Let me get something out there. I was grabbing drinks earlier this week (and breaking my New Year's resolution four days into 2017) with another woman in tech, when the topic of dressing for success came up. My wine companion mentioned that one female entrepreneur was taught how to cover up her chest so men would listen to her while she pitched.
This wasn't the first time I've had this discussion with someone. I've had numerous female friends also working in tech tell me that they deliberately pick their outfits for work events or meetings so they “blend in” and don’t “draw men’s attention” to the fact that they’re women. Tips I've heard include: You shouldn’t wear bright colors; anything form-fitting is a no-no; you should never wear your hair down; and if you show skin below your collarbone, you might as well be a wounded gazelle among ravenous lions.
All of these self-imposed rules have been made, they tell me, because they believe it will have men take them seriously. To which, I say, fuck that.
This isn’t Mulan, that Disney movie where a young woman pretends to be a guy so she can fight in the Imperial Army. You don’t have to cram yourself into a dull gray pantsuit and convince men you don’t have boobs to establish yourself as a powerhouse. And I’m tired of hearing women passing along this advice as if it were gospel.
I recognize there are certain people in tech who are just plain jerks and treat you like shit because they want to. No one’s ever going to change that. But for whom are you doing any favors by bending to their whim and altering what you wear? Hint, it's not you.
This isn’t Mulan.
I’ve been playing in the male sandbox since the start of my career. During my 17-month-long tenure at BostInno, I’ve been the only full-time female writer on staff. Before this, I worked in enterprise software sales, dealing primarily with CFOs of tech companies. You can bet that no matter what I have in my work schedule - a 1:1 with my manager, a sit-down interview with an investor, a networking event with execs - I wear whatever makes me feel like a badass.
Sometimes, I stay true to techie stereotypes and wear jeans with a flannel. But I’ve also walked into a crowd of HBS suits in a firetruck red dress, attended a VC party in a leather jacket and judged a pitch contest in knee-high boots. And guess what? No one’s ever commented, made faces or dismissed me for my clothing choices. I’ve never been treated differently than my male coworkers. And my career didn’t end because I decided to flaunt my hourglass figure with that super cute belt I bought.
If you don’t care what I wear, just look at a few leading ladies in the Boston tech scene: This summer, Diane Hessan strolled onto the stage at our State of Innovation in a black leather top; Melissa James was rocking an LBD at 50 on Fire this year; and Sarah Downey always looks like she’s the heroine of a video game.
It's not easy, especially for early-stage entrepreneurs. I’m not a founder fighting to get funding, nor have I ever been. I understand that's a tough game and, in some cases, I've heard female entrepreneurs say they'd do anything to keep their ventures - their babies - afloat.
Altering your appearance might get you the money you need. But keep in mind that investors become partners. You’re selling them a stake in your company, and they don’t just disappear once the check is cashed.
So if you’re hiding your body, taking off your engagement ring or covering up a baby bump so an investor - male or female - will listen to the words coming out of your mouth, is that really the person you want to own a part of your startup? Are you going to adjust the way you look every time you have to run to a meeting with them in the future?
The right investors, business partners, mentors, advisors and employees will want to hear what you have to say, and believe in what you’re doing regardless of how you look. We need to learn to take names in whatever makes us feel like the best version of ourselves. We need to stop being concerned about what men will think of us. And, most importantly, we need to hold off on telling other women what’s best for them.
