Death of the suit
The classic business suit is powerful, sharp, crisp, and coordinated. It’s also pretentious, boring, and as full of shit as the person who wears it.
Why and who decided that the suit was going to be the uniform of Adam and Eve office worker and every fat-cat in the free-world? The suit, or more specifically, the rare fabric, well-tailored, expensive cut, power suit is a tool of the elite to create further divide between them and their minions. It is the uniform of the old guard, and I argue that the suit is a sign of weakness, not strength, and that the finer the suit, the more the more inept, confused and conflicted the suitor.
What hideth thee behind thine robes, fair Suitor? Hideth thee the like behind thine eyes?
Call it the misguided rebellion of the Millennial (though many of my counterparts have sold out for epithet and stipend), call it jealousy of a 6-figure lifestyle (of which, I have none), or just call it disgruntled exasperation that an extreme few suits hang well on my body (maybe). I’ll admit, the distrust and distaste that I have acquired for The Suit stems from the television of my youth. The bad guy always wears a good suit. But the more prolific my rolodex in the business arena, and the more first-hand exposure I suffer, the more I realize that the comic books and movies aren’t so much fiction as fact.
The Suit is the boss, and yet, The Suit is a slave to the dollar. Pride, passion, prowess, and principles can all be bought from The Suit if the price is right (every Suit has its price).
The world would be a better place if all business, politics and pomp and circumstance was conducted in paper bags and potatoe sacs (like all science would be best conducted in a vacuum). But there is a telling and definitive shift in the workplace. There is a gradual retiring of the cubicle and corner office in favour of casual and communal. Do I believe the suit will vanish with the change of the tides? No. That is a fool-hardy conviction; there will always be Suits and so there will always be suits. But in a world (perhaps my own) stepping slowly but intentionally into buckets of equality, responsibility and mindfulness, I do hold out hope for naked intentions…or at least the earnestness of khakis and a sport-coat.