The Dress Code
The Dress Code
by Nancy Martin
In the summertime, newspapers and internet articles abound on the subject of appropriate dress for the workplace. Since I mostly wear yoga pants and t-shirts to work--always with my bedroom slippers--this subject is beyond the limits of my expertise. Plus, it turns out I live in the 3rd worst dressed city in the nation. (#1 is Boston. #2 is LA. # 3 is Da Burgh.) Here in Pittsburgh, you can wear a Steeler jersey into just about any social occasion. (Where do you think the "black" in black tie comes from?)
But every summer my husband comes home from the bank at least once remarking upon the summer interns who wear sandals to work. And I'm not talking about the female interns. (The young ladies wear flipflops! Only once, of course. Bankers do not--uh--pussyfoot when it comes to wardrobe disapproval. I have predicted here before that if spats make a comeback, the trend will start with bankers.) Guys in sandals? Can I just say, generally: Ew? Hairy toes with raggedy yellow nails? Double Ew!
Summer shoes are a big workplace problem, I gather. Peep toes and sling backs--iffy choices if you want to be taken seriously. And the height of a woman's heel is apparently inversely related to how seriously co-workers are supposed to take her. In your view, how high is too high? I wear flats most of the time (except in winter, when it's Dansko clogs) so I have no perspective except to say that--like porn--I think know too high when I see it.
But every time I am tempted to criticize footwear, though, I remember the time I went to my job (teaching junior high English, if you can imagine) and shortly after lunch I realized I was wearing two different shoes entirely. (Long story short: I couldn't decide which pair went best with my outfit. And I neglected to make the final decision.) So I can't be trusted.
The other big summer dress code issue deals with young ladies who show too much skin. "The more skin you show, the less power you project," said one HR expert recently. Lawyers, in particular, have to be careful what kind of image they're projecting in court, apparently. My daughter, recently hired to teach at a law school in Texas, has gone rooting through her closet--digging past her maternity wardrobe and her new mommy shirts--to find the suits she used to wear a few years ago when she was practising law. She reports all the suits are big in the armpit. Now.......how can you lose weight in your armpits, we wondered? Except it probably isn't weight loss as much as a style change, but it's an expensive issue. Getting a tailor to cut new sleeve holes--and maybe it's impossible to make them smaller?--might be more expensive than simply buying a couple of new suits, right? Seems to me, a good tailor is worth her weight in thread, but I have never successfully sewn a proper sleeve, so I think this could be an expensive fix.
My sister, a former journalist, used to have a hot button when it came to bra straps. (That was before her paper went kablooey and she became a "freelance writer.") She said any glimpse of bra strap was too much. Nowadays, it seems bra straps are part of the outfit, so I can't tell.
Another workplace issue is perfume.
Now, I don't wear perfume, and I'm not terribly interested in the subject which makes me a throwback to Neanderthal days, but a few weeks ago, my husband and I went to the movie theater and sat behind two couples who were clearly out for a good time. Except one of the women was wearing so much perfume that my husband and I had to get up and move. It was overpowering! From two rows away, it smelled very nice, but how did her companions stand sitting next to her? I can't imagine trying to work in an office where somebody doused themselves in perfume. What's your opinion on this? Do you think years of wearing heavy perfume just renders your nose incapable of sniffing what everyone else smells from across the parking lot?
Not long ago, my husband and I attended one of those depressing workshops where an investment expert spends four hours explaining how much money you need to retire and how many more decades you'll need to work like dogs to acquire that much dough. I got so depressed that---okay, I'll admit it---I gave up mourning our 401K and started studying the other poor smucks---er, lovely people in the workshop. A single lady in the front row--she had planted herself as close to our (handsome and presumably well-invested) speaker as she could get without climbing into his lap---had a habit of fluffing her hair. It was amusing for the first half hour, but eventually I began to wonder if she had lice. Maybe she was unconsciously trying to call attention to herself, but, really, it got to be kinda disgusting. Keep your hands off your hair unless you're trying to make people think about Head n'Shoulders--that was my contribution to the investment workshop, but my husband didn't feel that was the kind of thing anybody wanted to hear that night, so I waited out in the hall while he asked an investment question I can't even spell, let alone explain, which is why he has the responsible job in our household and I left teaching long, long ago. (My7 mother reminds me that I'd be retired with a pension by now, but I told her no, instead I'd probably be in jail for murdering somebody.)
All in all, I'm glad I work alone. But lately I've heard a snarky opinion that yoga pants don't qualify as real pants. Now--hold on! What does that mean, exactly? I hesitate to ask, of course. I suspect Tim Gunn will disapprove of my daily wardrobe. (I am a big fan of Tim. But when he started to snark about my girl Hillary--well, I Am Not Amused.) But....if yoga pants aren't really pants, can I just go straight to plaid pajamas and forget the whole thing? I mean, college campuses all over the country seem to have decided pajamas are suitable classroom attire, so maybe the UPS man won't be horrified if he catches me in giant pink tartan?
Today, however, I am---of all places--in Vegas. (Yes, in August. Another long story, but I hope it will make an amusing blog in a couple of weeks.) If I can tear myself away from the poker tables---Hey, there's more than one way to beef up that 401K, right?--I hope to be able to share some insight into appropriate casino wear. Meanwhile, TLC fashionistas, please share your opinions. I can't wait to hear a little hot summer venting.
