Watch What You Wear

Shakespeare said it first and best: “Clothes make the man.”

Fine, the character he chose to iterate those words was a pompous ass, featured in a play dedicated to the skewering of all things pretentious and trivial, but the words have become entrenched within our societal lexicon.

Because they’re true, bitches.

I’ve said it many times and in many ways, but it bears repeating if only because for some, it seems the message has not sunk in: people can see what you’re wearing. And they’re noticing it.

I’m going to take a break from my normal self-aggrandizement to highlight two examples recently brought to my attention in which not only did clothes not make the (wo)man, they actively harmed her.

Case 1: A young-ish woman is appointed to a job at an organization made up of a city’s most powerful and influential people. It is rumored that she received the job as some sort of political favor/ exchange. She attends the first board meeting in a halter-top and flip- flops. Guess whose professional credibility is receiving further speculation.

Case 2: Another young woman’s company is called on to consult on an instillation project funded by a board consisting of older, conservative individuals. She is a tall girl and arrives wearing 6 inch, thigh high boots over tight jeans and a beret. I do not care how artistic you are. That is inappropriate. Also, the board chair said she looked like a Parisian hooker.

Ladies, you have got to get it together with the propriety. I mean, just because Lindsay Lohan insists on strutting into the courtroom like it’s a catwalk doesn’t mean the rest of us can forsake all semblance of societal awareness.

This is not a call to wear pantyhose, but it is a reminder that some people still do. And chances are that if you’re anywhere below 35, hose-wearers are the ones signing your checks.

As quoted above, Shakespeare’s Polonius reminds us that the correct outfit projects an image of control. By acknowledging that, you get to control what that image says. You can be aggressively arty at the art party, but maybe scale down the stilettos the next time the board convenes. You can also be aggressively assertive, demure, corporate, edgy, whatever. But know what you’re doing, especially when you’re in a setting (professional or otherwise) where the opinions of those around you matter.

Sometimes fashion isn’t about self-congratulation but simple strategy. Be yourself, but do so in a way that those you’re addressing will understand your message, rather than trying to force your self-image on an uncomprehending audience. They’ll only write you off or tune you out, which is no way to get what you want.

Case in point: all the words of Shakespeare don’t mean a damn thing if you don’t speak English.