How work works

To all of you who have jobs, this might sound like one big old “duh.”

But I haven’t worked outside of my house for a long time.

And I realized, as I was getting ready for my first day, that I’d forgotten all the basics.

Like, you have to get to a place on time. And they will expect you to keep going there. And you have to do stuff. And you have to think about things like lunch and snacks and where the bathroom is and what to say when the phone rings, if it’s your job to pick it up at all.

And you have to choose different outfits every day, at least ones that are somewhat coordinated and look like you’re going somewhere respectable and not to the gym or the doctor’s office or to Wal-Mart.

And it can’t be the same thing you’ve been wearing around the house for the last three days, even if it’s really comfortable and doesn’t smell too bad yet.

It depends upon your line of work, of course. Strippers can’t be expected to wear Ann Taylor suits (unless they’re playing Naughty Executive that day), but heels are definitely mandatory. And for guys who will be climbing the electric lines to fix the transformers, something comfortable and non-conductive would probably be best. Plus, you wouldn’t want anyone looking up your skirt and inviting all sorts of sexual harassment suits.

My mother used to tell me that the best “thermometer” of expected corporate dress is to see what everyone else is wearing, paying particular attention to your boss. And while my new boss doesn’t exactly look like she’s off to a Grateful Dead concert, she isn’t in buttoned-up corporate black and matching pumps like my former boss. She’s somewhere in the middle. She looks nice, and approachable, and recently showered. Which is always good in a person who goes out to meeting and tries to pitch new business.

So I, who will probably only be contacting clients via phone or e-mail, opt for sneakers. The same knit pants I wear everywhere (I’m into easy shopping these days: go on the Lands End web site and order the same thing in six colors), a clean top, another Lands End favorite, a casual sort of jacket with removable shoulderpads (depending on if I’m into power or not that day, or expect to be drafted for the Giants training camp). A couple of pieces of jewelry. And, if I have that extra burst of energy, a little makeup.

This way I’m ready for all occasions. A lunchtime walk. Stretching on my exercise mat afterwards. Navigating the scary basement stairs to the restroom. I should probably keep a nicer pair of shoes in my desk drawer in case I’m called upon to go somewhere where such things are important, but we’ll see how it goes.

I’d also forgotten about Corporate Culture. That each company has its particular “personality.” Like, do people eat lunch together? Or only certain people? Do your colleagues leave their office doors open? Actually get up and go ask questions in person or e-mail them instead? Is the boss infinitely interruptible or do you have to go through an intermediary? Is everyone out the door on time or would you feel like some kind of slacker slinking out at five? Can I play the radio? Swear at the computer? Put a Gumby on my desk? That sort of thing.

I was getting a good grok about that my first day. The boss brings her dogs to work and lets people eat lunch at the conference table in her office. Check “no” on the formal atmosphere. I never saw a closed door. Everybody just comes and gets you when they have a question. Or sometimes they just yell back and forth (it’s a small office).

And the Gumby (and maybe even a penguin) would probably be welcome.

No one has said anything about my sneakers, so I’ll probably just keep wearing them until someone tells me otherwise. And I need to go for a walk and a stretch at lunch, so if they think I’m a big giant snob for not getting takeout and eating with them, so be it.

I’ll just leave the giant stained sweatshirt at home, though.