Layering and the Perils of DIY Fashion Blogging

On Wednesday I photographed my outfit before I went off to a lecture (see below left).  I've been trying to play with layering with sweater material, which can be tricky.  I tried this before back in January with the same dress, but I wasn't that pleased with the result.  This time I layered a brown long-sleeved tee under the red dress that you've seen here at least once a month before.  I am also displeased with constantly wearing my wellies and I've thought about wearing the shoes I'd like to wear with my outfits, but this is actually what I am wearing to slog through snow, slush, and puddles of grossness.

dress:  Anthro/Moth via eBay (remixed here and here)

wellies: Carpelli via Marshalls (remixed a million freakin' times b/c of weather, ugh)

earrings:  same boutique where I got the brown/red/purple scarf

          Left: long-sleeved brown tee:  LOFT                        

sepia floral tights: Anthro/Eloise (remixed)

scarf - H & M (remixed)

gold floret necklace - gifted MIL (remixed)

hat: GAP - gifted MIL

Right: brown cardi: Ann Taylor (remixed)

    brown tights: Assets/Target 

scarf:  World Market (remixed)

choker - Accessorize UK (gifted years ago)

When I saw the photos the next day I liked the palette (red, brown, teal) but not the result.  SME also said I looked school marmish. There was a Jumper Effect of my layering. Avoid this at all costs.

 

Then, on Thursday, I got ready to attend an event, but didn't photograph before I left the house because I was running late. So, I grabbed my camera and left the house. The event in question was a silly party in the office of a senior scholar.  Before long, I had imbibed multiple PBRs and was wearing a glow stick like a halo on my head.  I helped clean up and then... I FORGOT MY CAMERA! I realized this when I was on my way home. A colleague assured me it would be safe on Senior Scholar's Desk.  Safe, of course, but that's not what I was panicking about:  What if Senior Scholar wanted to return the camera to its owner (me) and had to look through the photos to find out who the owner was?  SS would be sure to discover about 15 photos of me posing in the red dress (I was having trouble with the flash and blurriness on School Marm Day).  Needless to say, the Thursday Outfit never got documented, I skipped out on Friend Friday, and I forced SME to drive me to school at 8:30 on Friday morning so I could recover the camera before Senior Scholar looked through them.

I was still unhappy with the School Marm outfit, however, so I re-styled the red dress for a performance I attended last night. The scarf is essential to this outfit (and to keeping me warm). Compare with a shot sans scarf:

The weight of this scarf (and not the lighter teal one) actually lays against the fabric, separating the top of me from a fuller skirt. Not only does it bring everything together in terms of color, but without a belt, the scarf makes the shape and proportionality more appealing. 

How about you?  Have your outfit photos ever been discovered? If so, by a senior scholar or a boss?

Open Forum: Dressing for Different Sensibilities in the Classroom

Last week, this email popped into our inbox here at Fashionable Academics:

Dear fashionable academics:

Over the last few years, we have seen an increase of students from the Middle East, with Muslim background, coming to our university.  As a female professor in a predominately male field, I have always dressed conservatively.  But, now I find myself wondering if I should only wear pants and long sleeves when lecturing.  After all, it is a culture shock for these young men to see a woman in a authority, let alone dressed in a way they would never see at home.

What do you think?  In order to communicate, do we need to dress for our student’s sensibilities as well as our own?  How far does this go?

-Engineering and Technology Professor

After some discussion, Ann Underfunded Humanity and I wrote back to Engineering and Technology Professor and said: 

Dear Engineering and Technology Professor,

Thanks so much for your email.  A couple of us have talked it over and our immediate response to your first question is that you should not feel compelled to only wear pants and long sleeves while lecturing.  We at Fashionable Academics are feminists, who believe that women have the right to dictate their own individual dress and personal appearances.  While it's admirable that you want to take your students' cultural backgrounds into consideration, there are no doubt also impressionable young men and women in your classroom who should see a smart, capable woman in a position of authority who dresses according to her own personal preferences.  After all, these men have chosen to come to the US and have no doubt also been bombarded with media images of western women.  I don't doubt that they experience culture shock, but I don't think we should dress according to the standards of their culture....

Best wishes,
Ann Underfunded Humanity and La Historiadora de Moda

We also asked Engineering and Technology Professor if she would mind if we opened up her larger question of dressing for students' sensibilities here on the blog.  Since she did not mind, I pose the same question to you, dear readers.  To what extent should we be dressing for our students' cultural and social backgrounds and sensibilities and how far does this go?

Personally, as I've gotten a bit older and as I've spent more and more time teaching, I dress more and more for myself (although I do think about how students might perceive me because of the way I dress, especially during the first few weeks of a term).  I don't like to show too much thigh in the classroom because I don't want my students thinking about how long my legs are.  I don't like to dress too casually because I do want to set some boundaries between them and me, and that is one of the easiest ways.  However, I don't worry about taking my nose or tongue piercings out for class.  I might dress more authoritatively if I'm discussing something especially provocative, but I wear sleeveless blouses and dresses, pencil skirts, funky Fluevogs, and colorful tights.  I also tell my students on the first day of class that if they have a problem with a female faculty or with reading then my class is probably not the class for them.

