For seventeen years, I wore a uniform.
There wasn’t much to think about. It was practical. Standard. The same every day.
When I moved into an office environment, clothes started to matter in a different way. Not because I wanted to make a statement. Just because I finally had the option to choose.
A couple of years before I finished work, I did a personal styling course. I wanted to understand what actually suited me instead of defaulting to what felt “office appropriate.”
I enjoyed it more than I expected.
I began incorporating what I learned into my work wardrobe. Nothing dramatic. Just colours and shapes that felt more like me.
But workplaces aren’t neutral spaces.
Two male colleagues commented on my outfits almost every day. It started as banter. Then it became constant critique. Not helpful. Not funny.
Eventually I told them to stop. Clearly.
Even after that, something shifts.
You become more aware of what you’re wearing. More aware of how you’re being read.
When I left work, I swung in the opposite direction.
T-shirts. Shorts. Comfortable pieces on repeat.
It felt like relief. No commentary. No office politics. No daily assessment.
But after a while, I realised I’d gone from one kind of uniform to another.
Now I’m finding a middle ground.
Less corporate. More casual. Still intentional.
Not dressing to avoid comments. Not dressing to impress.
Just choosing clothes because I like how I feel in them.
For years, what I wore made sense for where I was.
Now I’m just working out what makes sense for me.