What Do Clothes Have to Do With It? Quite a Bit, Apparently.
Back in July, I was invited to join a post-work “Think Tank” hosted by Boston-based clothing brand, Brass. I wasn’t even exactly sure what this Think Tank was, but I knew that I was about to have a conversation about clothes with a group of intelligent, professional women. And that there would be wine.
I was excited, but also a bit anxious. What do I wear to an event hosted by a clothing brand? The feeling that I was not going to be fashionable enough was nibbling at my confidence. I wanted to look good, but I didn’t want to look like I tried too hard either. That would be worse. Do I wear any of my Brass pieces? I decided against that; I felt that was kind of like wearing a band T-shirt to the concert. That morning I finally settled on a simple black-and-white outfit with gold jewelry.
Little did I know that all of my event-related clothes angst was helpful practice for the conversation that lay ahead.
When the elevator doors sprung open and I stepped into the studio, it was both a literal and figurative breath of fresh air. The air conditioning was humming at a steady clip, and I had a glass of chilled wine in my hand in less than a minute. Even more refreshingly, the dozen or so women around the large table were chatting away wearing friendly expressions on their faces and consciously chosen yet unpretentious clothing on their bodies.
Only a few minutes into the conversation, I was struck by how such a diverse group of accomplished women could share so many of the same needs and wants when it came to clothing. Regardless of size, body type, profession, or personal sense of style, we were all still struggling with feelings of doubt or dissatisfaction with what we put on our bodies and present to the world. The ocean of fashion advice and “inspo” online had not yet solved our collective insecurities.
Our clothing choices are fraught because there are so many subtleties and unspoken rules for women’s dress, especially in the workplace. Sometimes I’m envious of the uniform my boyfriend puts on every morning: button down, dress pants, and tie, on repeat. Though I can’t say I’d want wear a tie in August, I feel like that’s a small price to pay compared to the heels that (incredulously) remain a standard of women’s professional wear. This is especially hazardous in Boston with our many brick and cobblestone streets.
Luckily for me, heels are not a standard part of my work attire. I’ve worked in the technology sector for 13 years, an industry that’s notorious for its very casual dress. But in many ways this lack of structure causes as many problems as it solves, especially for women. How do I pull off casual but not sloppy, creative but not overdone, smart but not stern? These challenges have only intensified as I’ve moved up the ranks professionally. While Mark Zuckerberg is famous for wearing a hoodie, could you imagine Sheryl Sandberg strolling into Facebook wearing a sweatshirt and jeans? There’s an ongoing joke in the technology industry that the worst-dressed man in the room is probably the most powerful. That’s because he has the authority and the luxury not to care, while women in similar positions of power would not be granted the same leniency.
At the Think Tank, there were several women in academic professions in attendance. One woman — who wore an elegant silk scarf and tailored skirt — noted how the more senior a woman in her department was, the more formal her dress. She described pantsuits and blazers as the rule, not the exception. However, the same was not true of the men, who typically dressed in business casual wear (khaki pants and sweaters) regardless of seniority.
Another woman in academia also remarked on clothing and the perception of competence, but in the opposite way. Her work entails being in the field, work that can be physically demanding and literally dirty. If a woman appears too dressed up — even while at the office — it can signal a kind of prissiness, that she wouldn’t be able to hack it in the field.
Many women expressed the difficulties with clothing just because women’s bodies so rarely conform to the measurements of a standard size. One woman, close to six feet tall, spoke about her difficulty with skirts and shorts. Clothes that might seem innocuous or professional on a woman of average height suddenly transforms into night club wear on her lanky body.
Another woman lamented that even the unsexiest of blouses can be rendered work inappropriate just by the dimensions of her bust line. For women, it’s a game of inches — an inch too short, a half inch too tight, and bam! You’re getting sideways glances or worse.
Women’s clothes are political because our bodies are political. Our bodies and our clothes are policed far more than men’s. Just Google “school dress code” if you don’t believe me. Everything in our culture compels us to be attractive, yet we have to find that narrow avenue between what’s pleasing to the eye and what’s considered too eye-catching. Given the wide range of shapes and sizes that women come in, this can be a Sisyphean task in a world where women have to fit themselves into the measurements of standard clothing sizes instead of the other way around.
Though the group of women at the Think Tank represented quite a diversity of shapes, sizes, and clothing needs, there were a lot of things we were in agreement on. We want to look great and feel great. We don’t want to have to choose between form and function; we want both. Ease of ownership is essential. We want pieces that are machine washable, pieces that go with everything — and keep on going. Fast fashion might have sufficed (either by choice or necessity) earlier in our lives, but now we place a premium on quality.
What was clear was that we think a lot about our clothes, but we don’t necessarily want to. We want to look great, we want to feel confident in how we look, but we are fatigued with the fussiness of much of what is marketed to women today. We just want our clothes to look as good and work as hard as we do.
