I saw it coming out of the corner of my eye. Maybe it was the fake Uggs or the velour sweat pants that had "YUMMY" embroidered across the backside.

She was out of place in the small gathering, which was enough to get her the "look" - the human equivalent of an MRI scan, only instead of calculating your current state of health, the purpose is to rate you on the social food chain.

I knew that look well.

Whenever I pop in a Cartier or Louis Vuitton to ask for directions, the shop girls fix their steely gaze on me.

I felt sorry for the Uggs girl. As she approached the group, they pulled in their wagon trains together and closed in ranks.

Mean Girls, we like to believe, are an unpleasant vestige of our youth, that we've left behind those days of being socially streamed into either the popular cliques or the after-school clubs of outcasts. But insecurity and status tend to shadow us into adulthood.

Most of us at one time or another have, upon meeting new acquaintances, received the 30-second verdict.

To be fair, we ourselves crank up the scanner, too.

For men, this is the time when bragging rights over their stock market portfolio, property listings, Phuket vacation home and name card details trumps any thinning hairline, rice barrel belly and leather-like man purses.

But women, even commanding women, are made to walk the plank of style over substance.

Hillary Clinton, arguably one of the most powerful women in the world, has to withstand as much criticism over her efforts as the US Secretary of State as in her choice of clothing.

A peaceful end to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict would be appreciated so much more if only she negotiated the pact in a slimming Chanel creation rather than the department store pants suits she favors.

Ironically, Mean Girls who are largely insecure themselves, prey on the cultural messages that heighten our own insecurities.

The modus operandi is to form a power base of selected insiders and grow stronger through excluding others. A poor grasp of manners works to their advantage with unreturned and ignored invitations substituting for outright rejection.

However, with age comes maturity. Or does it? Do we really care if we're seen as winners or losers? Honestly, many of us do.

We place a value on ourselves according to what we accomplish against the shifting winds of society. We place that same judgment on others in line with their achievements and possessions. And it all becomes an ocean of subjectivity.

Accessing one another by our accomplishments, looks and background, though, is a game for suckers.

It was Ecclesiastes who, viewing mankind's drive, wrote: "But as I looked at everything I had worked so hard to accomplish, it was all so meaningless - like chasing the wind."

He observed tangible items are useless once we die. Our deeds are quickly forgotten by the living. And the wealth we build up is passed to others, whom we have no control over.

It's comforting to know that the real measure of a man or woman can be made by the positive impact they had on others.

The sibling who always had your back on the schoolyard. The friend who patiently listened to your woes. The chatty neighbor who solicited donations for the homeless shelter. Your boss who acted as your sounding board long after you left the company. Your spouse who forgave you too many times to count.

Our true value is not subject to the prescribed thoughts and conditions of others.

Our true value is the legacy we leave in life and in death.

It cost me a double ice mocha, but the Uggs girl and I ditched the group later and went for coffee.

But I'm no saint. I really wanted to know where to get those velour pants.