Let me start this rant by disclaiming a little detail about my life: I have always hated to dress up. To me, heels are practically foot prisons, and skirts were always too short or too constricting. At twenty years old, I still consider wearing jewelry to be bothersome.
Don’t get me wrong – I will occasionally wear lipstick and maybe even a cotton dress if my plans call for such measures. But I often feel like the only gal in the pack who does all of these things only to be exhausted with them shortly thereafter. My feet will scream, my makeup will smudge, and I’m just ready to go home to my sweatpants.
There are some who would perceive such trends as an Achilles heal in my womanhood; there are others, hopefully, in the very same position as myself. I have long accepted this disobedience to femininity and ornament not as a flaw, but simply as a detail of who I am. I am comfortable in my skin, and in my “unflattering” clothing.
Another personal disclaimer: I’ve always hated to dress up, but I have long strived for the college-degree-followed-by-a-corporate-job frame of life. As a tomboy with career woman dreams, I am constantly finding myself torn between the comfort of a thrift store sweatshirt and the opportune potential of a well-structured blazer.
This is a lifestyle choice (if you could call it such a thing) that most college students wouldn’t outwardly disagree with, but what about most employers? What could be lost to my appearance when I transition between these crowds? That change in my life marked by a change in my clothing has always been a bewildering, slightly terrifying concern for me — growing more burdensome the closer I inch towards being fully cast into adulthood.
Unfortunately, I don’t have the space allotted in one article to discuss the appearance-based pressures that women exclusively and repeatedly face in all facets of life. What I am discussing is appearance-based judgment in the professional world: where men and women alike are judged for their outfit choice and habits of personal upkeep. This opens up a whole new can of worms, a realm where no individual is safe. Where, then, do all us casual-embracing folks fall in this superficial mix? Is there any solace to be found?
Considering all the hard work I’ve poured into my reaching my professional goals—which college students must do in spite of coursework and extracurricular involvements—it’s unsettling to think it could all be in vain due to someone else having a nicer outfit. Somehow, all the qualifications earned up to the point of an interview could be less substantial than an individual’s choice of slacks over a pencil skirt, loafers rather than stilettos.
So is it about being the best candidate for the job, or just looking like you are?
I can’t help but feel like this is a reversion of sorts, an unfair reality, like the professional community is actually just a group of snickering junior-high girls. While this isn’t literally the case, it is startling how much pressure is placed on a twenty-somethings’ accomplishments prior to graduation in comparison to the pressure placed on appearances following.
I cringe at the notion of dressing up for interviews, but I know there will soon come a time where I have to coordinate such outfits every day. I’ll require a wardrobe of button downs and tailored pants and accessories for every season. My flannels and university crewnecks will fall to the wayside, my Converse will seem inappropriate. I will eventually succumb to this superficial yet professional expectation – but at what cost?
I wish I had an answer to the questions I’ve posed, but I am only in a position to ask and not to tell. I am simply contending with this confliction of mine, stirred up by a combination of factors within my control and out of it: my own decision to enter the professional realm, the (often) insanely superficial society where professionals are no exception, and what these expectations may spell out for my fate as both an employee, and a modern, tomboy woman.
(photocred: http://www.wildfang.com/tb-collection.html)