#DressLikeAWoman
In light of the recent hashtag discussion prompted by reports of the new POTUS’s office dress code expectations, I thought it appropriate to talk a bit about what it means to #DressLikeAWoman, and what factors determine how we think about the issue. This is not about partisan politics, but about a deeper-rooted question of identity.
When I was a little girl, I had a very special dress I would wear whenever my parents had guests over at our house in Greece. I still remember its pink tulle and white lace, and how pretty I felt when I put it on. The entertainer in me would burst out as soon as the door would open, and I’d begin my twirls, curtseys, and coquettish shoulder shrugs. The visitors would be putty in my 4-year-old hands, bestowing hugs, kisses, and candy as reward for my cuteness. But the attention that this behavior, coupled with my killer pink dress, got me was the ultimate reward. It was the reason I, in an almost Pavlovian response, ran towards my dress every time my parents said the word, “visitor”. When they were gone, I would change back into my pants, retrieve my lightsaber (a.k.a. plastic spoon), and proceed with my Jedi responsibilities of ridding the world of evil. Why didn’t I let my Star Wars freak flag fly when we had visitors? Because I was rewarded more for my lace than my lightsaber.
From an early age, we are given praise for dressing, acting, and speaking a certain way. We learn from this praise, and often adapt ourselves to fit the expectations of others in such a way that we believe we will be rewarded through compliments, gifts, or a title in a beauty pageant. Although I feel that we, as a society, are making a shift towards redefining gender roles and expectations over time, there are still social and professional spaces where the differences between man and woman are expected to be demonstrated through a certain appearance, manners, or even tone of voice. But why do we feel the need to create these boxes to put people in? Does it make it easier to make sense of our world? Does it make us feel more secure in who we are?
When we have been told that a woman has long hair, wears a dress, and speaks softly, and then meet a short-haired fireball in a pantsuit, do we judge her as being somehow less feminine? Looking from the opposite perspective, if we see a soft-spoken, long-haired man, would we judge him as failing to uphold the masculine ideal as well? Diversity is expressed not only in who we are genetically as individuals, but also in the choices that we each make during the course of our lives. Since the spectrum of human diversity is what leads to scientific, artistic, and humanitarian breakthroughs, to stifle it would be to stifle human potential. If we feel the need to impose aesthetic expectations of people based on their sex (much less their gender), perhaps that is a reflection of our own insecurities.
I’m not suggesting we all stop bathing and go to work in sweat suits. I understand that each job requires employees to exhibit a level of professionalism that matches the company culture, whether that is a uniform for a police officer, a suit for a lawyer, or a company tee shirt for a summer camp counselor. I also recognize that different clothes and behaviors make people feel confident. But to expect men and women to fit into neat boxes based solely on their biology seems to express a limited understanding and valuing of humanity, its rich layers of beauty, and of its potential.