Most of my students at Big State School come from the Midwest, but every term I have taught there I have had several students who are ESL students coming from the Middle East, India, East Asia, Eastern Europe, etc.  I respect that they may have different points of view about historical sources and historical narrative, and that they may have different expectations about the way that teachers and professors dress (as well as how women dress).  Then again students from rural areas often have different expectations and sensiblities than do students from urban areas about dress, as do students who are fundamentalist Christians from those who are agnostic humanists.  There are a myriad of student identities, cultures, subcultures, sensibilities, and expectations in any given college classroom.  It would be impossible to dress so as to make them all happy.  So for me the bottom line is that I dress so that I respect myself, so that I am confident in the classroom, and I can feel that way in an outfit like either of these:

I'm curious as to where each of you draws your own personal line between dressing for yourself and dressing for your students, though.  So, again, to what extent do you think we should dress for our students' cultural and social backgrounds and sensibilities and how far does this go?   Please do share your thoughts!

Imps in Eager Caucus*

There is a little mound in my front yard where some of the neighborhood boys like to play daredevil and try to skateboard, snowboard, and engage in other impish tomfoolery.  However, they were nowhere to be seen when I went outside to take outfit photos yesterday.  So I engaged in some tomfoolery myself:

This¹ is what I wore yesterday to do a bit of work and to run a few errands, get a bang trim, and meet a former student of mine, who is now in graduate school in a much warmer state, for a cup of coffee and a chat. We talked about all sorts of things - research projects, how different grad student life is once coursework is over, whether or not we ever want to have kids, relationships with academic advisers and mentors, and the perils of being a fashionable academic -- in other words being taken seriously as a scholar and still doing things like painting one's nails, wearing fantastic boots, and statement necklaces.

1. Dress - Nine West (remixed)

Shirt dress - Target (remixed)

Shirt - H&M (remixed)

Tights - Target (remixed)

Boots - John Fluevog (remixed)

Beads - Thrifted (remixed)

I have a bit of a moral dilemma right now.  I won a $20 Maurice's gift card from Clare of Between Laundry Days and got it in the mail yesterday.  (Thanks, Clare!)  I'm not sure how I feel about spending it during the shopping ban, though....  Any thoughts on this?

*Emily Dickinson, "Soul, wilt thou toss again?"

Open Forum: On the Perils of Fashion

Megarita's first post on this blog was about the perils of caring about fashion as an academic.  In the early days of the blog, I wrote about why I blog under a moniker. Recently, we were contacted by a reader, Katie, who wanted to know more about our experiences concerning the perils of caring about fashion.  She is working on a thesis about academic feminist clothing and fashion, and came across our blog.  Megarita has already offered some of her insights about this.  I decided to offer some of mine and open it up to you, dear readers.

During my early years in grad school, an older colleauge took my work to task and then later asked me if I spent all of my time accessorizing.  In my defense, it was the first time I had ever tried to use quantitative methods in historical research and there was a bit of a steep learning curve for integrating statistical analysis into historical writing.  One of my friends, who is also very stylish, was told by her advisor that she and I were the most non-academic academics that he had ever known.  Another time, a former student wrote to me and told me that I was the hottest, best dressed, coolest TA he had ever had at Big State School and, even though he was sure I would shoot him down, he just had to ask me out.  One other instance I have to offer is the weird email that I received from a student about my boots.  I shrugged it off as a compliment, but without context, it seemed strange to me.

So let's help Katie out with her research.  Have you ever felt like your personal style has made your colleagues or professors take you less seriously?  Have you ever felt that it contributed to an awkward situation with a student?  If you are not an academic, do you feel that you are judged in your line of work for the way you dress?  Is your profession fashion friendly or fashion phobic?

Cleavage in the Classroom?

Yesterday I wanted to wear a BCBG dress that I love, but that fills me with trepidation every time I wear it to campus.  Why?  Because my right breast threatens to fall out if it every other time I wear it.  I'll think I'm safe, I'll be wearing a proper bra, then I'll bend over to plug my flash drive into a computer console and uh-oh!  I'm suddenly concerned that there's going to be a case of indecent exposure.  I had taken to only wearing this dress with a cardigan buttoned up over it, but it was an unflattering look for me because the dress has a built-in sash.   I realized yesterday that I needed to be a little more savvy with my layering.  By putting a short-sleeved turtleneck underneath, I was able to solve the problem.¹ (Yesterday's outfit also rounded out my week-long boot challenge.)

