The Ironic Businesswoman

I began writing this post from Denver International Airport last week in the midst of – you guessed it – business travel. After writing a few lines on a piece of paper, I recalled the second rule of blogging: you are required to use a computer and the Internet. Thus, this post begins now ...

At the time that I began – literally – writing this post, I was wearing a responsible pair of black slacks. Side note: The word ‘slacks’ makes me think of when I was in the 7th grade and we received dress codes for upcoming band concerts. “Ladies: Navy blue slacks or skirt with white Stone Intermediate Band polo shirt. Nice Shoes. Boys: Navy slacks. Nice shoes”. Whenever I can, I use the word ‘slacks’. My airport attire also consisted of a blouse …top …thing. ‘Thing’ is the only way I can think to describe it. Sized ‘S’, this top-thing is actually very large, which leads me to believe that I was inadvertently shopping in the Women’s section of a department store that will go unnamed in this blog. It was Kohl’s. The blouse-thing has flowers on it and was in – from what I could tell – the business-wear section of the Ladies’/Women’s department and therefore guaranteed that any article found there would be meeting-appropriate. I also had on a short-sleeved blazer thing from H&M. I have bought a few textbook blazers since graduating from college, and they have failed me each and every time. Rather, I have failed myself. While interviewing for jobs after graduating from college, I bought an Ann Taylor suit jacket that was 2 sizes too big for me. Not a terribly big deal, but I missed the business mark. While interviewing for jobs in NYC three years later, I bought a linen blazer from United Colors of Benetton. Was I fucking serious? It was summer, so I guess the fabric seemed appropriate at the time. In fact, one particular interview took place on the hottest day of that summer. While trying to navigate to the office in downtown Manhattan from Laura’s then-apartment in Park Slope, I took the linen blazer off to avoid creating massive sweat spots in the armpit and back areas and instead draped it over my arm. Here’s a nugget of common sense: you shouldn’t drape a linen blazer over your arm on the hottest day of the year in NYC! I showed up looking like a rumpled jerk. Did I mention that my dress was also linen? Who wears linen to a job interview?! I did. And they hired me. Back to my airport business outfit; I was also wearing a pair of black flats. Big deal.

I digress. Obviously I didn’t begin writing this blog to discuss the outfit that I was wearing at the airport. Well, partly. Every time I embark on a business trip, which is fairly often, I feel like a fraud. My struggle to assemble a proper business outfit is something you should consider to be supporting evidence of my inability to truly be a you-know-what. Sure, I’m at the airport with a laptop bag on my shoulder and a BlackBerry in my hand like every other asshole there, but I feel like I’m faking it in a way. I hope that you don’t misunderstand me; I like my job. However, I never aspired to be a businesswoman on the ‘go’, nor do I identify myself as one. I have a job, and therefore conduct business. I just don’t want to be that cliché career woman that you see at the beginning of every romantic comedy. You know what I’m talking about. The Kate Hudson/Jennifer Aniston/Cameron Diaz/Drew Barrymore character is seen in her apartment in the morning scrambling to grab keys and put on a pair of designer high-heels as she rushes out the door in her pencil skirt. She stops at a coffee shop to grab her latte and a bagel. She strides confidently into the office, saying ‘good morning’ to everyone and having everyone say ‘good morning’ to her as she makes her way to her desk (the most obnoxious non-truth of them all). As she puts her purse down, someone comes in to either deliver paper phone messages for her or tell her that she’s late for a meeting. If there is a meeting, Interchangeable America’s Sweetheart is leading it and saying something RIGHT ON. I’m a businesswoman! Together! Sharply dressed! In charge!

When I go to meetings with clients, I carry a Five Star notebook of college-ruled paper as well as a plain paper folder to hold documents/handouts. I recently told Laura that it was probably time for me to purchase some kind of nice-looking bag that would ideally hold pens, documents, etc. Laura suggested an attaché case. I see; I’m not the first person to think of this. Ugh, I sound like I’m trying to be cool. “Whatever! 9-5 jobs are so mainstream.” I don’t think that! I think that jobs are necessary and good for the economy. What am I trying to say here? Maybe that I’m having an identity crisis? Again, I like my job and think that what I do is fundamentally important and helpful to society. Then why do I not look forward to explaining what I do to new people? I think part of it is that I live in Williamsburg/Greenpoint and am surrounded by writers, artists, actors, musicians, and other miscellaneous creative-types. To most of them, K-12 technology is probably not immediately relevant or interesting. Also, if I had to admit that I sometimes have to wear a suit-like outfit to meetings, would they punch me? Disown me? Throw me out of trivia night at Pete’s Candy Store (ok, I’ve never actually been)? I’m coming to grips with the fact that I’m somewhere in the middle; I’m me, and I’m ok with that. Free to be you and me, but especially me. I have a job, live in Greenpoint, AND hang out with hipsters (there, I said it). I wear skinny jeans when the mood strikes me AND sometimes challenge myself to construct sentences while at work that contain nothing but business jargon. You guys, it’s ok!

I leave you with this:

Romy: Do you have some sort of business woman special?
Truck Stop Waitress: Come again?
Romy: Well, we’re business women.
Michele: From LA.
Romy: And you know how some places have like a lunch special?
Michele: For business women...
Truck Stop Waitress: We don't have anything like that.
Romy: Ok we'll take 2 burgers, fries, and medium cokes ‘cause we’re in a hurry.
Michele: We're due in Tuscan later... some business thing, you know.
Truck Stop Waitress: What kind of business you all in?