Category Archives: workplace

Should we “dress our age”?

 Every morning, if we’re not staying in our pajamas all day (which we may well choose to do), we need to decide:  Which items of clothing do I want to wear that day?

Last month, the fashion director and chief fashion critic for The New York Times, Vanessa Friedman, asked “What does it mean to ‘dress your age’?”

This question strikes me as pretty silly. Friedman used it to fill up space in her newspaper, space that deserved a less trivial topic. But I’ve decided to focus on it for a moment.

Here’s my question:  When we decide what to wear each morning, are we supposed to focus on the number of years we’ve lived so far?

Balderdash!

My answer:  Forget about your age!  Who cares?  “Age” is a number, but each person has an individual relationship with that number.  Joe Biden at 81 handles domestic and global issues with considerable aplomb, and film director Martin Scorsese at 81 continues to direct outstanding films, while much younger people struggle with their grocery lists.

Your decision should mostly depend not on your age but on how you spend your day.  Do you spend your day in a workplace?  Workplaces vary tremendously, and your clothing should conform to where you work.  A desk job in an office is very different from a job in a farm or factory setting.

Perhaps you work from home.  Your choices will probably depend on whether you never see another human being or you do see others when you appear in a meeting on Zoom.  And if you spend your day at home with no work commitment, you’ll want to satisfy your own goals.

Your decision will also depend on how your clothes fit and whether you like the way you look in them.

But dressing your age?

Let’s not forget that Friedman’s perspective is that of a working NYC journalist with an undoubtedly healthy income. While she mentions that “strict social or cultural rules about what to wear as you age don’t really exist anymore,” she agrees with me that “how you dress is a statement about who you are and how you want to be perceived.”  She thinks “that changes as we grow up.”  So she has “said goodbye to clothes I generally associate with my youth,” like hemlines above the knee.  She’s now “gravitating toward long skirts…and wider trousers,” which give her “a swishy feeling” when she walks. 

Exactly where is Friedman walking? Maybe that works for her, but I can’t imagine seeking out “a swishy feeling” when I walk. Negotiating city streets as I stroll through my neighborhood, I need clothes I can move in quickly, zooming through crosswalks without getting hit by careless drivers. [Please see my blog post, “Thank you for not killing me,” https://susanjustwrites.com/2021/08/.%5D  

Even a New York Times fashion expert should get real.  How many women want to get that “swishy feeling” when they walk?  How many can afford to or even want to when they have far more important things to worry about?

From my point of view, it’s simple: You should wear what you think is comfortable and, if you like, clothes you think look good on you.

I never consider my age when I get dressed.  I tend to choose clothes I find comfortable, eschewing anything that’s so tight that buttons gap and waistbands pinch.  My go-to clothes are black t-shirts and black pants, which are both comfy and make me feel OK about how I look.  Because I primarily work from home, sitting in front of my desktop computer, I usually don’t worry about how I look to others.  When I do leave home, my attire depends on where I’m going and who will be there. 

I generally try to “outsmart the bad guys” by wearing fairly worn-out and dumpy garb. [Please see my blog post, https://susanjustwrites.com/2021/08/06/outsmarting-the-bad-guys/.%5D These are just fine when I walk around my neighborhood.  But if I’m going to be seen by people I know, I’ll make other choices.  Still comfy but not quite so dumpy.

Women in my daughters’ age-range make choices that work for them.  My older daughter has a hybrid working environment, part-time working from home, often appearing in meetings on Zoom, and sometimes showing up at her office.  So she wears whatever suits the occasion. Her taste is impeccable.  But she also chooses comfort as much as possible.  My younger daughter works almost exclusively from home and invariably chooses comfort.  But when she has an occasional meeting on Zoom, she aims at looking a bit more spiffy.

My teenage granddaughters, members of Gen Z, may be the only people in my life who “dress their age.”  They’re dazzling in whatever they wear, but they tend to choose clothes their contemporaries are wearing. (Didn’t we do that when we were teenagers?)  They also express their own style by wearing t-shirts and sweatshirts featuring a favored university, a city they’ve traveled to, or a popular band.  On occasion, they’ll wear semi-glamorous dresses for major social events, but basically you’ll find them in jeans and a t-shirt.

Friedman concludes by applauding the choices of women of a certain age “who look as if they know who they are and are comfortable telegraphing that to the world.”  She lists five or six Hollywood actresses, privileged women who can spend gobs of money on what they wear.  Maybe they’re good examples of “dressing their age.”  (At that level of privilege, I’d add.) This, Friedman says, means “making your own decisions about what makes you feel good, wide pants and all.” 

Pretty much what I said, right?  Except for the wide pants.

I’ll conclude with my favorite mantra.  It appears on a button I wear and a plaque I display in my living room:  “She could see no good reason to act her age.”

That goes for clothing-choices, too.

Random Thoughts

On truthfulness

Does it bother you when someone lies to you?  It bothers me.  And I just learned astonishing new information about people who repeatedly tell lies.

