From school corridors to office lobbies, the phrase “appropriate attire” floats through the air like a quiet rule everyone is meant to understand. It lands hardest on women’s shoulders. It shows up in emails, dress codes, whispered comments, and those little notices taped to doors that pretend they’re about safety. They’re not.
At 8.32 on a rainy Tuesday, a young woman stands outside a city bank with a plastic bag and wet hair, the kind of morning that already stings. A security guard has just told her she can’t come in until she “fixes her outfit” because her blouse is “too sheer”, even though she’s wearing a vest under it; he won’t look her in the eye, and everyone else pretends not to see. She calls a friend, laughs, then swallows it, and walks to a chemist to buy a cardigan she doesn’t want. She returns, a little smaller, a little angrier. The day hasn’t even started.
Who gets to say what’s ‘appropriate’?
The phrase sounds harmless, but it’s almost always a code for control — and control dresses itself as common sense. In mixed offices, a sleeveless top on a woman draws comments while a short-sleeved shirt on a man is invisible, and that tells you everything. **We mistake discomfort imposed on women for standards, and then pretend it’s neutral.**
In London, a temp worker was once sent home for refusing to wear high heels, a story that ricocheted across the country because so many women recognised it as their own. In classrooms, letters home still police hems and bra straps in the name of “avoiding distraction”, which shifts the gaze without shifting the gaze. We’ve all learned the choreography: carry a cardigan, learn the rules you didn’t write, apologise for taking up visual space.
Strip it back and “appropriate” isn’t about fabric; it’s about who is required to carry the burden of other people’s reactions. A workplace needs competence, clarity and safety, not moral judgments stitched into necklines, and there’s no credible evidence that a woman’s sleeves change her performance metrics or her ethics. **Dignity does not rise or fall with a hemline.**
Dress for your life, not for their gaze
Here’s a simple method that saves time and energy: Function, Fit, Feeling. Start with function — what are you doing, for how long, and in what weather or environment, because a biotech lab and a courthouse and a nursery run are different worlds. Move to fit — does this garment let you breathe, move, sit and stand without fuss, because clothes that fight your body will fight your day. Then feeling — do you feel like yourself, alert and grounded, because feeling false bleeds energy. That’s your north star.
Biggest trap? Second-guessing strangers in your head until your wardrobe looks like a costume rail for someone else’s life. We’ve all had that moment when a voice says, “Maybe take the jacket in case someone says something,” and then you carry the jacket and the voice all day. Let the room adjust to you, not the other way round. *Getting dressed is not consent.*
Let’s be honest: nobody really does that every day. You’ll have mornings of compromise, but you can still claim a baseline: no self-shame, no dressing for an imaginary tribunal, no apologising with a cardigan. When someone tells you your outfit is “inappropriate”, ask which practical standard is at stake — safety, uniform, brand outline — and if the answer is a vibe, that is not a standard. **Clothes are not a code of conduct.**
“Appropriate for whom, and at whose cost?” a Manchester stylist told me. “That’s the only question I ask before we even look at a rail.”
- Phrase to use at work: “Happy to follow any written policy — could you point me to it?”
- Personal anchor: Function, Fit, Feeling — three checks, ninety seconds.
- Boundary line: Comments about bodies are out; questions about tasks are in.
- Backup plan: Keep one outfit that makes you feel unshakeable. Wear it when noise rises.
Beyond the dress code: the culture that follows
When we police women’s clothing, we teach boys and men that women’s bodies are public homework and that women must do the emotional admin of everyone else’s comfort. The result isn’t professionalism; it’s a quieter office and a louder fear of stepping wrong, which is a tax on ambition. That tax falls early — in school, in first jobs, in the awkward years when a jacket can feel like armour.
There’s another way: a culture that names what it needs — safety gear, cleanliness, clarity — without smuggling in judgement. That culture starts small, in teams that stop the micro-commentary and in managers who ask outcomes, not outfits. It grows when we back the colleague who gets pulled aside, when we write policies in plain language, and when we stop using the word “appropriate” like a spell. **Freedom looks very ordinary up close.**
If you’re raised on “tenue correcte exigée”, unlearning it won’t be tidy. Some days you’ll revert and some days you’ll roar, and both count. You’ll watch a teenager lift her chin in a denim jacket and a grandmother wear red lipstick to the post office, and you’ll notice the air change, then change again. You’ll realise the future isn’t a fight over necklines, it’s a quiet refusal to confuse “polite” with “policing”, and a gentler promise to dress for the life you’re living, not the eyes that pass by it.
| Point clé | Détail | Intérêt pour le lecteur |
|---|---|---|
| Who defines “appropriate” | It often masks control and double standards | Name the pattern, stop internalising it |
| Function, Fit, Feeling | Three-step method to choose what to wear | Quicker decisions, less anxiety, more comfort |
| Push back with clarity | Ask for written policy and practical reasons | Shifts the burden from your body to the rule |
FAQ :
- Are dress codes legal in the UK?Yes, if they’re reasonable, job-related and applied evenly across genders; they can’t demand different standards of presentation for women and men.
- What if my school enforces skirt length or bans certain tops?Request the written policy, ask how it supports learning and safety, and raise concerns with pastoral staff or governors if enforcement targets girls disproportionately.
- How can I respond on the spot to a comment about my outfit?Try, “Is there a specific policy you’re referring to?” or “Let’s focus on the work,” which keeps the boundary clear without escalating.
- What should I wear for an interview without playing it painfully safe?Use Function, Fit, Feeling: dress for the role’s tasks and climate, pick a comfortable fit, and add one element that feels like you so your confidence shows.
- Could challenging a dress code hurt my career?It depends on the culture, which is the point; keep receipts, be polite but firm, and remember that changing norms often starts with one measured question.



Merci pour cet article, le trio Function, Fit, Feeling va direct sur mon frigo. “Les vêtements ne sont pas un code de conduite” — je vais le citer au bureau, ca change l’angle.