First Days and More Musings on Professartorialism

This past week has been full of firsts for me: my first department meeting as a voting member of the faculty, my first committee assignments, my first classes taught at this university, my first (accidental) vandalism of a classroom smartboard (I wrote on it with a dry erase marker by accident), my first 8am teaching experience ever, my first time having a TA work for me....

 (Dress - Rabbit Rabbit (remixed), Blazer - Calvin Klein (remixed), Sandals - John Fluevog (via Ebay), Necklace - Etsy (remixed)

Yesterday I wrote a quick post about my immediate reactions to a recent article in The Chronicle of Higher Ed and some of the comments that it received.  I was and still am angry about the content of the article and the comments that suggested academics who invest in their appearance are intellectual lightweights.

Firstly, let me tell you, I do not consider myself an intellectual lightweight.  During the last academic year, I finished writing and defended my dissertation; I submitted an article (which has nothing to do with my dissertation) for publication; I taught several different courses at two universities; I served as my dissertation supervisor's research assistant for a quarter; I attended two academic conferences; I've done some copy-editing and helped with some translations.  My personal life was also busy.  I ran two half-marathons and a full marathon.  I blogged my ass off, got married, and got dressed everyday.  Could I have done more?  Yes.  Am I trying to do more this year? Yes.  I will never stop wanting to do research and I will always want to express my ideas.  I doubt I will ever stop wanting to be a better classroom instructor.

I also doubt that I will ever want to stop wearing things that make me feel good about myself.  I do not think a penchant for cute dresses on the one hand or a proclivity for gym shorts on the other have much to do with the life of the mind.  I do not think that sartorial choices dictate whether or not someone is a brilliant scholar or an amazing teacher.  I've had incredible mentors who always dress well, but I've also had incredible mentors who could give a crap less about clothing.  In the end it doesn't really matter.  (If you've read some of our style perceptions interviews, you will see that there is a huge range of student expectations and observations about instructors' attire among people who are most likely to notice - aka style bloggers.)

That said, I do think that we are social creatures and in the classroom dress can be a powerful tool for engaging students.  I wish The Chronicle had delved more into this issue that it briefly addressed, when Ms. Utley said, "When I have to teach the heavy stuff about race, I make sure my hair is done, my outfit is cute. I know it's going to be a difficult conversation for students, and if I have a cute dress on, it becomes easier to talk about race and prejudice." I wonder, for instance, how in her experience it became easier?  Was it because she felt more confident or was it because a pre-class conversation about her cute outfit segued into a class discussion about the racial politics of dress?  Although I wish Utley had phrased her remark differently, I think most of us can acknowledge that clothing can serve as an ice breaker.  A conversation about high heeled shoes can lead to a conversation about gender norms and challenge essentialist assumptions.  A political t-shirt can set the tone for a debate about democracy or ethics.  A themed tie can help forge a bond and spark a conversation about the periodic table.  Clothing can create interest and rapport.  So can other things, too, though -- a mention of a sports team, talking about a Lady Gaga song, telling a joke, juggling, bringing medieval weaponry to class.  And none of these things - not even dress - do it automatically, which is what Utley's remark (perhaps unintentionally) implies. 

In my experience, clothing can help in the classroom to differentiate faculty (especially young female faculty) from students.  There is a fine line in many classrooms between an atmosphere that makes students feel comfortable and safe when expressing their ideas and opinions and one in which the students feel too comfortable.  Sartorial choices can serve as a reminder that a barrier should be there and where the line is.  Historically, clothing has been one of the easiest outward projections of authority.  A blazer cannot turn the meek into the mighty, but it can remind the mighty that she is not meek. 

For many centuries, in many parts of the world, sumptuary laws dictated people's sartorial choices.  The frequent repetition of these laws indicates that many people violated them.  I say let us shun even unwritten sumptuary laws in academia.  Because, like the people I study, I will violate them.