Risqué office attire reveals ... poor judgment
| Attire speaks volumes about your ambitions |
By Barbara Yost
Arizona Republic
This spring, designers are putting miniskirts, belly T's and lingerie-inspired tiny tanks all over the runway. But trendy fashions don't always work in the workplace.
Even the ambitious women of the NBC reality show "The Apprentice" received a tongue-lashing for their inappropriate attire.
Carolyn Kepcher, an adviser on the show and chief operating officer for Trump Industries, took the women to task for using risqué clothing to try to get the edge on their male opponents in the race to win a job working for Donald Trump.
"It's something I felt needed to be said," Kepcher says from her office in New York City. "They were trying to use their sexuality to win the game."
Kepcher told the women she wanted to see less sexuality and more "smarts."
In real life, Kepcher says, "the brain always wins." She believes most offices have gone too casual, too unprofessional.
Look around your own office. Mary's skirt is slit up to here and her low-cut blouse is at serious risk of a wardrobe malfunction. The waistband of Jim's jeans is clinging to his hips for dear life, and "boxers or briefs?" is no mystery.
Have we hit bottom? Some companies think so and have ended casual Fridays or instituted dress codes.
Workplace attire has undergone rapid change. Clothing researcher John T. Molloy set the standard with his seminal 1975 work, "Dress for Success" (Warner, $13.99), in which he advocated that women emulate men by wearing dark, tailored suits. His studies found that suits on either gender connote authority and confidence.
Now in the midst of research for a new version of the book, Molloy says the suit is still the attire of choice for powerful men and women. His studies show that among people earning more than $250,000 a year, most come to work in suits.
For the rest, there is one word for much of today's business attire: sloppy. Molloy blames casual days, which gave license to abandon any semblance of professionalism.
"It got so bad," Molloy says, "that companies wanted to change."
Molloy dates casual Fridays to Hawai'i after World War II, when people in the Islands began sporting aloha shirts at the office. Thirty years later, computer nerds in California's Silicon Valley felt so cocky about their skills that they shed their suits: If IBM didn't like it, it could put its voguish executives at the keyboard.
Ten years ago, many other industries embraced the dress-down trend. All well and good, says New Jersey business-etiquette expert Barbara Pachter, but "they didn't really define it."
The result? Sloppiness as well as an excuse to flirt and flaunt.
"It's easier to be seductive in casual dress," Pachter says. "What do you want to be remembered for, your great legs or what comes out of your mouth?"
Women, who have more choices in clothing than men, also have more opportunities to fail, she says.
Pat Newquist, an image coach in Tempe, Ariz., says a backlash against withering standards of dress has caused a boom in the image-consultant business. Employers are calling her with reports of ubiquitous tank tops, cleavage, poor hygiene, scruffy clothes and what she calls "incorrect sizing": clothing that is too big or too small.
"I have (size) 12s who think they are 8s," she says of her clients. "They're stuffing it in."
Newquist hosts presentations for businesses and coaches individual clients, some of whom are sent by their employers. She believes every company should have a dress code.
"It sets a standard. You have something to fall back on," she says.
What's all the fuss anyway? Why is there a tug of war between our brains and our bras?
Newquist makes it clear. "I may never get to your brain if your appearance is bothersome," she says. "You are what you wear."