Mother in Law: Dressing to (not) impress

In April 2021 (which, if I remember correctly, was a beautiful time when I was back to only being asked to do one impossible job during daytime hours) I wrote a blog about dress codes coming out of the lockdowns. I’ve reread it and it is quite hard to see what my conclusion was. Shocking, I know, as normally my columns are so well structured. If anything, I think it was ‘you (by which I mean me, not you) only got into this job to look like Ally McBeal so don’t let your teenage self down now’. 

Reader, I think I’ve changed my mind.

At this point I will give a warning like I did in the previous column – this article might not be for you. There are probably articles in this week’s magazine on compliance, GDPR, fixed recoverable costs and a paralegal being banned from the profession for making a mistake. They are all good things to read and you can just skip over this one if you like.  

Since that blog I’ve moved firms, you see. My new firm has a ‘dress for your diary’ policy. I’m sure this goes without an explanation but it means if you have meetings with clients, a court hearing, a networking event etc then you should dress as smartly as you see fit, but the rest of the time you can wear what you bloody well like. Except, for some reason, belly button rings and Crocs. I’ve yet to find out who in HR drafted the policy. I’m not against those two exceptions but I just think they are slightly odd hills to die on.

Because you really can wear anything. Ripped jeans. Muddy trainers. Denim shorts with one of those chains hanging out the pocket like the grungers used to wear at sixth form. T-shirts with slogans (possibly with limitations). Vest tops with mid-thigh shorts. Converse high tops. You can have all your ink on display (yes, I am trying to sound cool). Green hair. Pink hair. No make-up. DMs. Dungarees. I’ve seen all these things.

And guess what? The Earth still turns a full circle each day. The Moon still orbits it once a month. To my father-in-law’s disbelief, everything is OK. Fee-earners still fee-earn. Secretaries, it seems, can still type and make appointments and placate clients.

But they do it in comfort. They do it in weather-appropriate clothing. At this point it is relevant to mention I nearly fainted and/or fell asleep on many occasions as a trainee because I was hot but too scared to take my jacket off. One blazing July day I had to photocopy for seven hours straight in high heels and my feet doubled in size to the extent I couldn’t get my shoes off when I got home. Madness. In contrast, last winter I wore woolly jumpers; in the summer I wore T-shirts and shorts. The downside, of course, is that I have seen a lot more of my male colleagues’ legs than ever before (having never seen any of my male colleagues’ legs ever before), but I suppose they get to be comfortable too.

The main thing for me is that I get to wear shoes that are the shape of feet. And not once have I worn ‘strong pants’. My blood flows freely from my brain to my toes and back again. This alone, I am sure, adds a few units to the chargeable time I achieve each day.

We have, of course, come a long way and I understand that it is hard for my father-in-law and his ilk to come to terms with. I recall a snowy day in about 2006 when our accounts manager came in wearing jeans. I don’t know why my friend Megan and I found it so funny; I think it was mainly the panic with which British people react to an inch of snow and how jeans had no practical benefit in such weather. She was making some kind of point (she was always making some kind of point) and we were left rolling our eyes. Even now, I could (and often do) say to Megan ‘remember when Brenda came in wearing jeans’ and she would start laughing. Now, I walk in each morning to a sea of jeans.

The other great benefit is that there is no telling who is a fee-earner or who is a secretary, who is the senior partner and who is the man who drives files between offices. This is a great leveller.

And, I hear you ask (because I have been asked a number of times), what if a client pops in without an appointment? I go down to see them and say ‘I’m sorry I’m a bit casual, I wasn’t expecting to see anyone today’, and the Earth keeps turning.

Some facts and identities have been altered in the above article