dressing for the job: a self-examination.

{outfit found here} 

You know that saying, "Dress for the job you want, not the job you have"?

When I was in high school and college, I had visions of being this high-powered magazine editor, hailing cabs and tracking down sources, always dressed in some fabulous ensemble that inevitably included a black blazer and some killer heels.

Then I graduated, got married, and moved back to my hometown. I got a job working communications at a non-profit, where people innocently wore capri pants and flip flops on a regular basis. 

I was determined to dress my best anyway. I gave up wearing suits -- which, if I'm being honest, never felt like me anyway -- and tried to just dress professionally. Nice tops, slacks, skirts. Those words, "dress for the job you want," floated through my head, and every time our public relations rep would visit our office, I'd make a point to see what she was wearing. If I wanted to remain in the non-profit world, I knew I'd need to go the public relations route (even if just the term public relations was a dirty word in my college journalism classes), and I figured modeling myself after a PR professional was the best way to make that happen.

My time in non-profit communications, though, didn't last long. I was hungry for more journalism experience, and despite the lessons that first position taught me, I knew it was time to move on.

I took a job at a local legal news publication, and I discovered: Journalists dress no better than non-profit employees.

What I mean is, unless a story requires a trip to the courthouse or a senate hearing, suits are out. Professional comfort is key.

Don't get me wrong; there is a dress code, and all of my coworkers dress professionally.

I just don't happen to dress very much like them.

Which is why, yesterday, when I donned boots and tights, khaki dress and floral sweater, I realized something. 

I dress for the job I want, and I want to be an art teacher.

More accurately, I want to be an "education coordinator for after-school creative writing."

Is that too specific?

That's probably because I've been dreaming about it since 2009, when I came across this position description in my daily web wanderings. 

Despite all my efforts to pursue a corporate life, I am decidedly uncorporate. I can't help it. Black suits just aren't my thing. 

A few weeks ago, while traveling for business, someone asked me what my dream job was. It's a question I hadn't been asked in a long time, maybe because I'm finally, really, truly getting older, and no one asks that question anymore because they know what you know: That you've settled into a job that will pay the bills.

My job, gratefully, though, does more than that. It keeps my brain sharp, allows me to go home to my husband and discuss legal jargon and the U.S. court system. It has me researching and writing, using a hard-earned degree that so many of my fellow journalism grads aren't getting to use at all. 

But it is not my dream job. And as I sat there, speechless, trying to answer this guy's innocent question, words came out that I knew just weren't true. 

"I'd love to write for a magazine one day," I said. "I'd love to write for a lifestyle or home publication, like Southern Living."

That answer? False. I've been there, done that, and every day was painful because I felt like I was writing fluff. I was writing stuff that, when it it boiled down to it, just didn't matter.

So the answer that came out of my mouth that night wasn't entirely accurate. Sure, I'd like to write for a magazine one day. Ideally, I think that might be the next step in my "career." But I don't really want to write for a lifestyle publication. I'd like to write words that make a difference.

The truth is, my dream job changes on a fairly regular basis. I want to be a high school English teacher or a short story writer or an advocate for teen girls or magazine editor or a bookstore owner or a creative writing tutor. I want to pursue words, and I want to pursue them creatively. I'm not sure what that looks like, professionally-speaking, but I know I'm not quite there yet.

Turns out that picking out your outfit for the day can lead to all kinds of self-examination. Or at least that's the way it is with me.

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So what's your dream job? What job do you "dress for"?

Am I the only one that analyzes about this kind of thing?