Suits you, Sir!

A recent survey by IrishJobs.ie  has found that only one in 10 workers now wear a suit to their place of employment and more than that 55% dress more casually than they did before. Assuming to blend in with the tumble weeds that are blowing up and down offices post Celtic Tiger demise.

It got me wondering though, is this happening in every place of business? How important is dress code in the workplace and more importantly what do you wear to work? (Yup, I’m a nosebag)

Because my day is split between site visits, meetings and office based loitering, my own attire can differ hugely day to day. For the most part I go for a tailored look, trousers and blouses, skirts & blouses, cardis & blouses (are you sensing a theme?) But I do always like to look the part and believe that it does change people’s perception of not only you but your authority in the workplace and more importantly your aptitude for the job.

Super Man was on to this concept long before me, choosing to suit up instead of rocking into the office in his pants. The man was a visionary. There is a perceived culture in every business and I think the 55% represented in the poll above were merely shifting with that perception. There is an importance to fitting in and sending the right social message to colleagues.

There are of course exceptions, take  for example Joe Bloggs in Finance who appears every day as if he’s gotten up from a box on the side of the road to join in the water cooler chats. Joe is not too pushed about perceptions or others’ olfactory abuse. No, Sir. To him every day is Casual Friday, from 6 years ago.

Dress Codes: Universally Important. 

Despite my best efforts though, things can go awry. At a meeting recently I showed up in my finest green silk blouse and marl grey suit. During the meeting, however I caught one or two glances toward my cleavage and second guessed my choice. Was it too booby for work wear? I was sure not. Following the meeting and getting freshened up in the loos I spotted the source of attention. Poking out of my green silk was the longest, coarsest BLACK Rottweiler hair that I’ve ever seen (courtesy of Diesel). I DIED. The men at that meeting must have thought, must still think, that I’m sporting a Magnum PI rug on my chesht. Scarlet. For. My. Ma. Having. Me.

So tell me, do you agree with dress codes? (assuming you don’t wear a uniform). What do you wear for the daily grind?