She's Suitable
By Erin Fagan
I stare into the overlit shop mirror, and this other
woman, with her formidable shoulder pads and
monochrome armour, stares right back at me. I suspect this will take some getting used to.
I am trying on a suit at a ladies shop, and there is
a clerk looming behind me, in wait for her final sale.
She is very good at what she does. She has already
drawn out of me that I am a newly promoted manager and
wasted no time in redirecting me to some of the more
expensive selections. And of course she has already
found a couple of accessories for me while I was
changing. And doesn't that petite-sized jacket just
suit me?
It does. I feel powerful in it, too, like I might "look" powerful.
It's not like I've never worn a dress suit before. But
this time it is not for a job interview, because I
already got the job. This is going to be part of my
new wardrobe—I am liberated from the starchy uniform
and free to choose my own image. I feel, however, a
little like I am trying on grown-up clothes for a
grown-up's job. I keep forgetting that I am a grown-up.
So I find myself investing a bit more into an outfit
than I normally would, if I weren't so excited and
nervous and hyper about stepping into work, the next
morning, dressed up as the new Manager on Duty.
**********************
I was just a senior front desk clerk at the hotel
until that day, when my boss ushered me into the
office and offered me the position. Manager on Duty,
with a good salary and opportunity to advance into
more specialized departments. I am to be the first
female floor manager in nearly a year. And I am
instructed to go out and buy a suit for tomorrow.
***********************
Walking through Commerce Court after work, I observe
how other professional women dress and carry
themselves. Of course, the subjective is always
skewed. I know it only seems like other people look
more put together or polished than me, but I still
find myself comparing and making resolutions about how
I should look as a professional woman. The women, in
particular, appear impeccable and carefully assembled
and powerful as they pass through the halls.
This is also downtown Toronto, the financial district,
where image has its undeniable presence and where it
does seem to matter, however superficially, how much is spent on things. In my office, colleagues have made use of the
personal shoppers at Holt Renfrew, whereas I cannot
afford the socks at Holt Renfrew. The men are well dressed, but there is a discernible
difference. The male co-workers in my office generally
seem to simply keep themselves clean shaven, well
pressed, and in ample supply of snazzy ties to match crisp dress shirts.
My colleague really has only one or two blazers, same colour and style, and no one really notices or cares if he wears one a few days in a row. He still looks like "the manager." I suspect it would be noticed if I wore a jacket two days in a row or even if anything were out of place. There is definitely a different standard at play. I have to look the part as well as be the part.
****************************
Some of my colleagues, when I start the promotion,
make a big deal out of how I look and what I am
wearing. One cryptically makes comment on the length
of my jacket and tells me that she heard some tip from What Not To Wear . . . I decide to tune her out on
matters of wardrobe. Several suggest I should be
wearing more eye makeup or lipstick, as though this
were something that could make me do my job better.
Some assume that I will be softer and more
lenient than my senior male colleagues. I am tested to
see how I will handle their different
situations—requests for petty cash, coming in late,
asking to change a shift, and so on. I suspect that I am being compared to various mental
images of the female manager. I can see it at play as
I observe others observing fellow managers. One
colleague is is vocal, unafraid to be aggressive, and
is sometimes negatively regarded by coworkers as being
too imposing. Another gets described in passing as "flaky," or even as less intelligent, based largely on
her manner of speaking. Very little of these judgments
feel connected to the actual work or productivity.
I just want to be myself without being judged—I am not
an aggressive leader, but neither am I shrinking into
the walls. As I start disciplining or training staff,
I find myself scared of how I am being perceived, if I
am being either too strong or too weak. I listen to my
voice self-consciously, and I try to carry myself as
confidently as I can, considering this new realm that
I've stepped into. At first, I don't feel as though I
am fitting the suit, no matter how well tailored.
*************************************
The suit communicates different things to different
people. Customers are especially intriguing in their
behavioural shift—after haranguing a clerk over
something, some customers will politely and observantly listen
to me say the same thing in my own words and will
suddenly accept this largely because I am the person
in the suit. Others come at me more vocally, saving up
special vigour in order to get the most out of me, or
they will save their more elaborate stories of
suffering for my benefit. Either way, I back up my
staff and I probably make the same calls and
resolutions that they would.
Classically, though, even with the suit and the nametag and the authority, I am not always looked upon
as the authority. For example, I am asked to visit the restaurant, with a security officer in tow, to deal with a rude
patron. The patron, of course, immediately begins to address the tall, broad-shouldered fellow and doesn't
really look at the girl in the suit standing right
next to him until I speak and he finally has to deal
with me. When I tell him that I am the manager on
property for the whole hotel, he seems a bit taken aback.
I enjoy exceeding expectations.
**************************************
As my experience and time as a manager accumulates, I
acquire more suit pieces and a lot more confidence in
what I am doing. There is no magic epiphany or moment
of truth—it just kind of happens as I go. I gradually
stop caring so much about comparing myself with other
professionals because I am simply striking out in my
own way. I am wearing as much or as little makeup as I
please, and I am no longer so held back when I need to speak up or defend a policy.
And no one talks me into buying over-priced suits
anymore.
