Today I was informed by the 85-year-old chairman of the board via our CFO (because who needs Human Resources when you have an accounting department, amirite?) that I was (have been) “showing too much cleavage.” It was extremely embarrassing and it made me incredibly uncomfortable to discuss this with someone so distinctly outside of my generational cohort. I’m a 36C, I try to keep ‘em in line but it’s not always possible. Ever since I perused a book by the British What Not To Wear a couple of years ago ladies I realized that high-cut tops make my boobs look bigger than they actually are instead of making me look like a nice modest young lady. Thus, I wear what I consider medium-ish cut tops (around 1 inch of cleavage, if only because most clothes aren’t designed with C-cups in mind) because that is what I feel comfortable wearing and I find that to be important to me, feeling comfortable in my clothes in all circumstances.
Not anymore, though. I have some ways to get around this without blowing money on more clothes for work; scarves to cover ‘em up and a handful of higher-cut tops that don’t make me feel like I’ve been hanging giant water balloons around my neck. I’m pretty sure that I will ever again feel really comfortable in my current workplace knowing #1 that I have been objectified and #2 that this certainly came from a place of judgement.
I talked to my boyfriend about it when we got home from work and his first response at my being skeeved out because an old man checked me out (to the extent that he had to be checking me out to determine that I was showing too much cleavage) was, “You honestly don’t think old dudes check you out?” Which I guess I just didn’t think about it. I’m sure it happens, but if no one brings it up, I’m not thinking about how the old men in the office will look at me when I get dressed in the morning (I certainly don’t think it’s even my responsibility to be thinking about that in the morning; shouldn’t I dress to please myself and feel comfortable in my skin?). And I don’t think I dress particularly provocatively; I try to look nice for work, just to make a good impression and hopefully hold on to some semblance of a personal style. I don’t do that whole “dress for the job you want, not for the job you have” in my current field because this is what I’m doing for now, not something I want to do for more than a few years. I’m just trying to get through the day because I need a paycheck and this job provides me with one.
I guess I didn’t realize that not only do my boobs prevent me from wearing clothes that I want, they also necessarily prevent me from wearing what I do without causing issues in the workplace. So now, on top of the anxiety of an in-between-ish wardrobe that I need to lose a few pounds to feel comfortable in because I don’t want to go out and spend money on all-new clothes, I also need to worry about whether or not my breasts are under control. Because the 85-year-old man who walks through our department when he’s hungry or in need of shitty coffee has a problem with what I wear.
The judgmental implication, I think, comes whenever a man with paternalistic posturing (that’s the attitude the older men in out office tend to have) says something like this. One of my (female) coworkers that the whole thing is bullshit, but as soon as I got back to my desk and contemplated asking for a nearby opinion on the matter, I felt ashamed of potentially being That Girl who goes around showing too much cleavage and is putting some kind of impression out there because of said cleavage. I’m just trying to get through the day at a job that I feel moderately OK with (and sometimes morally repulsed by) because I can’t seem to find anything better and now I also have to worry about making sure that the old dudes I work with don’t think I’m a slut (which is the implication of needing to be told that you’re showing too much cleavage).
I know this is not my best writing and I know that it doesn’t necessarily make sense, but I’m really upset about this and needed to get that out somehow.
This is me trying to have a positive attitude about the absurdity of this situation.
