How many times have you heard, or better yet, uttered “Don’t judge a book by its cover”? Perhaps you paid lip service to this time-tested homage because you thought it the right and polite thing to do. After all, people in glass houses, right?
Maybe a friend or colleague made a snarky comment in haste regarding a person’s appearance and you kindly reminded them to not judge that person’s inner content by the dust jacket they happened to be wearing that day.
“There is no way that guy has a million dollars,” said Jen, the friend or colleague. “I mean, look at the car he drives, and his hair – I’ve seen better grooming on the newspaper boy.”
Jen may have a point. As loath as we are to have people make snap judgments on us (I’ll admit, I have trekked to the all-night market wearing old sweats, my hair thrown back in a reckless ponytail, but when you’re out of milk for morning coffee, drastic measures must be taken). However, I certainly wouldn’t show up for work looking like I’d just cleaned the garage, and for good reason.
Appearance and credibility go hand-in-hand. It is a component of professionalism. As a public affairs specialist, the way I present myself is essential to the good keeping of the organization for which I work. It is a quintessential tie-in to the proverbial “a first impression is a lasting impression.” The organization I work for happens to be the United States government. I have a fairly set standard when it comes to what I wear to work each day. Whatever your organization, whether it be big, small, federal, local or freelance, the key to appearance is to know your audience. Here’s an example:
Jen is on vacation in a remote area of Nevada when she unexpectedly develops a searing tooth ache in the middle of the night. The only available on-call dentist has been contacted by her insurance company and is on standby. He is ready and able to assist poor Jen, and take care of that pesky tooth ache.
Jen manages to drive herself to the dentist office, and pulls in to the small parking lot. The building is located 50 yards off the highway (she knew it was the dental clinic by the glowing neon blue sign posted in the window that read “24-Hour Dental Care”). As she gets out of her car she notices there aren’t a lot of people around. The parking lot has one modest sedan and one black and silver tricked out Harley Davidson. Hmm, this is a bit different, she thinks to herself. But the pain is unbearable, and brave Jen decides to press on.
The receptionist, who is dressed in floral print medical scrubs, has a friendly face and clean hands and nails. She greets Jen warmly, and reassures her everything will be fine. Just as our brave girl turns to sit down, receptionist Wholesome says, the dentist will see you now. Please, follow me.
All comfy in the dentist chair, Jen takes a deep albeit painful breath. Relief will soon be mine, she thinks. She hears the dentist approaching, and turns to see the body double for Clarence “Clay” Morrow standing in the doorway to the dental clinic known by its ghostly neon blue sign.
Now, for those of you not familiar with Clay, he is the character played by Ron Perlman on the television show Sons of Anarchy. You may be asking yourself what in the world does Sons of Anarchy have to do with appearance and professionalism in the wonderful world of communications? Well, it has to do with our preconceived notions, and how we view people who work in jobs that require education, technical ability of a savvy sort, and well-honed people skills to look their part.
What do you do when a man who is 6 feet taller than a two-story building, and wearing jeans, black biker boots, and a shirt that features a skull on fire, says to you, “Open wide, and let’s see what’s going on in there.” Yikes!
If I were in that dentist chair, I would say a few Our Fathers, take a deep breath, and hope to heaven this giant man had my best interest at heart. Why? Because, what else would I be able to do? I’m in remote Nevada and have a toothache like nobody’s business.
However, if you are a communications specialist, you may have lost a potential client. Then again, you may not have. It goes back to the mantra, know your audience. The communications field is rather ambiguous in that there are a variety of companies and organizations for which you could work. If you are freelance, your clientele could be focused on anything and everything, from the urban art scene to the health sciences.
Whatever area of focus you have, it is beneficial to dress for success. Why? The first thing the client sees is you. How you look may seal the deal. Remember, we may be the communications expert, but without a client, we don’t have far to go. The way you dress, speak and present yourself should be a reflection of the organization your work for; their values, their standard of success. This is what the paying customer expects. If you are working for a Fortune 500 company on Wall Street, I am going to take a wild stab here and suggest not donning the wacky pink, punk-cut and knee-high leather boots as your fave mid-week work outfit. Save that for the job in Los Angeles working for an independent music label.
When you’re browsing the local book shop, isn’t the cover what ultimately draws you in, what pushes you to find out what lies behind the grand facade? What ultimately leads us to buy a specific book is its content. However, the spark that set the journey for content into motion was the draw produced by the cover. What cover do you present to the world as a communications specialist? Do you tip the scales in favor of your organization, and present an image that engages a potential client to discover what’s on the inside?
Kelly Jo Bridgwater is a public affairs specialist in the United States Army. She has worked in PA since 1999. Originally from Oklahoma City, Kelly attended the Defense Information School at Fort Meade, Md., in 2001, and is currently enrolled at St. Leo University where she is majoring in Liberal Arts with a focus on Art History. She is assigned to Fort Eustis, Va.
photo credit: practicalowl via photopin cc
