The Clothes Make The...Woman?

I want to start this post with a proposition: Throughout recorded history clothing has been used as a tool of oppression with respect to people in general and women particularly.

I want to talk about expectations of dress, why those expectations exist and what they mean. But why this topic? Each of us have hot-button issues. Things that really piss us off in a disproportionate way. I hate it when someone makes assumptions about me based on how I look. This manifests in two ways: I hate it when someone looks at me and makes an assumption about me based on their assumption of how old I am (or how young I am, to be more precise) and two, I hate to be judged based on how I am dressed. More particularly, I become livid when someone tells me how to dress. Recently, I came across a post on another knitting blog (which I’m not going to link to) that really pissed me off. Basically the post addressed what that particular blogger (a man) thought his female co-workers should be wearing. Both the topic of the post and its tone, which was incredibly condescending, made my blood boil. Although I did not comment, the post has stayed with me. Then yesterday Eunny wrote a post addressing the same topic, in a different context. This kept me thinking about the issue. Why does it make me so angry when someone tells me how to dress?

I’ve decided that it basically boils down to one thing: telling a person how to dress is tanatamount to judging them based on the garments that they choose to cover their nakedness. To my mind, how a person dresses should not matter. Dressing in low rise jeans with the top of your thong showing does not mean that you are sexually promiscuous. Wearing an akle length skirt and a shirt that’s buttoned up to your neck does not mean that you are a prude. So, all other things being equal, I think that we should all be able to dress in the manner that we find to be most comfortable without judgment.

I know that this is not realistic. I work in a profession where I am required to dress in the most uncomfortable manner every day. I have to dress "professionally." I put "professionally" in quotes for a reason. What does that mean anyway? For men, it’s easy. Dress shirt, tie, slacks, sport coat. Extra points if it all matches. For women, it’s not so easy. I wish that I could come to work in the aforementioned dress shirt, tie, slacks, sport coat every day. I can’t do that for a variety of reasons. One, I would look like ass in that outfit. Two, I could not wear a variation of the same outfit every day because people would start to wonder if I was just wearing the same outfit every day and if so, did I wash it in between? Three, people expect something different of women. And there’s the rub.

Women are not men. Women are not expected to look like men, even in a business or corporate environment. Women are supposed to still look like women and dress accordingly. That means: fitted shirts. Fitted slacks or skirts. Nylons. No bare legs. Fitted sport coats. Fitted suits, of course, are acceptable. Nice shoes. Lots of shoes with heels. Lastly, we are supposed to accessorize tastefully, put on makeup, and fix our hair.

I hate every single minute of it. EVERY MOTHERFUCKING MINUTE. And remember, I do it five days a week, 51 weeks a year.

Don’t get me wrong. I like looking nice. I like dressing up for special occasions. What I really hate is the fact that I am constantly being judged according to how I look I am not the person that I really am on the inside. I am, literally, the clothes. My clients never see past the clothes. The Judge never sees past the clothes. So, depending on how I am dressed, I might be JenniferLawyer or, on some days, JenniferNotQuiteDressedWellEnoughToBeALawyer or JenniferClothesLookGoodButHairIsNotDoneInClassyEnoughStyleToGetRespect. On most days I am JenniferLawyerButStillLooksTooYoungToBeMuchMoreThanAGlorifiedSecretaryBecause
SeriouslyHowCanSomeoneSoYoungReallyKnowAnythingIShouldReallyImpartSomeOfMyHard
WonWisdomToHer.CauseI’veLivedLongEnoughThatIKnowEVERYTHING.

Consequently, it really makes me angry when someone bitches about the fact that some girl’s bra straps are showing. What’s the big fucking deal? And the thing that really gets me is this: I know what the big deal is. The person who thinks it’s a big fucking deal is judging that girl or woman. She’s thinking (and usually these judgers are women rather than men) that the fact that her bra straps are showing is a reflection of her character. That she is trashy or cheap or to put it bluntly: not good enough in some fundamental way. Personally, I can’t imagine anything more unfair or more likely to be untrue.