Saving Fashionable Face: The Interview

          I'm beginning to feel like my degree is total bullshit. It has been approximately ten months since I graduated, diploma in one hand, celebratory cocktail in the other. Ten months since I took all of those pictures with family, professors, and people I only kind of, sort of knew but felt like I'd want to remember in ten years regardless. Ten months since I packed all of my belongings in boxes, and moved away from the people I loved and the place I fondly regarded as home. Needless to say, these ten months have been pretty rough, and have only gotten worse due to the fact that I have also spent those ten months unemployed.
          Okay, that's not entirely true. I have spent eight of those months working as a restaurant hostess. My job description includes standing at the front of the house, greeting guests as the come in, taking them to their tables, and (seemingly most importantly) looking pretty while on the clock. I'm not kidding; during my hostess orientation I was told I was hired for my smile and my hair. So you see, while I'm grateful for this position and the small but helpful paycheck it provides me every week, I don't consider it a job. A job is supposed to challenge you, utilize your skills and talents, make you feel like you have some sort of purpose, something to bring to the table for society's benefit. What I'm doing now isn't a job, it's just work.
         In between hosting shifts, I've taken on a second job: finding a better one. I've spent whole days at the coffee shop four blocks down from my house mooching off of their free wifi, drinking much too much espresso, and scouring the Internet for positions that might put my education to some sort of good. Over these ten months, I've sent out upwards of one hundred resumes and cover letters to promising (or at least kind of interesting) positions. The titles have ranged from editorial assistant to copywriter to fact checker to administrative assistant to part-time receptionist to document copier to au pair to dog walker to yes girl to (unfortunately) hostess. Ten months and countless applications later, I have had two interviews. Two. I'm probably coming off as some sort of entitled bitch but that's not really the angle I'm going for. I just know in my blossoming, optimistic heart that I can do more, that I can be something better. I am not above the string of shitty jobs twenty-somethings are being asked to take. I'm grateful for my current position because I know that I have it better than a lot of people. It just makes me sad that we've all stopped dreaming. We all are settling for the mediocre rather than going after those dreams of grandeur we had as undergraduates. Settling is for Pilgrims, and this is 2013. 
          The elusive "they" always say to dress for the job you want not for the job you have, and I couldn't agree more. If I'm going to be honest with you (which I always am) I have to say that the search for my interview gear was more stressful for me than the actual interviews. Primarily, it proved to be a reality check that I still had a great deal of growing up to do. Here I was, this pompous post-grad who thought she was so mature, so cultured, so wise because she had read so many large books. I thought my closet was so adult, so chic, so classic with those pencils skirts and silky blouses. I was so ready for the adult world.
          But then I started reading. I started Googling "what's appropriate to wear to a job interview," thinking the loving search engine would come back with a jovial, "Oh, ho, ho! What you're wearing is just fine, Jojo! Professional companies totally dig that 1960s vintage crop top and high-waisted, lavender sailor shorts! Just remember to throw on that embroidered cardigan with the rabbits, otherwise you could appear a bit too casual, cupcake!" Obviously, I was wrong. First off, web pages (beyond this one and sometimes HelloGiggles) don't ever use that best-friend-bracelet tone of voice. Ever. The Internet is composed in phrases only Tom Brokaw could narrate. Secondly, I found out that dressing for an interview was supposedly a lot like dressing for private school. There's a code, a uniform to which everyone needs to conform. Otherwise, you'll be put in detention and listed as a juvenile delinquent and never get into that Ivy League school, even though both of your parents went there and you'd be a total shoe-in if it wasn't for your pubescent wickedness. Or, in the case of this comparison, you won't get the job.
          I found templates of outfits appropriate for both sexes. Men should wear suits. Women should also wear suits, however with the option of skirt or pants. Unfortunately, men do not have this freedom unless they are Scottish or Irish. If this is the case, they can do whatever the hell they want; those delicious accents are going to get them hired the moment they open their mouths. Both men and women should wear a blue dress shirt; blue is the color most often associated with honesty. However, if one's feeling particularly sassy and confident, he or she could wear a red shirt, which is the color most often associated with power (and sexual energy, if that's the game you're trying to play). Men should always wear ties and women should always wear nasty nude pantyhose. Stick to this code, or you're professionally screwed.
          You can see why I almost threw up on my computer. I had heard horror stories of The Man getting you down, turning you into a corporate clone with no feelings and a pure hatred of all things whimsical, but I didn't realize this soul crushing began even before the interview! Luckily, I was born with a pretty strong sense of what's good and what's evil. I tend to thwart injustice whenever I encounter it. What I'm trying to say here is that I'm a superhero. Anyway, I spent an afternoon perusing these step-by-step, dress-for-success, how-to-do websites... and disregarded them completely and wrote this instead.
          Okay, that's also not entirely true either. I took into account a few bits and pieces. Basic knowledge such as the outfit should be relatively simple, clean, tailored, and made in a durable material. For my interview, I ended up buying the amazing little black dress you see above. It's made of a thick jersey, which although is not what one may call a "professional" material, the pleating and general construction make it fit like a Brooks Brothers dream. My favorite part of the dress is the trim. It's leather. Wearing leather to a interview (even with as small as the detail is) made me feel like a total badass. That's how interview clothes are supposed to make you feel: invincible. Here's my list of helpful hints to get you there, and get the job:

1.) Do your research. Consider the company you're interviewing with. You wouldn't wear the same thing for a law office interview that you would for a museum curator position. Explore the employer's website; take a look at the company's gallery. If they have photos of their current employees, note what they're wearing and plan your interview outfit to be two notches fancier. If you see someone wearing a pressed shirt and tie, add a jacket. If one is shown wearing jeans and an ironic cat tee shirt, opt for slacks and a great sweater. And you should probably look for somewhere else to work if their current employees appear to be freegans raiding the Urban Outfitters' dumpster.

2.) As always, keep fit and material in mind. What makes you think that someone is going to make you part of their company if it looks like you can't even properly dress yourself? Buying a suit, let alone having it tailored is expensive but one perfect black suit can last years if you take the time to care for it. An interview suit is an investment piece that will be well worth the cost once you get your first paycheck. Also, the material of the suit should look expensive, even if they're just faking it. Keep things clean, pill-free, fresh-smelling, and unwrinkled. Even if you can't afford to do your laundry, an interview is not the time to show and tell.

3.) Men-- shoes match socks match belt match pants. It's really not that hard.

4.) Ladies-- consider length and coverage. By now, you should all know that you're total babes. However, a job interview is not the place to showcase that innate foxiness. The length of your skirt should be to the knee or just below it. Your shoulders, neck, and legs should not all be naked at the same time. Pick two. For me, my dress highlights my legs and shoulders very well, so I kept my neck and chest on the DL by wearing a silk scarf. If you choose to keep your neck and shoulders bare, slip into a pair of opaque tights. Your third option (obviously) would be to employ a cardigan or jacket to complete your ensemble.

5.) Another note, ladies-- heels. Wear them. Not only do they (literally) put you on the same level as a male interviewer, who doesn't think that it takes a truly confident woman to wear high heels in an incredibly nerve-wracking situation? Be that truly confident woman and click-clack your way into that building like you own the place. One day you very well could be CEO.

6.) Smile. Seriously, no one likes a Grumpy Gus. This could be the opportunity that changes your entire life. Get excited.