1. Dress - BCBG (Filene's Basement)

Turtleneck - Necessary Objects (Filene's Basement)

Cardi - August Silk (thrifted)

Tights - Target

Boots - Kenneth Cole Reaction (DSW)

Beads - Blanco

Earrings - Gift

So this brings me to an issue that I've thought about a lot off and on over the years: is cleavage appropriate for professors in the classroom?  How much is too much?  Or is any too much?  I freely admit that I have worn some shirts and dresses that show a bit of cleavage, especially when I'm teaching a summer class. Thoughts from those who teach students and those who sit in classrooms or used to would be much appreciated.

Accessorizers Anonymous?

Megarita’s thought-provoking post, “On the Perils of Fashion,” and an earlier exchange that I had with this wise and well-dressed woman about the issue of anonymity have prompted me to write this post about the perils of blogging about fashion.  While I certainly want this blog to have a readership and I don’t mind sending out a link to it to those that I think will be interested in the issues that this blog seeks to address, I admit that I’m a little bit apprehensive about having my real name connected to the blog.  This is especially true as I face the job market this year.   I realize that the way I dress already sends a message about the kind of person that I am.  Even so, I’m just not sure that I want Professor John Doe, the head of a search committee at Klaxon University, to know that I care about fashion enough to blog about it. The pessimist in me is fearful of disadvantaging myself in an already dismal job market. 


Another part of me (that bold confrontational part of La Historiadora de Moda that makes her so hard to deal with sometimes) wants to just put it out there.  After all, what’s so embarrassing about caring about clothes?  Pretty much everyone wears them, right?  Plus, I teach history, and I tend to focus on social and cultural topics, so, for example, I talk about material culture a lot.  I also study performance and, in essence, clothing is a costume for performing a role.  It can make for a great conversation starter, as both Megarita and one of our readers observed, and it can also make for a fantastic topic of classroom discussion.  One term, I put up this bad boy and used it as a springboard for talking about fashion in Spain and its colonies during the seventeenth century.  

 

(Archangel Gabriel with a Matchlock Gun by Salamiel Paxdei, Late seventeenth century, Bolivia)

After all, the Spanish and creoles in the Americas spent significant amounts of their income on displaying that income through clothing.  Fashion mattered to my historical subjects -- both male and female -- so why should I be ashamed that it matters to me?

Yet that niggling fear remains.  I have already accepted the perils of fashion, so I should at least be aware of the perils of blogging about it.  There is always the chance that other academics will take me less seriously for caring about clothes and jewelry and shoes.  There is always the chance that this blog will keep me from getting that job at Klaxon U.  It probably isn't any more dangerous than having a facebook page or too many hot peppers on ratemyprofessors.  But....  In the end, my compromise is to blog as La Historiadora de Moda, to be prepared for the hopefully remote possibility that someone might ask me about it at a job interview, and to be dressed in a way that makes me feel like a confident and fashionable academic if that possibility becomes a reality so that I can argue my position.

On the Perils of Fashion

When I first started my tenure-track job at a public university, I was determined to play the part of young academic on the go. I would dress professionally so that I would be taken seriously! I would wear my glasses so that no one would think me too young! I would shop for attractive clothing and wear it in the classroom!

Week after week I would trot out my hand-me-down pencil skirts and silk blouses, my wrap dresses and heels, my beautifully-cut Italian suit (half off at Saks Off Fifth!) that got me through MLA in style. No jeans, no t-shirts, no apologies. I shopped at discount places to find the pieces I needed; I tried to freshen up my blazer/jean/boot look to take myself from grad assistant to prof.

As the months whisked past, I realized something.

People really notice how you dress, particularly and surprisingly in academia. My students, particularly the female students, feel very comfortable exclaiming over my shoes or my dress or my latest hair color choices. A few of the young men have also said things like "You look nice today!" While early on I would thank them before wondering whether they ever complimented their male professors this way, I have since taken to just saying "thanks" and moving on. Colleagues are the same way, it turns out. It became a department joke that I was some sort of fashionista clothes horse. When we were offered lanyards for our uni IDs, the chair of our department mentioned, "Well, I think it's safe to say that Megarita will not be caught dead wearing these!" A few other younger professors raised eyebrows, but they were in the minority as the department laughed at "how true!"

Fashion, especially what might be scare-quotedly termed feminine fashion, it seemed, gave me a label. "Young." "Harmless." "Not serious." The bar for fashion is so low in most departments, most universities, that the sight of a pair of stockings sets off klaxons. I am not a supermodel. I am not a fashionista. I am simply a woman who will wear a dress to work every now and again because it looks nice and more put together than jeans.

This is a not a woe-is-me sixteenth-wave feminism diatribe. It's just a note that we few, we happy few "fashionable academics" are noticeable. I've found this to be to my advantage. I class up the joint! I raise the bar! And I still do it because my clothing is my ethos. My dresses and heels are my uniform to face the slavering hordes in battle for 75 minutes several times a day. One good suit can create more conversations than 10 compelling conference papers. The face I choose to present to my workplace is polished and a smidgen meow. Because I know when it comes down to it, my tenure folder only loves me for my mind.