According to British neuroscientists, brain scans of the amygdala—the area in the brain that responds to unpleasant emotional experiences—show that the brain becomes desensitized with each successive lie.

In other words, the more someone lies, the less that person’s brain reacts to it.  And the easier it is for him or her to lie the next time.

These researchers concluded that “little white lies,” usually considered harmless, really aren’t harmless at all because they can lead to big fat falsehoods.  “What begins as small acts of dishonesty can escalate into larger transgressions.”

This study seems terribly relevant right now.  Our political leaders (one in particular, along with some of his cohorts) have often been caught telling lies.   When these leaders set out on a course of telling lies, watch out.  They’re likely to keep doing it.  And it doesn’t bother them a bit.

Let’s hope our free press remains truly free, ferrets out the lies that impact our lives, and points them out to the rest of us whenever they can.

[This study was published in the journal Nature Neuroscience and noted in the January-February 2017 issue of the AARP Bulletin.]

 

On language

When did “waiting for” become “waiting on”?

Am I the only English-speaking person who still says “waiting for”?

I’ve been speaking English my entire life, and the phrase “waiting on” has always meant what waiters or waitresses did.  Likewise, salesclerks in a store.  They “waited on” you.

“Waiting for” was an entirely different act.   In a restaurant, you—the patron—decide to order something from the menu.  Then you begin “waiting for” it to arrive.

Similarly:  Even though you’re ready to go somewhere, don’t you sometimes have to “wait for” someone before you can leave?

Here are three titles you may have come across.  First, did you ever hear of the 1935 Clifford Odets play “Waiting for Lefty”?  (Although it isn’t performed a lot these days, it recently appeared on stage in the Bay Area.)  In Odets’s play, a group of cabdrivers “wait for” someone named Lefty to arrive.  While they wait for him, they debate whether they should go on strike.

Even better known, Samuel Beckett’s play, “Waiting for Godot,” is still alive and well and being performed almost everywhere.  [You can read a little bit about this play—and the two pronunciations of “Godot”—in my blog post, “Crawling through Literature in the Pubs of Dublin, Ireland,” published in April 2016.]  The lead characters in the play are forever waiting for “Godot,” usually acknowledged as a substitute for “God,” who never shows up.

A more recent example is the 1997 film, “Waiting for Guffman.”  The cast of a small-town theater group anxiously waits for a Broadway producer named Guffman to appear, hoping that he’ll like their show.  Christopher Guest and Eugene Levy, who co-wrote and starred in the film, were pretty clearly referring to “Waiting for Godot” when they wrote it.

Can anyone imagine replacing Waiting for” in these titles with “Waiting on”?

C’mon!

Yet everywhere I go, I constantly hear people say that they’re “waiting on” a friend to show up or “waiting on” something to happen.

This usage has even pervaded Harvard Magazine.  In a recent issue, an article penned by an undergraduate included this language:  “[T]hey aren’t waiting on the dean…to make the changes they want to see.”

Hey, undergrad, I’m not breathlessly waiting for your next piece of writing!  Why?  Because you should have said “waiting for”!

Like many of the changes in English usage I’ve witnessed in recent years, this one sounds very wrong to me.

 

Have you heard this one?

Thanks to scholars at the U. of Pennsylvania’s Wharton School and Harvard Business School, I’ve just learned that workers who tell jokes—even bad ones—can boost their chances of being viewed by their co-workers as more confident and more competent.

Joking is a form of humor, and humor is often seen as a sign of intelligence and a good way to get ideas across to others.  But delivering a joke well also demands sensitivity and some regard for the listeners’ emotions.

The researchers, who ran experiments involving 2,300 participants, were trying to gauge responses to joke-tellers. They specifically wanted to assess the impact of joking on an individual’s status at work.

In one example, participants had to rate individuals who explained a service that removed pet waste from customers’ yards.  This example seems ripe for joke-telling, and sure enough, someone made a joke about it.

Result?  The person who told the joke was rated as more competent and higher in status than those who didn’t.

In another example, job-seekers were asked to suggest a creative use for an old tire.  One of them joked, “Someone doing CrossFit could use it for 30 minutes, then tell you about it forever.”  This participant was rated higher in status than two others, who either made an inappropriate joke about a condom or made a serious suggestion (“Make a tire swing out of it.”).

So jokes work—but only if they’re appropriate.

Even jokes that fell flat led participants to rate a joke-teller as highly confident.  But inappropriate or insensitive jokes don’t do a joke-teller any favors because they can have a negative impact.

Common sense tells me that the results of this study also apply in a social setting.  Telling jokes to your friends is almost always a good way to enhance your relationship—as long as you avoid offensive and insensitive jokes.

The take-away:  If you can tell an appropriate joke to your colleagues and friends, they’re likely to see you as confident and competent.

So next time you need to explain something to others, in your workplace or in any another setting, try getting out one of those dusty old joke books and start searching for just the right joke.

[This study, reported in The Wall Street Journal on January 18, 2017, and revisited in the same publication a week later, appeared in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology.]