I was reading a biography years ago about a successful business woman in the late eighties working in the music industry. The name of the woman and the book both elude me now. The heroine of the book, in a way I’m sure was common then {now?}, donned a suit of armour to face her predominantly hostile male office environment every day. Sharp suits, masculine tailoring, dark brooding colours. She felt strong in this suit. But fake too. Her genuine self was hidden behind the black armour of boxy corporate attire.
This week I stood helpless in a situation that there wasn’t a way out of. I felt small and weak. Tears of frustration welled in my eyes before I could properly convey what I needed to say. I needed to be heard. Called from home, I was wearing track suit pants, a t-shirt and flip-flops. I couldn’t help but wonder as I walked back to my car, when it was over, if I would have handled it differently in my own version of a suit of armour. A pencil skirt and killer heels, of course.
Had I done and said everything I would have if I felt more at home in the clothes I wore. If my hair was done and I had makeup on. Would the people there have listened to me more? What would I have done differently? Would I have held my ground past the point I did, demanded I be heard. Or would it have looked the same in the end. I’ll never know if it would have ended up differently. But I think I would have FELT different.
It’s a strange idea this whole personal style thing. For me it’s part shield, part expression, part function and part form. And whole lot about budget and access too. But how much of it factors into my self-worth and my confidence? I noticed in that moment that I wished I LOOKED better how much my appearance still impacts me. Sure I got the job done in the end but it took something to muster the courage to demand to be heard when I felt so blah.
It’s an excuse, of course. One I’m sure we have all used. An excuse like I’ll make more of an effort when I lose 5kg. I’ll like myself more when I get my teeth fixed. I’ll be better and nicer and calmer and smarter when I grow a few inches taller. This programming, the excuses, are so impactful that something like being in house clothes made me question if I should speak up. Made me question if I would be seen to have value.
Interesting. Don’t you think?
Interesting to question these thoughts and ideas when I have them. To challenge their validity and to ask myself ‘why is that?’. To continue to deconstruct the programming that my worth as a woman is intrinsically linked to the level of beauty I obtain. And don’t forget sexiness. That’s important to. After all how do I obtain what I want as a woman without my feminine wiles. My quiver of trickery and fluttering lashes?
The charms of a woman are something to behold. Of course. But what happens when we forget that our power doesn’t actually live there? Forget, ever for a moment, that our value lies in much more important things. In our kindness towards others, our generosity and the gifts we share with the world. The contribution we are to people. That sort of thing. Intelligence, beauty, wit, charm, grace… All of it is an idea created long ago passed down to us.
So tonight I wonder. I consider what I really believe. I ponder and let it spill onto the screen. I hope that it speaks of what I’m trying to say about being who you are. About empowerment and the need to be heard no matter what. I’m not sure it does actually. But for me, the process of writing it has settled my mind. Assured my heart. I am braver in my armour. But I can be brave without it.
So I ask you this, do the clothes make the man? Woman in this case.
Hi! I’m Melissa Walker Horn. Around here, they call me Suger. I’m the Chief Blogger and doer of all the things here at Suger Coat It. Blogging since 1901; I love a casual ootd, taking photos, and writing about things that irk or inspire me. I love wine and cheese, long days at the beach and spending time with my family. I make stuff for the internet over at Chalkboard Digital. You know, living the sweet life.
There is so much power in how we present ourselves. And we need to keep reminding ourselves, or at least I do, that presentation is only part of the package. I have been raised with an innate abhorrence of being underdressed. It really throws me when I end up turning up to an event or gathering that I feel I am underdressed for. It’s a personal thing and something that I really have to work on to ensure it doesn’t erode my confidence. Like you so aptly said, our power doesn’t live in my appearance and it’s a concept that I am still learning to live.
This is me too. And the reminding of myself exactly that is something I have to do on a regular basis. Thanks for adding to the conversation as always lady. x
When I was 17, I failed my drivers test (on my birthday). I was so bummed. To cheer myself up I changed into a black pencil skirt and white collared shirt to make myself feel better, stayed in it for 10 minutes, the got back in my school uniform to head back to school.
Perfect example, there is certainly power in how we present ourselves. Even if just to ourselves, in the mirror, for that moment. Thanks for sharing Kate. x
I think this is an issue that is similar for both genders. I used to work in IT and worked with mainly male co-workers with a wide range of dress styles from business suits to pretty casual. People can say they should be taken for their ideas and their work etc. but, when you dress in a dishevelled manner, really isn’t that saying to the world that you are sloppy and don’t pay attention to detail?
That’s it right? I go around and around on this one. Make an effort, then for who? and why? Then I think, for me of course. But why for me? And around and around I go. Haha.
It does, but in my experience sometimes it is an empty suit. I work with a female supervisor who is always dressed nice and her appearance is always spot on but she is always stealing others ideas, lets somebody do 95% of the work and then jumps in for the final 5% and takes all the credit, stuff like that.
Indeed it does, sometimes it’s not armour, it’s a mask. Or the clothes version of a lie. People like that annoy the hell out of me.
Love this post! It IS an interesting question, but one I do not know know the answer to.
I feel more confident in my appearance when I think I look good (groomed, hair nice, nice clothes) BUT I think back to when I didn’t really care about my appearance and wore any old clothes and no makeup to the office, I wasn’t any less of a force of nature to deal with then when it came to work politics 🙂
So I don’t think I’m more confident in my manner or making my opinion heard when I don a suit of armor, but it does give my self-esteem a boost!
Thank you Sarah. It IS right!? I love a good ponder. Haha. Great addition to the conversation. I’m sure you are absolutely a force to be reckoned with! Love it.
I do believe that when I am well dressed and my make up is on that I can put forward a persona that is cool,calm, collected and able to stand up to those who might look down on me in my home clothes. I like the fact that I can have a suit if armour, that can come off when I get home and am with my husband where I can be me and me alone. Maybe this is wrong for some people but it works for me.
I don’t think there’s a wrong answer. If something makes you feel good about yourself, then great, I say. I’m just always curious to explore why that is and where it came from. I too enjoy the end of the day flop on the couch with Hubby, it’d the best of times.
I think you hit the nail on the head. We all gather our inner strength and feelings of worth from a broad range of places. Some internally and some externally. I know I feel much better about myself if I have a pedicure and my toes are all cute, but most of the time I am the only one who see’s them. It all adds to our “armour” and makes us feel stronger and more capable.
Thanks D. A perfect example, but ick, feet. Haha.
Naomi Wolf thrashed that one out in The Beauty Myth. Big questions for women today and something I’ve thought about a lot.
I’ve heard about the book but never read it myself. It might be time to pick myself up a copy. Thanks Sophie.