The Unemployed in Winter Wear

There's is NOTHING, trust me, NOTHING worse than interviewing in winter in New York City.  Take this from a Drunk Little Asian that has the urge to hit a bar after every interview that doesn't necessarily go anywhere.

Reasons why winter wear for interviews reach major suckage points:

1. The heel issue -- Yes, I don't feel right wearing flats at interview.  I'm 4'11.  (Okay, fine, 4'11 on my Driver's License, 4'10 and a quarter in reality).  There's a reason why this Drunk Asian is Little.  So being of a petite stature, in the times of the unemployed, it is quite easy to feel that my height is a huge negative factor.  Don't ask me why.  I'm just grateful that all interviews are sitting down.  If they were standing, they would probably question if I've graduated eighth grade and whether I'm legally allowed to work.  But heels.  In winter.  In NYC.  In snow.  In snow that hasn't stopped snowing.  And even when it stops snowing, NYC is a walking city.  Because I am unemployed, I am budget driven.  Therefore, unlike Sex in the City, I am not rich enough to cab it everywhere.  No, I subway it everywhere.  Then, from the subway, like every other poor New Yorker, I walk.  And walking in snow, in NYC, blows chucks.

2. The skirt issue -- So okay, I don't have pant suites.   I've tried wearing them.  They make me look like a mini-Asian-wannabe-Ellen DeGenerous.  And Ellen is a lovely and beautiful woman in pant suites.  I am not.  I look like and 12-year-old child pretending I'm going to work with my parents for the day.  So therefore, I avoid the pant suite.  I go for the skirt, mostly dress route.  And well with heels, what goes in between the end of the dress and the beginning of the heel?  Pantyhose?  This isn't the 1980s.  I don't feel comfortable with stomach repressing hose that get runs every time I run into a door.   I'm not quite Melanie Griffith in Working Girl.  Although I do love that movie, in NYC, I rarely see women in hose and sneakers trekking to work with huge bags holding their heels.  So I try to wear black tights of the cotton variety.  Yes, my mother says that is interviewing sacrilege, but I like to keep my legs warm in winter.  Hose don't do much in 30 or below weather.  But often, dresses don't look great with back tights.  Oy vey.  So basically, I have two dresses (that kinda look alike) for my interviews.  I just have to hope that if I score a second interview that I'm meeting with a different person.

3. The hat issue -- Winter is a very cold and brutal time in the city, and interviewing is a cold and brutal time for those of us with not so great hair.  Therefore, I must deal with the to wear or not to wear hat issue.  Because to wear the hat means to keep my head and ears warm, but to not to wear the hat means to to fuck with my carefully placed hairdo of the day.  While my hairdos are never complicated, I'm guessing it's not so fetching for an employer to see me with windswept hair as if I've been driving in a convertible with the top down.

4. The coat issue -- It's a known fact that most dress coats aren't the warmest so therefore, layers are essential.  Wearing a full blown winter coat makes one look clunky, and if the coat has a furry hood, the employer might very well ask you if you are from Alaska.  And we all know, that while Alaska might be a very cool place to visit, many people associate Alaska with Sarah Palin, and in NYC, that is never a good thing.  

5. The scarf issue -- yes, scarves can be made to look elegant.  But usually, those elegant looking scarves are bought on Saks Fifth Avenue by people that don't have to worry about interviewing for jobs or walking to work (they'd be taking cabs).   And real winter scarves cut off the neck, mess with the hair (already a precarious issue with the hat in question), and makes one wonder where they will stuff the scarf when they prepare themselves to see said potential employer for the first time.  Also, scarves make one look shorter, which in my case, is not needed as I'm already just barely above Little People status.

On tough interview times like these, I make the hard decisions, I wear the bare minimum, I sacrifice warmth for look, and expose myself to possible illnesses for the pure enjoyment of selling myself to a job that may or may not like me.  Oy vey, these tough economic times.  Thank God for beer.