02/12/2025
So, I was stuck in court last week and took some notes on what I observed that I want to share with all of you. I hope this hits for you.
Cheers to the Women Who Keep Showing Up in Courtrooms Not Built for Them. by Patsy Stone, Esq. (and her liver)
Darlings, gather ‘round. Top off your coffee, your champagne, or whatever keeps you vertical in the morning. I’m here today to propose a toast to you. Yes, you, the fabulous, furious, unkillable women of the legal profession.
Because let’s be honest: the courtroom was not designed with us in mind.
Not our voices. (Commanding male tones are the stereotype, right?)
Not our faces. (Anyone ever judge a male colleague for not wearing makeup in court?!)
Not our shoes. (God forbid you click too loudly or, heaven forbid, wear something comfortable.)
Not our schedules. (I swear, men never have doctor appointments or kid school-run duties.)
Not our biology. (Soooo many things. Morning sickness. Cramps. A UTI. Take your pick.)
Not our boundaries. (I’ll just leave this one right here.)
Certainly not our sanity. (“Hysterical” has a long history—we won’t unpack it today.)
And yet—we show up anyway.
Every. Single. Day.
We show up when we’re sick, exhausted, grieving, hormonal, overworked, underpaid, underestimated, interrupted, talked over, dismissed, or mistaken for the court reporter for the 47th time this month. (Not that we don’t love the court reporters, but... Objection, Your Honor. Assumes facts not in evidence. I would never dress this fabulous as a court reporter. Cheers!)
But still, y’all, we show up.
We show up even when opposing counsel—usually male, often loud, always confident in ways that defy logic... leans over with that look on his face like he’s about to explain Supplemental Pleadings Rule 1.190 to us, as though we didn’t draft our first amendment before his mother finished labor. As though we didn’t sit next to him in the same law school classroom. Smh.
We show up when judges call the younger male attorney “Counsel” and call us “Miss” or “Ma’am” or “the lady lawyer.” (The last one was me in the 90s, and I can still hear the judge’s voice in my head as he addressed the men by name or by “Counsel,” and then turned to me with, “let’s hear from the lady lawyer now.”)
We show up when the clerk asks if we’re the interpreter.
We show up when the bailiff looks past us and says, “No, just the attorneys at the table right now, miss.”
We show up when no one expects us to win.
We show up when everyone is hoping we’ll lose.
And then *because we are who we are, and because we’re awesome* we win anyway.
We show up. Whether it’s like me, killing it with our binders and our Diet Dew in our tote, armed with unshakeable I-know-my-case-and-caselaw confidence, we show up. We show up with our lipstick armor, our heels that double as weapons, our jackets that cost more than opposing counsel’s dignity, and our motions that read like precision-guided missiles.
We show up. Not all of us wear stilettos or power blazers, but don’t be fooled for a second. The woman in the soft cardigan, sensible flats, and pearls is often the one who absolutely levels the room. We are the silent storm: herbal tea in hand, case law memorized, objections honed to razor-edge, and confidence steady as bedrock. While everyone underestimates us, we glide right past the noise, kick the courtroom door open with quiet authority, and win our cases with precision—not volume. We are living proof that you don’t need spikes or leather to be a force. Just competence, calm, and the kind of confidence that doesn’t need to announce itself.
And so, to every woman who has ever walked into a courtroom that wasn’t built for her and still managed to command it: this glass is raised for you. For your grit, your grace, your unbothered excellence, and the way you keep showing up even when the world seems desperate for you to sit down. This is just the first half of the toast... the celebration of our resilience, our humor, our defiance, and our absolute refusal to disappear.
But the story doesn’t end with simply showing up.
In Part Two, we’re stepping into the next chapter: how we don’t just survive these courtrooms, we transform them. How we reshape the culture, rewrite the expectations, and rebuild this profession in our own unstoppable image.
Stay tuned, darlings. The next round is about to be poured. Cheers ☆ Patsy
Ai made me this picture and presumably this is a mimosa! Hahaha!
