The Young Professional wears Zara: The thread between clothing, class, and cultural capital that is sewn into the fabric of the workplace

I really hope you caught my The Devil Wears Prada title reference, and if not, I hope you have now! I have always been interested in fashion; as a teenager I watched Project Runway and Ugly Betty and one of my favourite pastimes was to draw outfits onto blank silhouettes in the TOPModel drawing books from Toys R Us and WhSmith.?

The idea of working for a fashion magazine was glamorised in countless 2000s chick flicks that I have lost count of. In TDWP, Anne Hathaway's character Andy undergoes a style transformation that parallels her career trajectory working for her Editor-in-Chief, Miranda. As Andy becomes more stylish and removes class ‘signifiers’ (reading recommendation on semiotics: Roland Barthes’ The Fashion System [1967]) such as by wearing items from expensive designer brands instead of high street stores, she is offered more opportunities. Whilst this is a fictional workplace, I do not think this is a fictional experience. The thread between clothing, class, and cultural capital is rife in UK society…?

I actually wrote a university essay about the link between aesthetics and politics, focusing on a handful of women from the political sphere. Most of this related to colour and shape symbolism though - like wearing purple to show unity in straddling the political colour spectrum of red and blue, or wearing pink to show femininity, or wearing a pussy-bow blouse to nod to a certain type of feminism, or wearing a tie to nod to another. Since leaving university and such essays behind me to navigate the workplace (which for me means going into various government offices), I have begun thinking about this from a different perspective. I now like to imagine Meryl Streep sarcastically saying ‘’navy suits? in Whitehall? Original’’ (instead of ‘’florals? For Spring? Groundbreaking.’’) to articulate my point.?

I grew up in a village where the closest stores to access via a bus ride were New Look, Peacocks, and M&Co, and I certainly experimented with different styles at school (the ‘’scene phase’’ comes to mind as inspired by Hayley from Paramore). After attending a university in and living in Bristol for a few years, my interest in fashion became more philosophical as I was suddenly in one of the most creative cities in the UK and surrounded by people a range of socioeconomic backgrounds - with varying amounts of economic capital to spend on clothing, cultural capital to channel into personal branding, and social capital to demonstrate a sense of belonging through style. This coincided with my formative experience of understanding social mobility and becoming comfortable sharing details about my identity with others - hence the reflective blog post.

I found it interesting that as I looked around lecture theatres I saw so many students in clothing that was more stereotypical of my own background than their own, and this did not match up to the ‘Russell Group look’ I had expected. Intertextuality in fashion functions the same as in novels; our reading is influenced by what we have read prior to and after this encounter, in this case our reading of the language of clothes. If we grow up understanding that working-class people wear tracksuits and middle-class people wear tweed because of real life interactions or popular characters (and that this somehow relates to intelligence?), then when we see somebody wearing either option we subconsciously assume their status and project a whole load of other assumptions onto them too! In TDWP, Andy’s colleagues assume she will be incompetent based on appearances; it is assumed she will not know about fashion journalism simply because she wears neutral-toned turtle-necks.?

In the Civil Service I also see a difference in dress depending on the profession people belong to. For instance, working in policy involves more interactions with politicians and the occasional visit to Parliament, which lends itself to a higher majority of employees wearing traditional business attire with brogues (this is coming from somebody who wears black patent brogues to work everyday herself). However, working in communications involves more creative deskwork, which lends itself to more casual pieces and nice trainers. These are sweeping generalisations, but it is interesting to consider the different professional ‘outfits’ even within one workplace; just like in the office of Runway magazine, Andy's close proximity to power exacerbates the expectations of her.

Everyone wears clothing to the office (thankfully) and obviously there is a certain standard of professionalism everyone should adhere to, regardless of age or class, but I have observed this causes the most stress for young professionals who often have the least amount of disposable income to spend on their wardrobe (and as a woman I see this as an intersectional pressure). Somebody paid around ￡20k might shop in Primark, somebody paid around ￡30k might browse Zara, and somebody paid around ￡50k might choose & Other Stories. In TDWP, Andy’s colleague Emily is shocked to see her wearing the latest season’s knee-high Chanel boots. Emily asks ‘’Are you wearing the -’’ to which Andy smugly responds ‘’The Chanel boots? Yes I am.’’. Andy's smugness in this interaction comes from the fact she has broken the code; the code that says you must look the part in order to be the part. Not everybody can afford to paint themselves in the clothing palette most visually appealing to colleagues though (Andy cannot really afford this either), and they should not have to worry about being treated in a way that correlates to their budget.

Especially in the transition between university and the workplace, if a young person does not have savings or financial support, they cannot feasibly purchase an array of smart outfits all in one go… they wait to get paid. In TDWP, we see Andy living in a small NYC studio apartment and relying on her parents for handouts - so the image she projects in the public workplace does not match up to her private life. This contrast is something that continues on through Instagram almost two decades after this film was released. Before I have started any new job, the night before always includes me getting into a panicked state whilst trying to put together the most perfect look - one that shows I am professional but personable, serious but stylish, and individual but intellectual. I dress in a way I like (my friends could easily describe a few staple pieces such as my pink trench coat), but I am also aware that these choices have been influenced by culture, class, and a need to prove myself in certain settings.

The summary of my thoughts on this topic is that clothing is culturally loaded: a garment’s dialect of colour; accent of cut; rhetorical devices of embellishments; syntax of shape; and tone of texture weave together to craft sentences for others to read, just as pieces craft outfits. In the workplace, somebody should 'fit in' and be given tasks and responsibilities because of their values, experience, and skillset, not because of their appearance.