at that point.)

I kept it together on stage, but inside? I was crumbling.

As soon as I stepped off stage, I raced back to my hotel room and balled my eyes out.

I then stripped off my apparently offensive outfit and threw it casually on the electric stovetop, without giving a seconds thought (it was part of the kitchenette benchtop - a seemingly fine surface for clothes storage).

And I crawled into bed.

Fast forward to midnight. I wake up to find my clothes actually on fire. Turns out, the stove had been left on ever-so-slightly. And I awoke to a fire in my room (the hotel staff were not impressed).

Now, over a decade later, I've delivered 1,000+ keynote presentations, mostly to corporates.

But here's the real lesson: I've learned (many times) that I'm not everyone's cup of tea. And that's perfectly fine.

My style is quirky. I don't own a suit and I never learned how to walk in high heels. If you book me for a keynote, I'll be wearing sneakers. I might even wear denim.

But here's what I won't do: pretend to be someone I'm not. No masks, no fake personas, no well-rehearsed media-friendly sound bites. I will answer questions at Q&A time very honestly (especially about things that other people answer less honestly - such as the pitfalls and challenges of running a Four Day Week).

The next time someone criticises you for something as superficial as your style, remember this: They're not your audience. Your people are out there, and they'll appreciate you for exactly who you are – sneakers, denim, and all.

So go forth and be yourself. And maybe double-check that the stove is off before you go to bed.

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