025: Sooo, About That WFH Uniform
Hi friends,
Well, for most of us we’ve passed the one-year mark of quarantine, of living with the anxiety that surrounds covid-19. Some of us have had it, some of us have lost people to it, some of us have been lucky and avoided it. If you’re able to get vaccinated, I hope you choose to do so. Until we reach herd immunity, this virus continues to control our lives; until enough people get vaccinated, we can’t reach herd immunity. I got vaccinated last week. It left me a little sore, and with a strange new love for Microsoft products. (kidding!)
You might have noticed that I decided to take a break from these and skipped the essay that should have come out two weeks ago. It was a last-minute idea but ended up being an incredibly refreshing break for me. I had been feeling so burned out at my job, so burned out in my life, that the idea of sitting down and writing gave me unbearable anxiety. I took a break. I came back this week ready to write and full of ideas.
My only other intro note is that Substack seems to be experiencing some issues today, so if this email looks really basic in your inboxes, my apologies. This is the risk I take by trying to send an authentic, I-wrote-this-just-for-you-today! publication. Ah, well. Hopefully whatever issue they have gets sorted out before our next issue!
Okay, let’s hop into it!
Image cred: The White House | Pete Souza
As of this past week, I work full-time-ish in marketing for Go Fund Bean.
To be honest, I have been trying to find a way to stay in coffee without working behind bar for years. I love the coffee industry, but can’t take the physically demanding requirements of standing behind a bar for eight hours a day.
Additionally, some coffee bars require really strict uniforms, including polos or hats provided by the company. This was always really hard on my self-esteem, and it isn’t until recently that I discovered that that’s actually a known issue in psychology, not just me being a brat. Most of the research about the effect of uniforms on self-esteem centers around school uniforms, but there is some research indicating that how employees feel about their uniforms is related to 1) how they feel in it and 2) how much they respect they receive in it. Basically, does it fit them well, is it comfortable, and does it make them stand out in a way that invites negative perceptions of them? Really, it’s kind of just: Is the uniform cool?
For instance, the McDonald’s uniform is often used as a synonym for unflattering and a contextual signal for ‘poor.’ On the other end of the spectrum, the Emirates Airline uniform is famously cool and sexy. Uniforms are so key in the air travel industry that Virgin Airlines hired Vivienne Fucking Westwood to design their uniforms.
The worst experience I’ve ever had with a work uniform was the job I just left. We were given firetruck red polos with a yellow logo (I didn’t work at McDonald’s, but it was clearly modeled on the old McDonald’s uniform). When I started, I was given a choice between men’s large and women’s small for size, neither of which fit me, and I was only given three shirts, despite working 5 days a week. I discovered pretty quickly that I was VERY allergic to the material, so I had to wear a long-sleeve turtleneck underneath it every day to prevent the rashes. That shade of red is a terrible color on me, so in addition to being physically in pain, I was also very aware that I looked sickly every single day that I worked there.
(I’ve been aware that I look ill while wearing red so long that it’s actually 50% of the reason I didn’t attend Southern Methodist University, despite being offered a scholarship—their colors are firetruck red and royal blue, which are tones that don’t work for my skin. I was not going to wear those colors for the rest of my life. So I went to Texas A&M, who also offered me a scholarship and whose color is maroon, which looks amazing on me.)
The best experience I had of work dress codes was at Blue Bottle, where we were given an array of colors we were allowed to wear. Shirts had to have sleeves, pants and skirts had to be long enough to protect us from any hot water spills, shoes had to be non-slip. We were given an apron to wear on top of it to protect our clothes. That was it. It was amazing because it let us be somewhat individualistic while also still clearly being Blue Bottle employees. For me, it was helpful that the colors they chose—black, grey, blue, denim—were colors I would have been wearing anyway.
Proponents of uniforms in schools say that making everyone wear the same clothing reduces bullying because everyone looks the same—students get to stand out amongst their peers on merit, rather than fashion. But the research is split—while, yes, kids don’t get made fun of for their clothing anymore, kids do get bullied for not fitting into the uniforms well. Uniforms tend to be tailored to what’s “normal,” which we all know is just the early 20th-century medical-industrial complex’s bullshit racist opinions about fat and BMIs that we’ve disproven. So students whose bodies don’t fit the standard of “normal” get made of fun for the way their uniforms fit. This isn’t just kids who are fat by the way—kids who are too tall or too short suffer, kids who develop breasts and hips earlier or later suffer under strict uniform rules.
The problems that uniforms were supposed to prevent—bullying, popularity based on income, etc—still make their way into schools. Maybe instead of the latest fashion, they’re made manifest in other markers of wealth (phones, shoes, cars), or in the way the uniform fits. If a family can’t afford to tailor the uniform and no one in the house knows how to, then the student has to wear one that’s too big or too small. That’s still a marker of wealth, and it still makes them targets for bullying.
Uniforms don’t actually protect students from bullying at all.
And, worse to me, uniforms deny people self-expression for years on end during a time that’s so formative for their self-esteem, their relationship to “the group,” their opinions of authority, and their sense of identity. Over a thousand published studies agree: You are what you wear.
