On the work-from-home attire debate
I can't pinpoint when dressing up became a problem for me, but my fuzzy memory estimates it started in high school, as so much trauma does. After all, school is often where one's class consciousness begins. It was high school that taught me the importance of having the latest designer clothes, the desire for clothes that fit your body type and the need for durable clothing that'll last beyond one school year, the latter of which is where Forever 21 fell short.
It was in high school that I learned how much having both parents at home would have made a difference in my life financially. My mom, who would give an arm to make me happy, would give whatever money she could give me in order to get new clothes, and I would stretch it as far as I could add discount retailers like Marshalls and then now-defunct A.J. Wright. I know I'm further dating myself when I acknowledge that $100 or so could buy several graphic tees and a few jeans that would fit my thinner teenage self. My peers with both their parents at home working full-time, however, had more and better. More money to spend. More frequent trips to the mall, the movies, the bookstore or wherever they wanted to go. Better quality clothing.
Back then, your clothes, your accessories, your hairstyle, everything about your appearance mattered so much. And the slightest faux pas, such as jeans that don't quite fit your evolving physique or a threadbare shirt, could lead to temporary public embarrassment and lasting underlying social anxiety. I was aware that I was somewhere towards the lower middle rank. I knew kids who had much more than me, and I knew kids who had less. Despite spending hours scouring job sites like SnagAJob.com, I, a teenager during the Great Recession, couldn't find my first gig until I was 18 years old, which meant that I had to find my style within the confines of our modest budget. I made it work in hopes that I would one day be able to spend more on myself.
And then came college, where class divides were even more observable. At my art school, it was clear not only who had funds to support their shopping habits but also who had a college fund. I did not, and am still soldiering on with student loan debt. In college, I remember taking a shopping trip with my grandma, who also would move heaven and earth to make me happy, to go find professional clothes for my upcoming summer internship. How stressful that time in my life was! I didn't yet have an extensive wardrobe that could carry me through any meeting or source interview. I remember feeling so out of place amongst the beautiful broadcast journalists who somehow had to wherewithal to wake up early, wear carefully coated TV makeup and cheerful, solid-colored dresses and deliver accurate, concise news. I'm afraid I can only do two out of three.
And then came my earliest jobs. I had one boss who schooled unpaid interns on the proper work attire. Nevermind the fact that, as free labor, they may not have had the money to invest in pencil skirts and button-up shirts. That same boss repeatedly scolded me for my wardrobe choices, commenting that one of my outfits was too form-fitting given my figure and would attract the wrong attention from men. On another occasion, she remarked that my dress was too short. I scoffed at the first comment, remembering that all the men in my office were old enough to be either my father or my grandfather. The second time, I reminded her that I had yet to be paid for my freelance work before coming on staff, nor had I received my check as a staffer, and as such couldn't afford to go and get new clothing.
It was then that I learned that men had the luxury of waking up in the morning and not being concerned about how masculine they looked, but women will always have the burden of worrying about how feminine they look under the harsh gaze of their colleagues.
I later had another boss who, after firing an employee who she had also made cry in the office, remarked that she would be happy to hire someone who dressed better. Nevermind the fact that she had a problem with paying employees on time.
The COVID-19 outbreak, along with the need for staffers to performatively dress up and show off their outfits online, is dredging up all of these memories I thought I put to bed. I find no fault in the desire to dress up as a means of coping with these uncertain times. I understand the impulse to put on clothes to grasp at a sense of normalcy, to vibe with fellow fashionistas, to connect without congregating... However, one of the greatest things about freelancing is freedom from the racism, the sexism, the classism and the tyranny of a dress code. Every morning, I take a shower, brush my teeth, eat breakfast, and put on pajamas, unless of course, I know I need to run errands or meet a source in person. Picking up lunch or groceries requires a minimum of t-shirt and jeans, but a meeting with a source will means ironed slacks, a sweater or blouse and modest jewelry. If it's too hot, I'll find a comfortable, but professional dress. The notion that one has to dress up every day in order to be productive is one that I've challenged for most of my freelance writing career. I seem to get my work done whether I'm wearing pajamas, a t-shirt or next to nothing.
How funny it is to see all of these adults worrying about whether or not to dress up for work, when some parents used to scold their children by reminding them that school "wasn't a fashion show." As the pandemic continues and the death toll rises and patients fight for their lives in hospitals and postal workers continue to deliver the mail and grocery staffers stock the groceries and journalists write the news stories and essentially workers perform all the other important but overlooked tasks that make our society go round, the last thing I'm worried about is what I'm wearing.
Living alone and working for myself gives me the luxury of dressing how I see fit, free from the male gaze and harsh criticism from colleagues and superiors. The beauty of working from home is that none of that matters. All that matters is whether you can do the work well and turn it in on deadline. Your quality of work, your pleasantness via email or phone calls and your ability to deliver work in the time frame allowed is what will keep clients coming back, not the hues of your clothing, the tastefulness of your jewelry and accessories or whether or not your clothing hugs your hips.
I welcome all of those new to working from home to let go and let God, within reason. No, you don't need to expose yourself to your coworkers or your kids. But you'll be surprised how much you can accomplish in a nice set of sweatpants, or even just clean underwear… if you dare.
What’s your work-from-home attire? Tell me in the comments or email me at contact@thefreelancebeat.com. Also, if you haven’t already, sign up for The Freelance Beat newsletter at Patreon and check out the unpaywalled list of resources.
