What is appropriate to wear and where? When can we break against the dress code, or can we ever, if we're to be accepted and respected within both our organizational cultures, our subcultures, and our national cultures?
My fashion journey, started already in day care, when my Dad let me dress however I wanted on a day, when my Mum couldn't get me ready and drop me off. I chose the most hideous combination of patterns, colors and styles, but liked it and enjoyed my day, my Mum becoming furious at my Dad, when she came to pick me up in the afternoon. Since then, I've both felt free to wear whatever I feel like, and felt eager to match my outfits so that I look put together. My mother has always been keen on letting me dress nice as a teenager too, probably because she was raised in a fairly poor family, where she had to wear second hand clothes to school for the most part. My father on the other hand, likes to rebel against his noble upbringing, where my grandfather wore a uniform most days, and my grandmother nice ensembles and fur coats, while he prefers jeans and later black leather pants.
During my 20's, after wearing a uniform on the job at TetraPak, I worked in a clothing store, and devoured everything fashion and trends, including rushing to get the latest Vogue UK edition and grateful to be allowed to accompany all store managers to the great fashion fair in Copenhagen. This interest, continued as a creative pursuit in my 30's, now with more vintage finds to pair it with, as well as some of the latest (but not too expensive) designs. When I visited New York City in 2003, to do research interviews for my last exam paper on Coaching with the Dialogue to Malmö University, I relished walking up 5th avenue and into all the departments stores, taking it all in. And meeting Marc Jacobs while he was doing a fitting with models! And of course I was inspired too, by the TV-show Sex and the City.
When I turned 40, I lived in Honolulu, HI, so naturally my style became geared towards a combination of cute skirts and tops, and beachwear, until I had to return to Sweden again. When I turned 50, I lived in the Cascais area of Portugal, and here I felt I could wear what I decided to myself, regardless of any fashion trends, finally choosing the items and colors I preferred, without looking in any magazines first. Then of course, it has been hard to update my wardrobe, given not having a steady income and mostly only been able to summertime, I recently decided to buy black again, after receiving some monetary damages.
When I worked in advertising in the 90's, everyone wore black all the time. Black, big rimmed glasses, black pullovers, jeans, slacks, blazers, tops, shoes... It was like entering a funeral every time. And so not me. I wore black too on occasion, but not always. But, whenever I wore a colorful skirt or even just whites, I was always commented on. While receiving compliments is nice, I don't need to hear how I look every day, when I'm sitting writing or meeting with co-workers and clients, as if what I was saying, or the ideas and statements I made, wasn't really listened to. I quit, but still miss my job in the sense of the creative and producing aspect. It's a fine line to walk. We want to be accepted and respected, yet keep our own sense of self. We want it to be practical (not freezing to death or stumble on high heels), yet nice enough to let it express our own real identity and status, with a style that fits us, as well as fitting in. So, the last couple of weeks, I've been concentrating on getting ready for work (and for dating), whether in Sweden or in the United States, including getting a black blazer too, of course.
We wear the same, to be treated the same.
Comments