Mod Scientist

I once wore boring work clothes as a cover for imposter’s syndrome: no more!

By Iris Aguilar

A few years ago I was at a conference in Portugal. As a graduate student with a full scholarship I felt extremely grateful to be there. However, the conference was dedicated to an extremely niche topic and the crowd was composed mostly of physicists, so I felt really intimidated and anxious. I remember being handed conference swag that included a daily planner with the “Women in Optics” theme. It featured several outstanding researchers with a picture and a brief summary of their work. As I was going through the pages I was struck by one of these women, not only because her research was cool, but also because she stood out with her interesting outfit and brightly colored hair. I thought that she was able to wear the interesting clothes and hairstyle that she liked because she was brilliant and celebrated in her field. But me, a student with impostor syndrome, I just had to blend into the background.

A couple of days into this conference it was time for what I dreaded the most: the poster session. This means that you stand next to a giant poster summarizing your research and wait for people to read about your work (you can see their reactions while they read) and start asking you questions. If it all goes well, you might end up with a great collaboration. If not, it can be a blow to your sense of self-worth. I was standing in front of my poster just trying to go unnoticed, because my anxious mind was convinced that I would be asked some difficult question I wouldn't be able to answer. I was sweating, my stomach hurt, and I was wearing a blouse that was too big for me and some navy slacks. This particular conference had mostly male attendees, so I intentionally did not put on much makeup or wear my hair down because I was afraid of not being taken seriously.

Pictured: Iris standing next to her research at a conference, trying to blend in and feeling slightly terrified.

Pictured: Iris standing next to her research at a conference, trying to blend in and feeling slightly terrified.

I think that I internalized the whole “scientists (or productive people) don´t care about their appearance” myth. In some fields of science there is a sort of disdain for caring too much about your appearance, so in my case, for everyday work on campus I just focused on looking presentable while complying with our laboratory safety standards. By last year I was probably wearing the same three jeans and five or six tops on repeat, or a variation of that adapted for winter. At least I’ve always been an outfit repeater.

When I had important presentations and needed to dress more formally, I would try to make sure my outfit wasn’t too showy, too form-fitting or too unprofessional, although what is deemed “professional” is entirely subjective. I remember feeling frustrated because most men in my field would just put on some dress pants and button-up shirts or blazers and call it a day. But for me? It meant not wearing anything particularly interesting and worrying about what would be considered a faux pas for an academic professional. Could I show my arms or shoulders? Should I wear heels? How high? Were my pants too form-fitting? Were my pants too frumpy? Were my clothes too colorful? Was I overdressed? The list was endless. 

Then came the pandemic and stay-at-home orders, so I wore athleisure every day. Eventually the research group where I worked lost funding and on top of that we were denied several grants, so I was furloughed. So what could I do with my free time? Like most people last year, I went through the ritual of purging my closet. After some time to reflect, I realized that I felt pretty ambivalent about most items. Then I asked myself: What would I wear if I didn't feel like an impostor?

Since I was also getting into being a more conscious consumer, I initially fell for the first thing that tends to pop up when you are looking for sustainable brands and style: bland clothes in neutral colors. For a moment I actually convinced myself that the “timeless” minimalistic style was ideal if I didn't want to shop constantly or if I wanted my things to last. However, I had to stop lying to myself and accept that (a) I found that boring, and (b) I was inadvertently taking the “going unnoticed” route.

The truth is that if you make me choose, I will pick an irreverent and colorful Fran Fine inspired outfit over an earth-tone maxi dress or the “classic white button-up shirt” I keep seeing marketed as an essential piece. So yeah, maybe, solemn, timeless and classic basics are not my thing. And that’s OK.

Pictured: Some of my favorite patterns and textures. The houndstooth blouse with color blots is vintage from the late ’80s-early ’90s. The origami-style linen halter top has been in my closet for years, and the rest are secondhand.

Pictured: Some of my favorite patterns and textures. The houndstooth blouse with color blots is vintage from the late ’80s-early ’90s. The origami-style linen halter top has been in my closet for years, and the rest are secondhand.

Here’s a breakdown of some of my likes and dislikes:

Things I Like:

Clothes: Bold prints, mostly geometric. Architectural construction. Colors. Mismatched things. Asymmetrical cuts. Color block. Sharp cuts (e.g. A-line dresses and skirts). 1960s mod, op art, or space age style. Some ’80s and ‘90s styles. High necks (e.g. mock necks). Sleeveless tops, especially cutaway or racerbacks with higher neckline. Fitted sweaters. I have no problem with open backs, showing my arms, or even wearing a plunge neckline in the case of formal dresses. Slightly cropped, straight leg jeans and pants. Natural fibers, particularly in jeans and sweaters.

Hair: I live for a blunt bob or lob but I haven’t been able to cut my hair since February 2020.

Makeup: I love wearing blush and lipstick and I’m not afraid of bright colors.

In summary: Mostly practical, close to the body shapes that make me feel comfortable, but enhanced with interesting color combinations, design elements, or prints.

Pictured: Mismatched shoes are my newfound love.

Pictured: Mismatched shoes are my newfound love.

Things I Don’t Like:

Clothes: Overly flowy things. All-neutral outfits. Sweetheart, V-neck and scoop necklines. ’50s styles that scream suburban housewife or Marylin Monroe impersonator. Romantic ’80s styles. Boho. Full skirts. Most high heels. Ruffles. Cold shoulder anything. Bell sleeves that I can’t roll up. Puff shoulders. Extremely chunky sweaters. Heavily branded things. Most early 2000s styles (teenage angst triggers anyone?). Jeggings. Flip flops. Bandage dresses. Maxi skirts. Rompers and joggers.  

Hair: Long overly made up hair, news anchor hair (you know the one).

Makeup: Mascara. Frosty lipstick. Sticky gloss.

Pictured: Me as a very angry cupcake-dress hating kid. I’ve never been a fan of poofy frilly dresses.

Pictured: Me as a very angry cupcake-dress hating kid. I’ve never been a fan of poofy frilly dresses.

In summary: Things that get in the way like bell sleeves, ruffles and maxi skirts. Anything that would be described as romantic, soft, sexy, modest, or overly trendy. Sweet is definitely not an adjective that has been used to describe my personality.

By the time I lost my job I had also lost my style mojo, so there was a lot of self reflection involved. What worked for me was to think of the styles that I always go back to and also the things that make me feel icky, uncomfortable or just not like myself. Then I went ahead and donated some things to a local organization akin to Dress For Success, and listed the rest on a reselling app. 

So far I’ve used reselling apps, Instagram and consignment shops to acquire most of my “new” interesting items. Now I know I don't have to fit another mold (i.e. the minimalist earth-conscious archetype) to be a more ethical consumer; I can always buy secondhand, swap clothes with my friends and family or support small businesses and makers.

Pictured: When I’m not opting for bright colors I’m drawn to color blocking and interesting patterns. Everything is second hand except for the skirt, which was done by a maker from my city.

Pictured: When I’m not opting for bright colors I’m drawn to color blocking and interesting patterns. Everything is second hand except for the skirt, which was done by a maker from my city.

Although I must confess that my outfit right now is head-to-toe activewear (I train four to five days a week), I've started constructing a more cohesive wardrobe that I can’t wait to explore once I'm vaccinated and out in the world again. Not all of my newly-found pieces can be worn in a lab and I still feel like an impostor sometimes, but this time off has helped me separate my identity from my career and be more unapologetic about the things I enjoy.

Editor: Phoebe Bates | Designer: Emma Geddes | Copy Editor: Katie Frankowicz | Communication/Support/Outreach: Meg Chellew & Elise Nye

 

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