The other day I had a conversation with a coworker about dressing "better" for work. I consider this coworker very fashionable and generally well-dressed. I consider myself often dressed in jeans, and I think jeans might constitute the major part of my work "uniform."
I grew up in the 90s. Denim and I cannot be separated.
Yesterday, however, I decided to defy both the weather report (rain) and my higher-ed administrative surroundings (something more casual than business casual--probably just casual). I wore a pencil skirt, striped ¾-sleeve tee and ballet flats. And I flat-ironed my hair in an attempt to keep the rain from beckoning its natural curl to come out. (Note: I do not always mind my curly hair. I mind my curly hair when my current haircut is a pixie, with which curls don’t always jibe. [Second note: I do not have such a punky haircut. It wouldn't go with my pencil skirt, ever.])
I felt cute and therefore a little better about myself than usual. I’m not exactly sure how to treat the fact that my opinion of my appearance so strongly correlates with my self-worth. I am certainly not someone who spends hours in front of a mirror every day, nor do I change outfits multiple times before deciding on one (I have almost always decided on my outfit prior to getting out of bed, and in fact I sometimes refuse to get out of bed until I know what I’m going to wear). But I do like to look put-together and “pretty.”
Of course I got compliments on my outfit yesterday, because it wasn’t my uniform of skinny jeans, nice top and sweater. Which, if you work in a casual office, is more than acceptable. I try to wear sneakers pretty rarely, since I consider the shoe to be the deciding factor on an outfit’s casualness level. You can really dress up a tank top and jeans with a cute ballet flat, bootie, or pump. Not that I own pumps. I should work on that.
So my coworker and I discussed our desire to dress nicely for work. Skirts and heels were keywords in our discussion. Perhaps even a splash of lipstick (a noticeable shade of which I was also wearing yesterday). But our office environment doesn’t really invite such outfits. Such outfits, in fact, invites questions as to what the special occasion is. Questions like, “Are you going somewhere special after work?” or “Do you have an event today?” In many cases, I do. I always dress professionally on the day of an event. I’m not going to wear jeans when a guest speaker I booked a hotel for is coming in to present a paper. Ironically, these are always days I run around more, in my heels and pencil skirts. When you generally wear flats, running around in heels for a day is less than pleasant.
But whatever happened to the mantra “dress for the job you want?” Don’t get me wrong. I like and appreciate my job. The people I work for are top-notch scholars in their field, but they are also down-to-earth individuals who truly appreciate the behind-the-scenes administrative assistance I provide to help them do their job better. But do I want the word “assistant” to be in my job title permanently? No. So let’s say assistants wear jeans. And coordinators, managers, and directors wear pencil skirts. (Technically I am also a coordinator. And when I coordinate, I wear a skirt.) By the “dress for the job you want,” mantra, I should wear an outfit that does not include jeans daily. And such a job will obviously fall into my lap.
This, of course, necessitates that I know what job I want. And I haven’t fully determined that yet. But maybe it involves less jeans. By knowing what I want to wear, do I know what I want to do?
This is all crazy backward and turned-around thinking. But I have to relate an anecdote that just might prove me right.
Yesterday, the day of the pencil-skirt-just-because, was also the day I began planning the largest event I’ve yet coordinated. Event planning is by far my favorite part of my job, and I have been anticipating this event for quite some time. The dates were just set yesterday, and I began reserving space and branding the design for communications. How can I not think my coordinator outfit somehow influenced the influx of coordinator work?
Dress for the job you want, or even just dress for the task you wish you had to do today.
I grew up in the 90s. Denim and I cannot be separated.
Yesterday, however, I decided to defy both the weather report (rain) and my higher-ed administrative surroundings (something more casual than business casual--probably just casual). I wore a pencil skirt, striped ¾-sleeve tee and ballet flats. And I flat-ironed my hair in an attempt to keep the rain from beckoning its natural curl to come out. (Note: I do not always mind my curly hair. I mind my curly hair when my current haircut is a pixie, with which curls don’t always jibe. [Second note: I do not have such a punky haircut. It wouldn't go with my pencil skirt, ever.])
I felt cute and therefore a little better about myself than usual. I’m not exactly sure how to treat the fact that my opinion of my appearance so strongly correlates with my self-worth. I am certainly not someone who spends hours in front of a mirror every day, nor do I change outfits multiple times before deciding on one (I have almost always decided on my outfit prior to getting out of bed, and in fact I sometimes refuse to get out of bed until I know what I’m going to wear). But I do like to look put-together and “pretty.”
Of course I got compliments on my outfit yesterday, because it wasn’t my uniform of skinny jeans, nice top and sweater. Which, if you work in a casual office, is more than acceptable. I try to wear sneakers pretty rarely, since I consider the shoe to be the deciding factor on an outfit’s casualness level. You can really dress up a tank top and jeans with a cute ballet flat, bootie, or pump. Not that I own pumps. I should work on that.
So my coworker and I discussed our desire to dress nicely for work. Skirts and heels were keywords in our discussion. Perhaps even a splash of lipstick (a noticeable shade of which I was also wearing yesterday). But our office environment doesn’t really invite such outfits. Such outfits, in fact, invites questions as to what the special occasion is. Questions like, “Are you going somewhere special after work?” or “Do you have an event today?” In many cases, I do. I always dress professionally on the day of an event. I’m not going to wear jeans when a guest speaker I booked a hotel for is coming in to present a paper. Ironically, these are always days I run around more, in my heels and pencil skirts. When you generally wear flats, running around in heels for a day is less than pleasant.
But whatever happened to the mantra “dress for the job you want?” Don’t get me wrong. I like and appreciate my job. The people I work for are top-notch scholars in their field, but they are also down-to-earth individuals who truly appreciate the behind-the-scenes administrative assistance I provide to help them do their job better. But do I want the word “assistant” to be in my job title permanently? No. So let’s say assistants wear jeans. And coordinators, managers, and directors wear pencil skirts. (Technically I am also a coordinator. And when I coordinate, I wear a skirt.) By the “dress for the job you want,” mantra, I should wear an outfit that does not include jeans daily. And such a job will obviously fall into my lap.
This, of course, necessitates that I know what job I want. And I haven’t fully determined that yet. But maybe it involves less jeans. By knowing what I want to wear, do I know what I want to do?
This is all crazy backward and turned-around thinking. But I have to relate an anecdote that just might prove me right.
Yesterday, the day of the pencil-skirt-just-because, was also the day I began planning the largest event I’ve yet coordinated. Event planning is by far my favorite part of my job, and I have been anticipating this event for quite some time. The dates were just set yesterday, and I began reserving space and branding the design for communications. How can I not think my coordinator outfit somehow influenced the influx of coordinator work?
Dress for the job you want, or even just dress for the task you wish you had to do today.
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