‘Corpcore is a last gasp at making the working world seem winnable to women’

These words were spoken to me by a friend as we chatted on a park bench between our unpaid lunch breaks to each other, she had an hour, I had half. I’d noticed the time and after professing undying love for her which sounded something like ‘ok ok bye, I have to go, love you bye’ we went about the rest of our afternoons. 

The day finished. I got the bus home. During this, the hem of my trousers had caught in the automatic doors and left an unattractive snag around my left ankle. I thought nothing much more of it, but as I passed commuters and cars I couldn’t help but notice a kind of disappointment in myself afterwards and by my stop, it had worked itself inwards and sat with a dull, flat thud somewhere in my chest. I could almost ignore it. 

I felt bad that I’d torn my workwear. Was it my fault? No. Did I mean for it to happen? No. And yet although it had happened where no one would have noticed me, I did not look the ‘way’ I was supposed to. People saw me at my job; I was ‘corporate front of house’ and though I may have spoken with them on the phone, I felt I was letting the side down. That perhaps I should have ‘seen to it’ before they had even seen it. 

So what, it wouldn’t have affected my ability to work, and it certainly wouldn’t have earned me any more money but, in a small way I feared I would be thought of as lesser. Even if I had laughingly explained to my colleagues the situation, I would still have chosen to present myself as the ditz to forearm myself against judgement with one of my own. Another time, I’d worn a skirt and had been ‘advised’ in no uncertain terms by an older female colleague that I should keep an eye on ‘how short it gets’ as I wouldn’t want to be seen as something I was not. 

What was framed as a well-intentioned word to the wise, was in reality a heads up that I’d failed to keep my side of the deal. The mask had slipped and I was in danger of making a fool out of myself. 

After this, I retreated back into darker, conservative colours and cuts. I was quiet in my manner, in my actions and generally kept my head down. It was during this time that people started to treat me with less interest as a person but more respect as a colleague. I soon realised that I had watered my image down so that I could receive the ordinary amount of praise expected for simply doing my job. 

Perception is a funny thing. It’s entirely natural and something that is automatically applied to every person and situation in life. It takes a tenth of a second for an opinion to be formed. That’s faster than Usain Bolt and the internet. But add on top of this the perception of what certain clothes represent on the female body and we’re in for a tricky ride. Corporate women ‘power dressed’ in the eighties shoulder pads, harsher colours, longer ‘masculine’ lines  to assert themselves. Now, a ‘clean-girl aesthetic’ emphasises the need for a choreographed kind of beauty in order to be serious. 

Either way, the one thing that both of these trends do is demand time and unpaid pre-work before the day begins. Looking ‘minimalist’ requires maximum effort. Make sure you have a skin routine, a make up routine, a gym routine and a fashion sense universal but just individual enough so you can ‘stand out’ as a person and not just an employee. And if you do not conform to these standards? That’s fine, you will probably do well enough, earn enough. So what’s the harm? 

I will tell you, it’s that tiny speck of doubt that this sentence has just placed into your head. Sure, you ought to be fine, should do well, but can you be certain? And wouldn’t it be nice if there was an attainable and easily accessible step so that you could quiet that doubt? 

Enter Corpcore, the cheap method to gamify the corporate world. A sleek and uniformed style of dressing so that the doubt doesn’t need to worry you. And it’s all for the price of a couple day’s pay. 

Written by, Beatrice Bennett