As the song goes, picture this. What image jumps into your mind’s eye when you think of businessmen or women? Suits, shoulder pads, shiny shoes, and striped shirts? Or maybe Michelle Mone stylee power dressing, towering heels and hair coiffed to within an inch of its tweaked and teased life?
No? Perhaps what floats your business stereotype boat is the Richard Branson/Steve Jobs/James Dyson school of open-necked shirt, lambswool v-neck and sports jacket.
All of these sartorial stereotypes fit neatly into buffed up boxes of perception about power brokers and the high heid yins of big business, but they’re far from the whole story.
In the few short weeks since entering the enterprise fray I have seen a veritable catwalk of business dress codes. Everything from a beautifully cut gunpowder grey three piece suit with a gorgeous old gold pinstripe and matching shirt, to a particularly natty pair of Converse sneakers topped off with super skinny raggedy-arsed jeans and a real deal old-school biker jacket. And that was just on the women.
I’ve admired (and been slightly scared of) sleek suits, fab frocks, sky high heels and the odd splash of vivid colour in amongst the black, navy and grey. I’ve looked on longingly at the creatives, the artfully dishevelled and carelessly cool of modern commerce.
But where exactly does the ex-punk rocker, tattoo emblazoned, non-conformist and rebellious middle-aged mum and erstwhile company director fit in on the snappy suit scale? When it comes to clothes I’ve never been much of a girly girl, let alone business babe. But now that I’m hanging about with the big boys and girls perhaps it’s time to grow up and fit in. Yes, maybe the moment has come to mothball the Clash t-shirts, Doc Martens and Harrington jacket and join the pinstripe parade.
On the other hand, maybe I should just cock a sartorial snook, cling tight to my punk rock past – to hell with what the suits think of my non-corporate clobber.
Let’s face it tho, there’s always a fashion fulcrum to be found. High heels and shoulder pads aren’t likely to make an appearance in the wardrobe of this particular business owner any time soon, but the tattoos might, just might, get covered up by that nifty new Fred Perry fitted jacket when there’s a need to play by the business book.
But until then, where did I put those monkey boots?
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