I think the context of uniforms is so important. Take athletic team uniforms—millions of people voluntarily buy jerseys every year to rep their team. It creates solidarity. It makes you part of a group, which is really all anyone ever wants.
But I suspect that there are several important caveats to the practice of voluntarily donning a uniform as a fan.
They can take it off whenever they want.
They are able to choose colors and fits that work for them personally.
They chose to do it.
Those are all variations on choice, right? The ability to make good choices is often linked to self-esteem. We are able to make better choices when we’re already feeling confident, and having our choices “proven right” makes us feel more confident. It’s a classic positive feedback loop.
Even when you’re a member of the sports team and the uniform is less of an option, there’s still an element of escape—athletes don’t wear their uniform every day, all day long. When I was a cheerleader, we were allowed to wear whatever athletic wear we wanted to practice. The only times our outfits were dictated were during competitions, and when we were on our annual training retreat. They provided us with a training outfit every day, which was different for every squad. It created unity during training, which, you know, when you’re talking about throwing people in the air, you really want everyone to get along and be on the same page. It helped us bond without compromising our individuality in the long-term.
On the other hand, there’s evidence that having a uniform helps you be more productive throughout the day. President Obama famously wore only gray or blue suits in order to fight decision fatigue. As president, he had too many other important decisions to make daily to waste one on what to wear. Have a “uniform” saves time and energy in the morning, two things that we’re all looking to conserve as best we can.
But the caveats I was talking about still apply! President Obama assigned himself this uniform. The White House didn’t, the Constitution didn’t, he chose it. And he chose colors that he looks damn good in. He chose fabrics he likes (probably, idk). Each one was probably tailored to fit him perfectly. That’s such a different experience from having an itchy ugly polo assigned to you!
(Okay, I didn’t expect to write about uniforms today! This is the fun part of writing whatever is on my mind in the morning!)
My last day at the job with the terrible uniform was March 5. I was blown away by how handing over those terrible polos lifted my mood and took a weight off my chest. Those polos clearly symbolized something bad in my mind, something I haven’t finished unpacking. But since then, I’ve been contending with the realization that I have no idea what my personal style is anymore! I’ve spent the majority of my twenties working at places with some variation on a uniform. Even when it was somewhere like Blue Bottle where I actively liked the dress code, it was still a bit restrictive.
So all week I’ve been playing with looks. I’ve been forcing myself to wear my hair down, I’ve been getting dressed up to go to my office. I pulled everything out of my closets yesterday and started trying things on, putting outfits together again. I joined Trunk Club (the Nordstrom box). I’ve been culling like crazy, just trying to get rid of the things that don’t fit me, that don’t feel the way I want to feel anymore.
It’s a weird feeling. In some ways it’s also like—I’m a 30-year-old woman who never got to have a young fun clothing phase. My parents were very strict about what I wore when I lived with them, then throughout college, I was hiding my body under baggy clothes as a desperate attempt to not attract danger to myself, and then after college, I’ve almost always had a uniform that was imposed on me. There have been brief periods where I wore what I wanted the majority of my time, and each time there came a moment of reckoning where I realized… I had no idea which clothes were “me.”
The clothing that is marketed toward women in their thirties is soooo… boring? It’s all very modest in a way that clothing marketed to women in their twenties isn’t. It seems to assume either that we’ve had babies and are now trying to hide parts of our bodies for one reason or another, or that we have some stuffy corporate job with a drab personality. It’s pre-frumpy, setting us up for a mid-life of boredom.
This is probably why I’ve suddenly started binging Queer Eye—if ever I needed Tan France to tell me what to wear, it’s right fucking now!
I’m curious—what do you wear when left to your own devices, and why?
Now Reading
When I sat down to write today, I thought I was going to talk a little bit about how to build a schedule, but clearly, my brain had other ideas!
I started reading When by Daniel Pink last weekend in preparation for having to set my own schedule. It’s lovely setting my own schedule! But also, how do I do it well? And why does it seem like I can’t make other peoples’ normal schedules work for me?
Well, according to Pink, I’m probably part of the 25% of the population that are night owls into adulthood. Most teenagers are night owls by nature, but something chemical happens in our bodies as we age and we start waking earlier and earlier naturally. Well, usually. Some people remain night owls their whole lives, forever puttering around until 1 or 2 and waking up at 9. Trying to conform to more standard work schedules can be very difficult for those people since they’re literally fighting their biology.
The book is about the field of chronobiology—how do our internal clocks work? Why do we get tired at certain times? Is it universal? (Mostly, yes). And how can we work with our body’s natural biology to be more productive and less miserable? The book includes little workbooks so that you can assess your own natural internal clock and schedule your day around it. Pink shows research about the peaks and troughs everyone experiences. He talks about why it happens and how to actually capitalize on waning energy to do certain types of work that benefit from not being at your “best.”
If you have any control over your schedule (and especially if you have control over other peoples’ schedules!) I really recommend this one. It’s such interesting science.
As always, thank you for reading. If you want to respond just hit reply. Your message will get to me (and only me). If you like this and think your friends might too, feel free to forward it on.
I keep these newsletters free by not worrying too much about typos and flow. But if you want to you can tip me, as a treat.
If you received this email from a friend and you liked it, you can subscribe to this irregularly written series right here:
Stay safe, friends!
Valorie