02 July 2015
Dress for Work
by J R Thomas
Sometimes, when reading the popular prints, one’s eye glides half-seeing over a piece… then, like something glimpsed from a fast car, some rare tree or ancient Bentley behind a gate, one has to back up and have another look. That happened this morning as I read the newspaper in the office. Having backed up and looked again, I then had to check the calendar. Definitely not the first of April. But this was surely a joke, a journalist fired last night leaving his mark for all time by planting a potato amongst the roses.
I looked at my fellow office toilers, the distaff side in summer dresses and the chaps in various permutations of city suits, ties hanging on chair-backs, collars unbuttoned. All handy to re-dress properly should senior management arrive at short notice on the floor. I read out to them what had so enticed my eye: “The TUC has announced that workers should be allowed to wear shorts and vests rather than jackets and ties in hot offices this week, as temperatures rise into the mid-30s.” Much raucous laughter. It was necessary to explain to younger colleagues what and who the TUC is, its ceaseless struggle to make the world a better place in the face of the destructive forces of capitalism and its great and historic role in campaigning for the rights of the working man, and of course woman, throughout the twentieth century.
Emboldened, I read out more: “TUC general secretary Frances O’Grady said: ‘It’s no fun working in a baking office or factory and employers should do all they can to take the temperature down. Clearly vest tops and shorts are not suitable attire for all front-line staff, but those not dealing with the public should be able to discard their tights, ties and suits. Many workers will be working in conditions that are not just personally unpleasant, but will also be affecting their productivity.’ ”
At this point, the laughter suggested that Frances O’Grady was not quite having the impact that she had hoped for by this timely defence of the right of wokers to shed their clothing in the interests of increasing output. I commented to my fellow toilers that this was doubtless an improvement on the days when, if working conditions failed to meet the standard agreed through collective bargaining, the shop steward would have arrived on the floor blowing a whistle and shouting “All Out!” That there would then be a noisy slogan-shouting procession to the car park gates – where an eager crowd would rock the cars of departing senior management – was regarded as a joke stretched more than a little too far. One (male) colleague’s suggestion to another (female) that she might look good in a string vest seemed set fair to start a complaint to Human Resources, until defused by his abject apology and agreement to go to Costa to bring her a macchiato with double shot.
The burst of life slowly subsided, to be replaced by the clicking of keyboards and the soft background hum of the air-conditioning keeping the room at a steady, constant and very pleasant 21 degrees Centigrade.
And I began to compose a thoughtful memo to HR, suggesting that now workers’ rights were once again in the forefront of the struggle for a fairer if somewhat under-dressed society, the company could do much to seize the moral high-ground by issuing, before the autumn winds struck, free bowler hats and patterned headscarves to the entire staff. No sexist dress determinism, of course – the workers to freely choose whichever head gear might be their fancy.
