Fashion in the workplace is a tightrope act balancing beauty,
utility and propriety. The dilemma begins at the start of
each day: Can I ride my bike in this skirt? Will I overheat
on the No. 4 bus if I wear a coat? Is this the right ensemble
to get me through the day and after-work engagements? Just
how casual is Casual Friday?
These are the questions that have often left me craving
a simple uniform, a functional jumper perhaps--with reflective
zippers, a detachable belt and plenty of pockets to house
my gear: paper clips, lip balm, chewing gum, headphones,
pens. Think of the simplicity that only those enviable parochial
school girls--who looked fresh and natty in kilts and white
blouses every day--knew. Ah, the peace of mind that comes
with never having to worry about what to wear.
In these progressive times, even St. Mary's has done away
with uniforms. But there will always be stalwart businesses
that require symmetrical dress. Those of us who have the
freedom to choose, to express ourselves via accouterment,
tend to romanticize the notion of prescribed clothing. We
went to the uniformed workers to see how it really feels.
1. HOT DOG ON A STICK
You can't wade through the Pioneer Place food court
without getting an eyeful of these Calder-esque jobs. You
might scoff, but the brave kids aren't as embarrassed as
you'd think. "We get comments daily," says Becky, the manager
at Hot Dog on a Stick, "like four or five a shift: 'They're
so bright, don't you hate them? Didn't the hats used to
have propellers on them?'" But what else could you possibly
wear while bounding around a food court on a pogo-stick
but hot-dog couture such as this? The red, blue and yellow
stripes are as clean and modern as a Mondrian grid. The
men's uniform makes great use of the horizontal stripe (a
man's stripe if I ever saw one), while the zippy vertical
lines on the women's kits project a touched kind of whimsy.
Oddly flattering, these kaleidoscopic, primary-colored outfits
would rule the runway at a Federico Fellini fashion show.
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2. SEE'S CANDIES
"If Mary See wouldn't wear it, we don't wear it," Corrina,
one of the lead clerks at See's Candies on Southwest Morrison
Street explained. (Read: No red nail polish, and just one
earring per ear, please.) All who've entered this charming
candy shop may have suspected that the cotton-poly uniform
hasn't changed much since 1921, when a young pharmacist,
armed with his mother Mary's candy recipes, opened the first
See's shop in Pasadena, Calif. (Mary's cameo still graces
most of the art-deco black-and-white packaging.) The classic
white smock paired with nude hose represents the continuing
quality and tradition of See's. A reproduction of the packing-line
dress worn in factories earlier this century, today's uniform
(like the old one) "is difficult to wear while unpacking
freight," Corrina admits. "We go through a lot of nylons."
These contemporary Florence Nightingales of chocolate are
often mistaken for nurses. "But come on," Corrina says.
"When was the last time you saw a nurse dressed like this?"
Though no altering of the uniform is allowed, Corrina and
her co-workers match their uniforms with black or white
Grandma-style cardigans from Value Village.
3. COFFEE PEOPLE
At the Coffee People on Southwest Salmon Street, a subtle
yet detectable pattern is at play, one as unpredictable
as the effects of caffeine itself. Employees here and at
other neighborhood CP clinics wear variations on the basic
plaid shirt, which they may pair freely with solid pants,
shorts or skirts. Plaid, of course, is the tartan of our
great region, the fabric of Stuart Holbrooke's Northwest.
Plaid--Pendleton wool shirts in particular--remind us of
our history as a logging town, before old-growth forests
were replaced by a silicon forest. The look may have had
its 15 minutes on New York runways a few years ago, but
in Portland, it appears, flannel's here to stay, so don't
expect the baristas to be sporting any cybergear any time
soon. As Jay, a manager at Salmon Street, explains, this
low-key Northwesty policy "enables people to have a little
freedom within the constraints of plaid."
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4. RHEINLANDER GERMAN RESTAURANT AND GUSTAV'S BEER STUBE
In high school, all the theater types worked at the
Rheinlander (5035 NE Sandy Blvd.) so they could practice
singing and, well, being theatrical in public. The men's
uniforms aren't so dramatic today. Traveling through Germany
two years ago, owners Suzeanne and Rob Mager realized that
male waiters wore bistro-style uniforms--black pants and
white button-downs. "Lederhosen were designed for hiking,"
says Suzeanne. "Although they're cute, they're not very
practical." The Magers adopted the staid bistro attire for
the guys, which is augmented by embroidered green ties imported
from the homeland. Female waiters, on the other hand, still
look like St. Pauli Girls, delivering German-Swiss sass
in resplendent dirndls. The Heidi-esqe black pinafore with
red piping is worn over a white peasant blouse, with a white
apron tied around the waist; according to Suzeanne, this
look is still popular at beautiful German inns. Mysteriously,
this complicated harness seems to work better than any Wonderbra
in giving the illusion of bustiness. We're left to wonder:
Is the Rheinlander an equal opportunity employer?
5. HEATHMAN HOTEL
This one might make you question
the old adage about a man in uniform. These festive "costumes"
(the preferred term in this case) are based on the Yeoman
Warders, better known as the Beefeaters. The warders were
the men in charge of protecting Henry VIII (from his wives?)
and guarding the Tower of London. These Beefeaters take
a turn at protecting the arts. Yet it's a bit difficult
to take them seriously in fire-engine red pantaloons and
tunics tricked out with gold trim, a Heathman-designed coat
of arms emblazoned on the chest and plastic wreathed black
bowlers on top. Head doorman Victor Fernandez says he doesn't
hear as many remarks from passersby as the other guards.
But then, the bearded, jovial doorman looks much like a
Shakespearean actor anyway. "The others get teased a bit,"
he says. It's a small price to pay, according to Hotel General
Manager Jeff Jobe. "We are the protectors of the arts--we're
also creating an icon for the city of Portland, right up
there with Portlandia and the Willamette River."
6. BCBG
If you think the sleek gals of BCBG look
similarly smooth, you're right. They wear the BCBG label
from head to toe. Marina, a manager, explained that the
women who work at the Pioneer Place boutique adhere to a
strict wardrobe diet determined by the BCBG line's seasonal
color palette. Despite the ranges of color available, it
appears that the clerks prefer black, black and black. New
employees are sold starter outfits at a discount until their
fashion engine is lubed up and running smoothly. Perhaps
they could use some holiday help?
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Willamette Week | originally
published November 23,
1999
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