It was a meeting like any other, indeed, like a thousand others. There were three groups represented: the client, a design firm and a production firm, not to mention the venue we were charged with checking out. Our goal was to survey the space, one of the finer clubs in the city, and develop an appropriate plan for the upcoming event. Emails had gone back and forth, trying to find a time that would work: after all, we each had schedules and commitments, and playing Tetris with those is always one of the hardest parts of any project.
Finally we found a time slot that worked, and agreed to rendezvous in the lobby at a day and time certain. I got there a little early, recognizing one of the representatives from the other firm. We sat in the ornate lobby and chatted a bit, waiting for the others to arrive. Another associate joined us, followed shortly thereafter by the clients. We greeted each other and made small talk while we waited for the venue manager to join us. In short order she appeared, and said hello while casting a critical eye over us. Her next comment stopped us all in our tracks: "Sorry, you can't come in."
We all looked at each other, puzzled. We were there for one reason, and one reason only: to survey the space. And yet we weren't allowed to enter? She continued: "We have a strict dress code. No jeans, no sneakers, no spandex. It was in the email I sent." Indeed, 4 of the 5 of us had on athletic footwear, 3 had on jeans, 1 had on leggings, and that included both clients. She looked at us stone faced, the guardian of her gate fending off we barbarians.
Dressing for a business meeting these days has never been both easier and more difficult. It's a continuum that starts at Brooks Brothers, makes stops along the way at J Crew and the Gap, and eventually terminates at WalMart. Along that line there is business, cocktail, smart casual, business casual, neat casual, casual, jeans and what can generically be called "tech." What you wear depends on the day of the week, the type of meeting, the people involved and the activity taking place, not to mention the personalities and organizations involved, and the impression you want to convey.
It's complicated by the fact that nothing stays in its own lane. Some suits are highly tailored affairs, while others are loose fitting and unstructured. There's denim, and there's denim-look. There are dresses designed to look like a million bucks, and million dollar dresses that don't look like they cost ten. There are $100 suits and $5000 jeans, $40 wingtips and $800 sneakers. And it's not always obvious by the age or bearing of the person inside the clothes whether they are dressing up, dressing down or have so much clout that they just don't care.
In the case of this club they are trying to uphold a tradition that is squarely at odds with the rest of the world. One can well imagine a multi-billionaire technology leader, or a Hollywood A lister, or a new media wunderkid who has nothing but jeans and spandex and sneakers. But while my variants on those items might come from Kohls, theirs come from Channel and Dolce & Gabbana and Prada. If the goal is to uphold a certain level of clientele by using clothing as profiling device, there are missing many boats. Working from that cursory screening, I am often a sheep in wolf's clothing, while the others are precisely the opposite.
Our client pulled the venue manger to the side for a hushed conversation. The woman nodded, then went in back to confer with management. She came back a few minutes later, and said they would allow us to go upstairs as long as we used the back corridors and took the service elevator. We needed to see those areas anyways, so it as no problem as far as we were concerned. But while hoodies and turtlenecks are on the permissible list, one would have to hope that a Mark Zuckerberg or a Steve Jobs type joining us for the show would remember to leave their Berluti Playtime Palermo Scritto Calf Leather Sneakers at home (Price: $1340 a pair), or else they won't get past the lobby.
-END-
Marc Wollin of Bedford can never figure out the right thing to wear. His column appears regularly in The Record-Review, The Scarsdale Inquirer and online at http://www.glancingaskance.blogspot.com/, as well as via Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter.
Finally we found a time slot that worked, and agreed to rendezvous in the lobby at a day and time certain. I got there a little early, recognizing one of the representatives from the other firm. We sat in the ornate lobby and chatted a bit, waiting for the others to arrive. Another associate joined us, followed shortly thereafter by the clients. We greeted each other and made small talk while we waited for the venue manager to join us. In short order she appeared, and said hello while casting a critical eye over us. Her next comment stopped us all in our tracks: "Sorry, you can't come in."
We all looked at each other, puzzled. We were there for one reason, and one reason only: to survey the space. And yet we weren't allowed to enter? She continued: "We have a strict dress code. No jeans, no sneakers, no spandex. It was in the email I sent." Indeed, 4 of the 5 of us had on athletic footwear, 3 had on jeans, 1 had on leggings, and that included both clients. She looked at us stone faced, the guardian of her gate fending off we barbarians.
Dressing for a business meeting these days has never been both easier and more difficult. It's a continuum that starts at Brooks Brothers, makes stops along the way at J Crew and the Gap, and eventually terminates at WalMart. Along that line there is business, cocktail, smart casual, business casual, neat casual, casual, jeans and what can generically be called "tech." What you wear depends on the day of the week, the type of meeting, the people involved and the activity taking place, not to mention the personalities and organizations involved, and the impression you want to convey.
It's complicated by the fact that nothing stays in its own lane. Some suits are highly tailored affairs, while others are loose fitting and unstructured. There's denim, and there's denim-look. There are dresses designed to look like a million bucks, and million dollar dresses that don't look like they cost ten. There are $100 suits and $5000 jeans, $40 wingtips and $800 sneakers. And it's not always obvious by the age or bearing of the person inside the clothes whether they are dressing up, dressing down or have so much clout that they just don't care.
In the case of this club they are trying to uphold a tradition that is squarely at odds with the rest of the world. One can well imagine a multi-billionaire technology leader, or a Hollywood A lister, or a new media wunderkid who has nothing but jeans and spandex and sneakers. But while my variants on those items might come from Kohls, theirs come from Channel and Dolce & Gabbana and Prada. If the goal is to uphold a certain level of clientele by using clothing as profiling device, there are missing many boats. Working from that cursory screening, I am often a sheep in wolf's clothing, while the others are precisely the opposite.
Our client pulled the venue manger to the side for a hushed conversation. The woman nodded, then went in back to confer with management. She came back a few minutes later, and said they would allow us to go upstairs as long as we used the back corridors and took the service elevator. We needed to see those areas anyways, so it as no problem as far as we were concerned. But while hoodies and turtlenecks are on the permissible list, one would have to hope that a Mark Zuckerberg or a Steve Jobs type joining us for the show would remember to leave their Berluti Playtime Palermo Scritto Calf Leather Sneakers at home (Price: $1340 a pair), or else they won't get past the lobby.
-END-
Marc Wollin of Bedford can never figure out the right thing to wear. His column appears regularly in The Record-Review, The Scarsdale Inquirer and online at http://www.glancingaskance.blogspot.com/, as well as via Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter.
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