Questionable Conduct: The Hipster

          Does anyone remember the show Tough Love? It was one of the numerous reality dating shows that were incredibly popular about five years ago (and I guess are still so today, unfortunately). The premise of this show was simple: take one macho man who allegedly gets all the honeys with his buff bod and medicine cabinet full of hair products, add eight or nine self-conscious and heartbroken women who tend to cry on cue and wear tube tops as dresses, stir in some sort of "original" plot line, pour over ice, and presto! You have the show VH1 will play ad nauseum all weekend, every weekend. Tough Love's shtick was that Steve (the aforementioned Man of la Macho) would help the ladies navigate the dating world by doling out heavy doses of brutal honesty about what they were doing wrong. He would give them the genuine male opinion about how they came off to a potential suitor, from what they were saying, what they were wearing, even the manner in which they ate. He didn't mind being the bad guy because he knew, in the end, these women would meet their Prince Charmings (at least in front of the camera). The pain would eventually pay off. Long allusion short, for today let me be the Steve of your closet. It's time for me to spread some tough love of my own on a particularly contagious fad: The Ironic Hipster.
          Now, before you go pulling pictures off of my Facebook as proof that I have dabbled in these dark arts from time to time, let me explain myself. Yes, I have worn readers, creepers, cut-up cat shirts, and things with a mustache motif. Men and women of the jury, I plead guilty. Fortunately, deep down inside I knew how awful, how unnatural everything appeared. Junior and senior years of college were no picnic for me. I ended up putting a lot of stock in how I looked, and how much people liked me. Stupid, I know but that's growing up, kids. I wanted to do everything possible to fit into this mold others built for me, this quirky pixie girl who ate like a bird and had a ridiculous sense of style. They thought me a magician: give Jojo a shitty piece of clothing and she'll wear it like it's Givenchy. It became a game of Truth or Dare between Me and Them, with me telling all the lies but completing every challenge. At the time, I was dating someone at the who (now that I can view it retrospectively) really didn't like me; he liked that I was so complacent. He liked that I tried so hard to become his dream girl, a surly model who just stepped out of a Urban Outfitters or Free People catalog and had Emma Stone gravely voice. I wore stupid, silly, and downright ugly things because I felt I had to.
          Fortunately, like old clothes, one can outgrow bad habits, negative thoughts, and horrible people. I look back on photos from those years and think, "Why did I spend good money and precious time on that outfit? I look like I don't care, like I'm homeless and this ugly animal face shirt is the only thing I have to my name." It makes me sad but what's worse is that people are still wearing this junk. And they're not wearing it in a I-love-flying-unicorns-and-that-is-why-I-have-three-of-them-soaring-across-my-pectoral-muscles kind of way. No, no. They are wearing these things because they're the ugliest, because it'll receive attention. Because it's hip.
          Since when did dressing like you just stepped out of an American Apparel dumpster become a thing? Why is everyone so gaga for garbage nowadays? It would be different if any of these pieces actually fit the person; normally, these shirts, hats, pants, what have you are enormous. It would also be another thing if these pieces (albeit mammoth in size) were flattering colors/patterns/materials. But alas, this rarely happens. Some believe that neon cheetahs wearing crucifixes is a proper graphic to wear, especially on spandex. If my sarcasm hasn't hit you, let me be blunt. That shit looks awful and makes you look stupid. 
           I'll try and reign my sass in for the rest of the post but seriously, when did this all start? When did the Hipster Movement transform from flannel-wearing, artisan-coffee-drinking, bike-riding, Fleet Foxes fans into this strange blend of stunner shades, flower crowns, pouty profile pictures, piling sweaters, and #hashtags? When did the modest, artsy/environmental style become so superficial and hideous? Hipsters seem to have their own reasons for donning Member's Only jackets and thrift store mom jeans: they just don't not care what you think about them. Obviously. They are saviors of the discarded items, adopting things that no one else wants, to prove to others an elevated sense of taste. Obviously. In the case of wearing ugly things, Hipsters put them on like armor, as of to say, "Yeah. My shirt has glow-in-the-dark french fries on it. What's it to you? Come at me, bro!" Now, I'm all for self expression. I've said it a million and one times. Honest and true, I knew a kid who loved ugly clothing, genuinely and unconditionally loved them. Screen prints of woodland creatures and camo cargo pants were his thing. So if it's your jam, rock out super star. No one's stopping you, not even me. However, if you're throwing on that Aztec print button down shirt just show people will notice, then we have a situation on our hands.
          In a way, I believe the overuse of ugly items is degrading in a similar way to the overuse of club wear. For example, if one sees a lovely girl dressed in a teenie weenie cocktail dress, five inch heels, hair teased out to there, and the entire Sephora store on her face, the assumption might be made that she's a slut to some degree. I only use that term to illustrate a point: this girl could be a church-going, Harvard graduate who has just been influenced by too much reality and gossip magazines. She thinks this is what attractive looks like, this is what she has to wear to make an impact. In a similar way, what has recently been deemed as "cool," as "hip?" Ugly clothes. Weird prints. Ill-fitting cuts. Unfortunately, since Hipsters have gotten such a bad rep as of lately, wearing items like this can have backlash. Instead of people seeing you as cool, they see you as pompous, cynical, and stuck up. They peg you as someone who makes her own kombucha and has an Etsy shop dedicated to driftwood bird sanctuaries. You become a stereotype, and a badly perceived on at that.
          Now, I'm pretty sure some of you are offended at my casual tossing about of the term "hipster." Again, you might even be scrolling through my Facebook, my Tumblr, mouth agape, thinking, "Are you kidding me?? Look at yourself! Look at your reblogs! Look at all those goddamn Peter Pan collars! You, Miss Know-It-All are in denial of your own hipsterdom! Embrace the kitten couture!" I get this a lot. Yes, I have engaged in a lot of incriminating behavior. I listen to She & Him. I drink too much craft beer. I bake strange flavored cupcakes. I'm trying to be a volunteer at Firefly. I work at a yoga studio. I'm diligently working on my vinyl collection. I rollerskate. I understand the confusion. But I think the difference between "hip" and "hipster" is all in the intention. In my experience, Hipsters are generally surly and/or overly enthusiastic about things. They do things purely for show, to become a spectacle. They do things for the Instagram likes. To me, this is more sad than annoying. Think about it: who are these people, really? What are they like beyond the picture? Why do they do the things they do, and what happens when people become disinterested? I never look at a Hipster and think, "Yes. I want to have a conversation with you." If we did talk, I'd more than likely just ask her where she got her shoes.
          Having hip tastes doesn't necessarily mean you are a Hipster, kind of like how every square is a rectangle but not every rectangle is a square. The difference is you actually like what you're doing/wearing/listening to. You find Zooey Deschanel's voice hauntingly beautiful. You don't have a Driver's License so you pretty much have to ride that fixie. You honestly prefer cats to all other form of life. If you honestly love it, do it. Be it. There are no cares in the world you should be willing to give. But tread carefully, my favorites. It's a slippery slope. Once you start liking the cool kid things, you start getting the cool kid's attention. As a lover of the occasional Goodwill sweater and the obscure Forever XXI jumpsuit, I have a lot of practice in balancing my look. I pass along this list of tidbits to prevent you from committing sartorial suicide. There's a difference between street style and street rat.

