Why love vanilla milkshakes and ugly dogs

Today is one of those delightfully weird days that makes me smile. It’s National Vanilla Milkshake Day and Ugliest Dog Day. Yes, both. On the same day. Someone at the National Day Calendar has a sense of humour.

It celebrates two things the world usually dismisses without a second thought: vanilla and ugly dogs.

No one brags about being vanilla. It’s shorthand for boring, beige, and basic. But blend it with ice cream, and suddenly it’s the MVP of summer: comfort in a cup, nostalgic, and gloriously itself.

Ugly dogs? You know the type. Bald patches, googly eyes, tongues that refuse to stay put, and the kind of face that makes you go “aww” and “oh no” simultaneously. Yet they prance across stages, tails wagging, winning blue ribbons just for showing up as exactly what they are.

There’s something magnetic about that kind of honesty.

Own the ugly, and it becomes your edge.

Take the Argyle diamond mine in Western Australia. They struck diamonds, but not the kind everyone wanted. These were brown. Dull. The kind of stones that made jewellers whisper, “Maybe we could use these as paperweights?”

Until then, diamonds were usually either classic white or warmly golden or ‘Champagne’ if you wanted to get fancy. Urban legend has it that the global advertising company, Saatchi & Saatchi swooped in with a stroke of genius. Rebrand the brown ones as Cognac. One of marketing’s sharpest flips.

It’s not just old-school brilliance. Crocs, those clunky shoes are now fashion week regulars. Crocs stopped apologising and leaned in. Ugly became iconic.

The same goes for storytelling. Don’t polish the life out of your stories. When you’re honest about the rough bits, you earn something money can’t buy: trust.

So, how do you showcase your “uglies” without making everyone squirm?

First, make it real. Skip the humblebrags. You know the type: “My greatest weakness? I just care too much.” We see you, LinkedIn Larry.

Second, don’t manufacture flaws. Don’t apologise for things no one noticed. Saying “Sorry about my accent” when the audience didn’t hear one? Congratulations, now they’re hunting for it instead of listening to your brilliant point about quarterly projections.

Third, own what’s obvious. Bombed a presentation? Flopped a launch? Say so, then share what came next. It’s not about wallowing, it’s about the insight.

When you’re brave enough to share the messy bits, you give others permission to do the same.

So, what’s your ugly? And how will you turn it into your edge?