I have always been a creative person, and ever since I was a child, one of the ways I showcased that creativity was through the way I dressed.
And as anyone knows, when you don't dress like other people, you get made fun of. Especially as a kid. I remember being teased about my clothes very early on - of course, I was teased about a lot of things, from my body and my hair to the things I liked. I've always been a super nerd too, and my friends and I never hid the fact that we liked Harry Potter and Star Wars. And I always had my own sense of style, too. I remember as early as third grade being asked why my pants didn't cover my shoes - at that time, it was popular to wear baggy/bell-bottom jeans, and I wasn't on the third grade trend. And as a wannabe-popular third grader, I immediately had my mom take me to the mall to buy baggier jeans. That started a phase of my wearing boy's jeans, which wasn't really in style either.
When I was older, in middle school, I started dressing more, well, gothy. As middle schoolers do, I was going through my angsty period and I'd discovered a few books about girls my age who felt the way I did, and they all dressed in black. So I dressed in black. I discovered Hot Topic and wore bondage pants and band tshirts. I wore pajama bottoms to school and got in trouble for it, and the style was soon banned at the school I went to. I wore my Slytherin crest tshirt. I wore heavy black eyeliner and studded cuffs. I was always considered a weirdo. But middle school is also the height of needing to be accepted. I was flat chested at the time (and teased for that) but I wanted to wear low cut tops like the other girls. I had my mother secretly buy me padded bras so that I could get a boyfriend (then, a status symbol) and be friends with the more popular girls. But I still didn't dress right, my jeans were wrong, my makeup was wrong, my big poofy hair was wrong.
The problem was exacerbated when I transffered out of my public middle school to a private high school in eighth grade. I was the only goth kid amongst a sea of prepsters - the one who stood out in black bondage pants and studded bracelets while the others popped the collar of their polo shirts and wore birkenstocks. It was hard for me. It wasn't just teasing then; girls had learned how to be mean to each other and were out in full force. I remember being asked by an upperclassmen, "What are you like, punk or something? Like Avril Lavigne?" and being so offended - not because he was wrong, because I was wearing Lavigne-esque ties and black eyeliner, but by his tone. It was as if he'd asked, "why do you dress so wrong?", or "why are you so much different than the rest of us?". So, I hid. I stopped wearing the things I liked and again, bought in-style items: polo shirts and birkenstocks and khakis. It didn't work. The moment the other girls made me angry, I pulled out my studs and went right back to what made me happy. Eventually I found a group of friends that were happy with me the way I was, too. And I found ways to skirt around the dress code and still be me.
When I was in college, I started blogging and developing my personal style. I wanted to be a fashion person, and I liked using the way I dressed to make a statement about myself. I liked being asked why I looked different, because I was proud of the way I looked. I wore heels to class and liked looking more dressed up than the other students in their Juicy sweatpants and Ugg boots. I'm sure many other fashionistas have experienced this too - the feeling of constantly being overdressed, or at least, more so than those around you. The way I looked became a construction of who I was. I crafted this look completely on purpose. I was more decisive about what I bought, the way I did my makeup (my winged eyeliner developed at this time, heavily influenced by Miss Dita Von Teese), and the way I presented myself.
But eventually I needed a job, and I was hired at Loft - which I had never shopped at before. I started working at Loft because my mother and my sister wanted the discount, and I didn't particularly want to work so I didn't care about where it was. I was told that I was hired because I was "edgy" - this would be the first time I'd hear that term in reference to how I dressed, but it wouldn't be the last. Of course, I took this to mean that they liked me. But almost immediately, I was told to dress differently - to cover up with cardigans, to wear less jewelry, to wear different shoes, to wear more color.
Now, okay. I get this. From a business perspective, I get this. I understand presenting the brand through your employees, and stores like Loft have a very distinctive look. Now that I'm not with them, I can speak more candidly about the brand. We parted on bad terms. I was fired for another employee's mistake a day before I was set to leave, and I'd given my noticed because I simply couldn't stand my co-manager, who was selfish and homophobic (literally said "ew that's disgusting" when I mentioned kissing other girls and the store manager made no effort to stop her - and as a queer girl, I couldn't stand that kind of atmosphere). But Loft has always had that kind of bored housewife look. It's not really "trendy", it's suburban, accessible, and bland. In my opinion, Loft isn't "fashion", not really. It's great for some people, and sometimes they have some stand out pieces, but mostly I thought the clothes were ugly. But because I worked there, I made it work. I learned to dress in a way that was comfortable for me and acceptable for work.
At one point, I was working for Ann Taylor in New York City - another toxic atmosphere, filled with a management team that thought they were better than everyone else (and please, it's Ann Taylor, not Chanel, calm down). I was told I dress "lazy", that my velvet pants counted as jeans, that I needed to dress more On Brand. Again, I get it, it's business. But at this point, I'm out of college, and I still need to be me. Ann Taylor/Loft was never my personal style, and I found it increasingly more difficult to compromise. I mentioned casually to one of the other managers about how I don't wear blue, only black, due to my "secret goth" status - she told me, "It's not a secret". Of course, they knew I was different. And the combined circumstances (travel time, and a bad atmosphere), lead me back to Loft, and eventually I left the company. Or rather, they cut ties that I thought were good. Apparently my 3 year loyalty was unappreciated.
But the truth was, it was fine. I wanted something new anyway. I wanted a career, a "big girl" job, and retail had taken it's toll on me physically. But I was really excited about getting to dress the way I want. I remember talking several times to my mother about how stoked I was to really get to express myself because I wanted to find a job in the corporate offices of a fashion company. I knew that people in the fashion industry would accept me for who I was. I could make my more "edgy" style work for corporate offices now that I was older - I mean, it's not like I was showing lots of skin or doing anything offensive. Lots of fashion people have tattoos and wear black, especially in New York. And eventually I got a job, and proceeded to wear whatever I wanted. I mean, I really took the opportunity to experiment with how I dressed. I bought new and interesting pieces. It's a business casual atmosphere, so I can wear tshirts and skirts, I can wear my combat boots and my converse. I really really thought I'd be able to stretch my creativity here, and it was so exciting for me not to feel like I was being boxed in anymore. I got a lot of compliments on how I looked, and I felt really good.
The way I dress is an extension of my personality. I created the person I am, I have crafted and built my wardrobe specifically to say something about the person that I am, down to the colour of my nail polish. I have spent a lot of money to become the woman that I want to be, and I am finally in a place in my life where I am happy and accepting of myself.
So I pose this question to you, dear readers. Where is the line drawn when it comes to compromising personal style for work? Do you feel it is necessary to have to separate wardrobes, one for work and one for play? Are you willing to sacrifice your personal style for your career?
Let's talk about it.
