The Self-Imposed Uniform

 

 

    Every extra minute I can push back my morning alarm is equal to one million dollars in Clairebucks. In high school I knew if I set my alarm for 5:45AM and hit the road at 6:22AM, I could get to campus at 6:48AM, giving me exactly enough time to do whatever it is teenagers do at 6:48AM (I genuinely don't remember). Not once did I wake up at 5:44AM.

   Since joining the 9 to 5 workforce, one step of the morning routine has become insurmountable: Choosing what to wear. Dressing for work straight out of college is hard. Some outfits end up way too sexy, and my coworkers do not need to know that I’m hot (there is nothing I love more than a personal/professional divide). Other outfits end up too frumpy. The secondhand sweaters that worked for study sessions are now too pilled and misshapen for the workplace. The last thing I want to look like at my job is some sort of Dickensian orphan. Again, personal/professional divide: If I'm a ragamuffin street child, it's none of my coworkers' business.

    In pondering how to overcome this obstacle between me and 5 more minutes of sleep, I wondered how much easier my life would be if I wore a self-imposed uniform. Many modern day laborers already wear a uniform to work. Think of your mechanic or the food service workers who serve you coffee. Once they obtain the articles that fit them/fit regulation, their garment-related decisions are through until they find a different job.

   If nothing else, uniforms take away the need to make several small decisions at the very start of your day. You decide once when building your uniform, then trust that decision for the foreseeable future. Say you create a uniform of only a top, a bottom, and shoes. In one month you'll make 57 fewer wardrobe-related decisions, which is a 95% decrease.* Hidden within those numbers is a decrease in self-doubt: Is today's outfit professional? Is it flattering? The time and mental energy you would have spent contemplating (fretting over) your attire is now free for other pursuits, maybe even something that actually interests or inspires you. Anything that reduces decision fatigue is good in my book.

Karl Stefanovics in his blue Suit

     You know who else is already wearing a uniform to work everyday? Men: Suit, shirt, tie. Polo, slacks, loafers. This is a generalization, sure, but it's true. No one expects them to curate their professional attire. Their wardrobe, beyond whether it's actually appropriate for the setting, isn't an expression of self or a persuasive statement. It's simply clothes. No one demonstrated this better than Australia TV anchor Karl Stefanovics, who wore the same suit on air for a year straight. No one noticed, or if they did, they didn't say anything. 

    In contrast, women are unofficially required to assemble wow-factor ensembles everyday. Stefanovics only started his experiment in response to the backlash his female co-host Lisa Wilkinson received against her (perfectly professional) wardrobe. Sartorial expression shouldn't be required, it should be optional. If you ask most men, it is. I've had plenty of fruitless conversations with the old guard, who mock women for wearing painful shoes. But put that same woman in loafers and they deride her in a trite and homophobic fashion. Furthermore, the days of aesthetically-motivated and official (!!) dress codes are far from behind us. Take a look at the letter the flight crew union Unite sent to the head of British Airways in 2019 for proof. 

    Where does that leave women? Conforming to patriarchal standards to avoid scorn or blacklists, while knowing those same standards were created to hold them back. How do uniforms play into this mix? For men, it's a non issue: Look at Steve Jobs, Barack Obama, Mark Zuckerberg, or even beloved puppy-dog Bake Off Champ Peter Sawkins, who wore a Hawaiian Shirt in every episode. It's working for a few women (who, in contrast to Wilkinson, are not in the public eye), like Matilda Kahl and Lauren Thompson. On weekdays they wear their uniforms, and on weekends they wear whatever they want. Kat Thomson created a uniform by sticking to one piece dresses, a balance of expression and efficiency. 

Kat Thomson's uniform

    If it sounds like I'm trying to convince you that self-imposed uniforms are a good idea, it's because I'm trying to convince myself. On the inside, I'm already sold. In my fantasy world, I'm wearing a one-piece flight suit everyday with a crewneck shirt underneath. When I unzip it halfway and tie the arms around my waist, my guns look absolutely incredible. I do a lot of forearm sweat-wiping from my forehead and I stomp around in giant boots. Imaginary wardrobe aside, sleeping in each morning is all the motivation I need. But... I have my doubts. Beyond patriarchal professional development concerns, what if I just get bored? What if I'm totally full of shit and want my one million blouses back? Then again, what if I choose a uniform I like so much it fulfills my need for creative expression via fashion? 

Immediate practical application has been postponed for obvious reasons, so I'm currently testing a more lax uniform: pajamas, then yoga pants, then pajamas again. So far, so good: I don’t think about what I wear. Ever. Then again, no one sees me but my immediate family, whom I don’t need to impress. Regardless, my mornings are noticeably more enjoyable. I don’t start my day with an anxiety inducing, time-crunched decision. My decision has already been made. I’m starting to think the same is true of whether or not I’ll try out a self-imposed uniform when we’re back in the office. Until then, pajamas it is.

-Claire

*Assumes 4 5-day work weeks per month.