Don't get me wrong, I don't want to be sloppy. I have seen some of the more eccentric workers (brilliant, on-a-different-plane scientists, I would bet money) walking around in old, dirty shorts, unkempt hair and an odor all their own, but they are by far the exception. LANL, though, has a laid back sensibility when it comes to dressing for work. If I see someone with a tie and a suit jacket, I know there are Federal or State bigwigs about or someone is getting their clearance re-investigated (the FBI is pretty formal). Business casual is pretty much de rigueur and even that depends upon which part of the Lab one finds themselves working. We have everyone from senior managers to crafts workers, scientists, and worker bees from almost every field. Myself, I am a Training geek who spends my days liaising with my customer (a group attempting to clean up the waste left here for 60+ years) and my team (people who try to provide the knowledge and skills to keep people safe and compliant). I work in a modular building a couple of miles up the road from a waste site that received lots of attention last year when a large fire was perceived as threatening to spew waste across the southwest (frankly, if fire was able to get through the concrete, distance and metal protecting that stuff, radiation would be the least of anyone's worries). Comfort is number one on my list, unless I know that I will be meeting with higher-ups.
Additionally, safety is a factor each day, especially when I consider the repercussions of wearing heels on uneven ground in rattlesnake, snow and ice territory (this year I fell on metal stairs wearing flat sandals-you get the idea). Many workers at the Laboratory are required to wear safety shoes of a certain credential or they cannot work at all. But for the most part, we are left to wear almost anything as long as it doesn't cross obvious lines of decency and practicality. The truth is that micro-minis are appropriate for a fairly narrow band of businesses, and Heelys? No. The diversity of how people dress here is also interesting; clearly I am not of the "clothes-proud" variety of woman. My bosses dress increasingly more fancy pants the further up the chain they go and I can typically tell a Group Leader from an Associate Director when I enter a room, even if I don't know the individuals. The bottom line for me has always been-"yay! I don't have to think too much about what I wear" (I sometimes wish I wore a uniform). If I were in my same position in what we lovingly call "the real world," I would likely be in heels, dresses, suits, and...oh it makes me queasy just thinking about it.
My ease has been slowly evaporating , however. Lately I find myself looking at slightly more polished attire, wearing (gasp) eye makeup more often (except when my allergies hit; I gotta draw the line somewhere) and buying AND wearing higher, slightly more sophisticated shoes (and yes, I practice in my house for a while to ensure I won't topple when I walk out the door). Have I been wondering why this small metamorphosis is taking place? Uh, yeah! The way I see it there could be several forces at work. One, I am trying to dress more for my position. As a manager, perhaps I am starting to want to stand out more positively in my environment (not overly likely, I am uninterested in going up the food chain-it seems to be a dangerous place on so many levels).This reason blends with number two, that my peers dress markedly better than I do. So, when I go to a meeting with my colleagues and my boss, perhaps I no longer wish to stand out as a college kid wannabe crashing the business world (no offense to either of the two). The second also suggests that these three other women, all of whom I admire and work well with, have had a noticeable influence on me (not a bad thing, just sayin'). Oh yes, there is another possibility as to why the shift in personal dress code: maybe, finally, I feel good in my own skin, I know my worth and accept myself for who I am? Could be, but I get a little overwhelmed thinking about it. Finally, there is the disturbing possibility that I may finally be ...gulp...accepting my role here and growing up (fashion wise that is-nobody will ever accuse me of being too emotionally mature :p).
I loathe that last possibility. For me it means that I have somehow bought into the "machine" of the business world, that I am wanting to conform and that I give a rat's patoot about what other people think. This possibility represents the final exit of my adventurous self, the rebellious spirit who never kept a job for more than five years, prided herself on NOT having a career, sailed the Caribbean and was stoked when she got waylaid in Cuba. She is gone. She has been replaced by a responsible (blechh), staid working mother and wife living in a bedroom community in a company town, with a regular paycheck and health insurance. A person who never does another daring thing, pays bills, packs Oreos in her daughter's lunch and gets excited over a well-executed cheesecake.
I know, I know-most of you are thinking, STFU you spoiled beotch. And you would be right. The truth is, with age and experience comes this unfamiliar (to me) desire for security and a sense of stability. As much as there is a part of me that would like to walk away from my job and my house and go live in a fishing village in the Yucatan, the bigger part of me gets terrified thinking that I might be forced to walk away and not have the resources to rent a beach house. Part of me wants to steal my daughter away and give her an education on the road, or sailing around the world, but another wants her to have long-term friends and a sense of place. And as much as I struggle to maintain my own distance from people, I adore the friendships I have cultivated here. So how the hell does all this relate to the clothes I wear?! It doesn't really, except that they are a symbol. A symbol of things I never thought I wanted or would ever value.
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| My BEST adventure. |
So, a little eye makeup, a little dressing up for my gig, and a little more acceptance of the (wonderful) life I have here is probably ok. Besides, it is the little adventures that excite me nowadays; watching lightning storms from the overlook with my daughter while making up stories of cloud dragons; turning off all the lights in the house and lighting candles so we all can play shadow animals against the wall; spending the day picking raspberries and ending it with a green chile cheeseburger and a postcard sunset. Dangerous? Not so much, except that it can all be taken away so quickly.
The Laboratory has had a rough few years. The economy finally caught up with a place that never thought it would see itself facing tough times or the possibility of an end. Sensationalized spy cases, mistakes and mismanagement have tarnished this once heralded site (even the professional anti-nuke protesters can't make a living from this area anymore). Budget cuts, politics and a change in values seem to have left this site wondering if it will become a national park or if it can reinvent itself to create a sustainable mission. People have lost their jobs and homes and still others wonder if they will. In short, Los Alamos has, finally, become like everywhere else. To those who see themselves as entitled to a job for life (after all they are third generation!), it has been quite a shock. For others it is a reality check that makes us wonder what we will find if forced to leave the five finger mesas. Additionally, though I have become quite accustomed to seeing armored vehicles with high-caliber weapons mounted on top, hearing and feeling explosive test shots at any given time of the day, and more trefoils and "Danger! Unexploded Explosives" signs than mailboxes, it means the possibility of facing what I have been telling myself I want for ten years-out of here. Could I take that proverbial bull by its horns and create a new and adventurous life or would I languish in my fear and let my insecurities get the best of me?
I greatly admire people who have left (voluntarily or not) long-term jobs and have been able to start over, sometimes doing something completely different, in a completely new place. It requires a flexibility and grace that I think is easy to forget as we get older. I often wonder if I will demonstrate such strong stuff. I hope so and I hope...I can wear jeans.
