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Dress Makes the Man
Jan. 7th, 2005 10:21 amWhile modelling yesterday, I had a discussion with a couple of the artists on dress codes. My new job has numerous dress requirements which make much of my closet tabu. For example, sleeveless tops must have straps three knuckles in width. I wondered what makes the clavicle or shoulder an area which must be hidden. Why three knuckles and not two or four? Why are denim or cargo pockets disallowed, while Adidas-style athletic sandals are allowed? Apparently too-tight clothing is also not allowed, but I'm not sure what qualifies as too tight. Will I have to buy a new wardrobe of billowy clothing? I hope not. I must have a few outfits which are regulation-safe. I'll probably be wearing a lot of dresses.
Anyhow, one of the artists (herself wearing tight jeans and a sweater which shows off her lower back when she bends) believes that dress codes are good, and that you should always dress for work as you would dress for church. I looked down at my naked, working self and smirked. "Uh, that really depends on what religion you are, you know. Some people worship in the nude, and plenty of Christian churches have people attending services in jeans and t-shirts."
Apparently, what she means is that people should always dress like bankers when interacting with other people in the workplace. Frankly, I think she'd have had a difficult time drawing my nekkidness if I were wearing a blouse and dress pants. She then proferred up the example of her grandfather. He never went out without first donning a dress shirt, blazer, and tie, and he was a farmer.
"But he didn't dress like that in the barns, did he?" I asked.
"No," she said.
"I didn't think so. It wouldn't be appropriate. So dress should be appropriate to the work being done."
I've had to dress according to regulation before. When I worked at Sobeys, I was allowed to wear pants so long as they were black or navy. I was not allowed to keep my hair loose. My shoes had to be white running shoes with no other colours or markings (do you know how hard it is to find comfortable sneakers without brand names emblazoned on them?). I was not permitted to wear nail polish (not even clear). If I wore a dress or a skirt, nylons had to be white or beige. To top it off, I wore a long white smock which was always stained from handling messy groceries for hours at a time.
I sometimes broke regulations without even knowing it. I think regulations were made up based on my style of dress. The thick chain chokers I wore were eventually declared improper. The comfortable and warm black pants I wore were declared improper because they didn't have a front crease. My pen with its purple ink was disallowed because only black or blue ink is acceptable for putting my initials on customers' receipts. Even wearing my name badge over my right breast (done out of sheer lefthandedness) was naughty, and I had to stop. None of these things were ever marked as being wrong in my employee handbook. After being slapped down on a regular basis for the silliest of reasons, I decided to rebel in ways which were acceptable.
Since I couldn't wear nail polish, I began using henna on my nails. I wore the beige nylons, but under my smock I wore PVC miniskirts and t-shirts with rude sayings. Sometimes I wore trashy underwear. No one knew what I was wearing but me, and I was a-ok according to regulations. Other cashiers rebel by wearing ridiculous amounts of makeup. You've probably encountered them. And now you know that some cashiers are dressed like harlots beneath their smocks.
The silliest dress code I ever laboured against was put in place when I worked with Youth Service Canada. The organization itself was fine. It was our supervisor who wasn't. She was a nasty, trollish woman who believed that every job should be Mon.-Fri., 9-5, and all employees should dress like they worked in a bank. She wanted me to wear a business skirt, blouse, blazer, pumps, slicked-back hair, and neutral makeup. And I was only to work from 9-5 on weekdays.
My peers had their own reasons for disagreeing with the restrictions. One group was putting together a community garden, and high-heeled shoes are not appropriate footwear for tilling soil. Another group was organizing an adventure camp for teens. Rapelling and kayaking are not best done in a modest skirt and blazer.
As for me, I was a host and interviewer for a series of radio documentaries on street kids. I explained to her that dressing like a banker would only turn the interviewees off of me, and that if I kept 9-5 hours, I'd have a hell of a time finding street kids. I told her that wearing band t-shirts and faded jeans out on the streets at three in the morning on a school night is a better way of finding and speaking with street-involved youth than hanging out at a mall at noon wearing dress clothes, but she just couldn't understand how this could be the case. "No kids will be up that late. They'd be home and in bed."
She was a rather stupid woman.
Anyhow, one of the artists (herself wearing tight jeans and a sweater which shows off her lower back when she bends) believes that dress codes are good, and that you should always dress for work as you would dress for church. I looked down at my naked, working self and smirked. "Uh, that really depends on what religion you are, you know. Some people worship in the nude, and plenty of Christian churches have people attending services in jeans and t-shirts."
Apparently, what she means is that people should always dress like bankers when interacting with other people in the workplace. Frankly, I think she'd have had a difficult time drawing my nekkidness if I were wearing a blouse and dress pants. She then proferred up the example of her grandfather. He never went out without first donning a dress shirt, blazer, and tie, and he was a farmer.
"But he didn't dress like that in the barns, did he?" I asked.
"No," she said.
"I didn't think so. It wouldn't be appropriate. So dress should be appropriate to the work being done."
I've had to dress according to regulation before. When I worked at Sobeys, I was allowed to wear pants so long as they were black or navy. I was not allowed to keep my hair loose. My shoes had to be white running shoes with no other colours or markings (do you know how hard it is to find comfortable sneakers without brand names emblazoned on them?). I was not permitted to wear nail polish (not even clear). If I wore a dress or a skirt, nylons had to be white or beige. To top it off, I wore a long white smock which was always stained from handling messy groceries for hours at a time.
I sometimes broke regulations without even knowing it. I think regulations were made up based on my style of dress. The thick chain chokers I wore were eventually declared improper. The comfortable and warm black pants I wore were declared improper because they didn't have a front crease. My pen with its purple ink was disallowed because only black or blue ink is acceptable for putting my initials on customers' receipts. Even wearing my name badge over my right breast (done out of sheer lefthandedness) was naughty, and I had to stop. None of these things were ever marked as being wrong in my employee handbook. After being slapped down on a regular basis for the silliest of reasons, I decided to rebel in ways which were acceptable.
Since I couldn't wear nail polish, I began using henna on my nails. I wore the beige nylons, but under my smock I wore PVC miniskirts and t-shirts with rude sayings. Sometimes I wore trashy underwear. No one knew what I was wearing but me, and I was a-ok according to regulations. Other cashiers rebel by wearing ridiculous amounts of makeup. You've probably encountered them. And now you know that some cashiers are dressed like harlots beneath their smocks.
The silliest dress code I ever laboured against was put in place when I worked with Youth Service Canada. The organization itself was fine. It was our supervisor who wasn't. She was a nasty, trollish woman who believed that every job should be Mon.-Fri., 9-5, and all employees should dress like they worked in a bank. She wanted me to wear a business skirt, blouse, blazer, pumps, slicked-back hair, and neutral makeup. And I was only to work from 9-5 on weekdays.
My peers had their own reasons for disagreeing with the restrictions. One group was putting together a community garden, and high-heeled shoes are not appropriate footwear for tilling soil. Another group was organizing an adventure camp for teens. Rapelling and kayaking are not best done in a modest skirt and blazer.
As for me, I was a host and interviewer for a series of radio documentaries on street kids. I explained to her that dressing like a banker would only turn the interviewees off of me, and that if I kept 9-5 hours, I'd have a hell of a time finding street kids. I told her that wearing band t-shirts and faded jeans out on the streets at three in the morning on a school night is a better way of finding and speaking with street-involved youth than hanging out at a mall at noon wearing dress clothes, but she just couldn't understand how this could be the case. "No kids will be up that late. They'd be home and in bed."
She was a rather stupid woman.