1.) Mix it up. Things are best in moderation, hip pieces being no exception. If you're going to wear those floral harem pants, pair them with a simple white v-neck, or even a solid cowl neck top. Those boots that appear to be cloven hooves look fabulous at the ends of skinny jeans.  A fringed crop top and a high waisted skirt looks fashion forward without being too freaky. If you're worried your outfit is too hip, look at yourself in the mirror and think, "Am I wearing one piece Tim Gunn would call classic?" If not, make the necessary adjustments.

2.) Consider material and fit. I am the proud owner of this gigantic, rainbow striped sweater. This thing consumes me, long enough on my little frame to double as a dress. While normally, this could be seen as a Fashion Don't, it's made out of this amazing cotton yarn that lies flat and smooth. The pigments in the fiber remain vibrant after every wash. It looks good for a gigantic rainbow striped sweater. Similarly, I have this tissue-thin, baby pink gauzy fairy dress. It's only weather-appropriate on that one sweltering day in July but the dress' fit is incredible. Shapeless on the hanger, it drapes over my body as gently as a falling cherry blossom, making me look ethereal. With ridiculous pieces, look for materials that make you feel good and cuts that make you look even better. These factors help balance out the extreme nature.

3.) Consider your motive. Do you really love what you're wearing? Does it make you feel like a better version of yourself? What would your best friend/significant other/mother think about this strange piece? Is this just for a picture, an occasion? Is this a costume? Are you hiding? Do some serious soul searching because, like it or not, an outfit is the first thing people see. Make it a reflection of your inner awesomeness.

4.) Prepare ye the hate parade. People are going to think you're weird. People are going to think you're wearing that for attention. People might even write rude things on your Wall. The important thing is you stick to your guns, baby cakes. If you really love it, that's all that matters. It's your body and your personal expression. A week from now, you may hate those heart-shaped Lana Del Ray Bans. You might look at a picture of you wearing them and think yuck. But for that moment, love what you love. Confidence really is the best accessory, one size fitting all.