So there I was, at yet another Bank Negara Malaysia (BNM) event, just a day after our first monetary policy committee (MPC) meeting of the year, when an investment bank CEO, dressed to the nines, pulled me aside for a chat.
Oddly enough, he was the only person at the event wearing a tie.
Even the BNM officers had ditched theirs.
I recognised him immediately.
He’d emailed me earlier about my business column, “The slow death of Net Zero”, calling it “radical math (med)” and admitting it had prompted his bankers to rethink their financial models based on my figures.
Word on the street was that even oil and gas analysts were recalibrating their positions.
Then, there was the ongoing Malaysia Airports Holdings Bhd (MAHB) privatisation deal.
Comments from an “unnamed foreign bank analyst” had been making the rounds in the mainstream news and he seemed convinced it was me — something about how those stealthy figures screamed a classic ‘Goldman move.’
I didn’t confirm or deny it, of course.
It could be taken as a compliment or a red flag depending on who’s asking.
But that wasn’t why he’d cornered me.
He had something else on his mind.
It was about ties or rather, the lack of them.
I merely nodded, dumbfounded, feeling slightly out of place in my turtleneck and blazer.
Still, I couldn’t help but agree with what this “new normal” in workplace attire seemed to imply.
Acceptable workplace wear used to be a hot topic, with a woman in Kota Baru, Kelantan was fined by the city council for wearing shorts while at work in a clothing store.
This begs the question: What exactly is appropriate business wear these days?
What constitutes workplace dress codes has clearly been undergoing a revolution.
Even the Prime Minister is skipping the tie these days, and many in his Cabinet are following suit (pun intended).
Indeed, studies show that people prefer to dress comfortably, with the trend leaning towards casual wear since the 2000s – a preference that only accelerated during the COVID-19 pandemic.
In part, I lay the responsibility for the trend of tech and banking industry leaders like David Solomon, Jamie Dimon, Jensen Huang, Bill Gates, Elon Musk, Mark Zuckerberg, Sam Altman and the late Steve Jobs.
Instead of restrictive suits and ties, they preferred a more casual look: solid colours, casual T-shirts or turtlenecks, and jeans.
Yes, they will put on more formal wear on occasion, but they’re better known fashion-wise for once being anti-corporate, which eventually turned into the norm.
As for myself, I’ve gone from wearing crisp white consultant shirts and dark suits to a much more casual vibe.
But I’ll be honest, the lack of a clear-cut dress code can lead to some confusion.
When I do find myself underdressed at a formal function, I try to project an “eccentric Goldman Sachs banker” aura to compensate for it.
What emerged in the 2020s is the concept of “business comfort”, which strikes a balance between a formal style and the need for physical ease.
A study by personal styling service Stitch Fix reveals that comfort is a top priority for people returning to in-person workplaces, with 71 per cent of employees reporting that achieving this balance is more important now than before the pandemic.
Almost one-third (31 per cent) would rather take a 10 per cent pay cut than dress up for work every day.
However, despite this shift towards more casual wear, the power-distance dynamics in Malaysia remain firmly in place.
The ambiguous nature of “business casual” means that many employees, particularly junior staff, still feel the need to hold onto their ties just in case.
So for all of us still unsure of what to wear, what exactly is “decent” attire?
This was what the woman in Kota Baru was fined for not wearing, but I suspect there is no real consensus yet.
This difficulty is compounded by a lack of agreement on how to translate this “business comfort” philosophy into reality, especially when the rules don’t seem to be the same for everyone.
One study by a Columbia University mathematician has shown that while male professors are seen to be more credible when dressed formally, female professors experience more positive perceptions when dressed casually.
For some, dressing casually on purpose sends a message of success, confidence or non-conformity.
I used to wear a three-piece suit on casual Friday just because, but if you push it too far you risk looking clueless instead of chic.
What it does mean is that we will eventually settle on some middle ground on the dress code, and because the future of work seems to be hybrid, I think that clothes will similarly straddle the line between work and leisure.
Organisations will foster a more inclusive environment for employee comfort and expression, while still maintaining a sense of professionalism.
Ultimately, whether it is as a sharp-dressed man, or turning up dressed just the way you are, perhaps we should remind ourselves that while ties and formal suits make a firm first impression, they do not define our capabilities.
And I can certainly confirm that once people get to know what you can do, how you dress is less important – even the Prime Minister can wear slippers to the office.
As for the lady in Kota Baru, I have some sympathy for her.
The municipality by-laws do say that businesses need to make sure that their workers are decently dressed (“memakai pakaian sopan”), and there is some subjectivity whether shorts are decent or not (especially if the shirt is longer than the shorts as seen in the photos shared by the Kota Baru council on its Facebook page).
But I would also like to think she would have been able to find something more to the authority’s liking to wear, given that she was working in a clothing store.
I put it to you that “decent” attire should be an adaptable, flexible concept that encourages individual expression while being socially acceptable, and that it is a line that needs to be found, not imposed strictly, with or without tie, or in slacks or shorts.
Although when it comes to attending government meetings or conferences, I’ll have my tie ready in my blazer pocket – just in case.
The views expressed here are those of the columnist and do not necessarily represent the views of Sarawak Tribune.
