Reader B writes with a great question: should she leave her well-located office and move to a bigger one down the hall?

There is a large office that has been vacant in our firm for 9 months or so (another associate was let go). I have a small office, but I like the location of it. It’s right next to the partner I work for and the assistant we share, and there’s always activity around it, which suits my work style. The large office is down the hall a bit, in a quieter area with less activity and visibility, all of which are “cons” for me. I’ve been going back and forth with asking to move (I know they’d say yes). I think the large office looks better to clients, I’ve been here for several years now, and I’m the only attorney still in a small office, the rest are occupied by paralegals. Any thoughts as to size versus location and which is more important?

Tough, tough question. My gut reaction is you should stay put because you seem happy in your current office… but your points about the paralegals and clients are serious things to consider.  (Pictured: Office Hallway HDR Test, originally uploaded to Flickr by WintrHawk.)  Whichever one you choose, you may want to read our suggestions on office decor.

I suppose the first question to ask is whether there are any dream offices — i.e., larger offices, near your partner or in other active areas — even if they may be occupied at the moment? If so, first look at who’s occupying them.  Does anyone have their door closed frequently because the activity level is too much for him or her? Is anyone far from his or her assistant? I might approach that person and see if he or she would be interested in moving down the hall to the vacant office, perhaps with the promise of a nice lunch out on you (or help moving?) or something of the like. If that doesn’t work out, have a conversation with whoever is in charge of office assignments and put in an informal request to have your dream office once it becomes vacant.

If your choice is still between the small but well-located office or the larger but remote office, I think you have a few questions to ask yourself, such as:

• What percentage of your time is spent in meetings? Will this percentage greatly increase in one year, or two years?  Are there conference rooms nearby that you can use for meetings instead (and a reliable reservation system to make sure you have a room when you need it)?  Alternatively, can some of your meetings (such as new business pitches, etc) be held over lunch?  If so, invest a little time in perfecting the networking lunch, such as picking one nearby spot with excellent service (and decent food) for lunch, and getting to know the staff there so the meal goes incredibly smoothly.  If you would still prefer to hold meetings in your office, continue to the next question…
• Can you declutter your current office, perhaps by claiming file space near the vacant office?  If your office is smaller than everyone else’s, it should be as clean and as orderly as possible (although in general, readers have said that that a messy office only crosses the line “when it looks like you can’t get work done in there.”)
• Finally: Do you need to break any bad patterns?  You mention “the partner I work for.” I don’t know the particulars of your situation — maybe many associates in your firm are assigned to only help one partner.  But in some companies, it can be a bad sign if you’re only working with one boss.  Seriously take stock of that relationship: are you getting the opportunities you need for growth?  Are you learning what you need to accomplish your goals, whether you want to become partner, go in house, open your own practice, etc?  (Even if your goal is to be a stay at home mom, I would advise working with as many people as possible so you have numerous doors open to you if/when you return to work.)  Would you benefit from feedback from other partners?  If you take stock of that relationship and don’t like what you see… moving offices could be a great way to break up the pattern that has been established, and to start working with other partners at your firm.

Readers, what are your thoughts — would you prefer a big office, or a well-located one?  How much does “keeping up with the Joneses” play into it, versus having an office that suits Reader B’s workstyle? 

Which is more important — your salary or your title? Reader D wonders…

I would love to see a post on the relative merits of pursing a higher title or more compensation. Would readers be willing to be paid less (or the same amount) for a title bump? Or, would they demand that any title bump come with an increase in pay? Is title more important than money? Or, is money more important than title?

Interesting question. My first reaction was “money — duh” but I suppose there are situations where a title would be more important than money. We’ve talked before about how job hopping isn’t the best idea, but in some professions (for example, magazines), historically, the way to get through all the bottom-rung positions (editorial assistant, assistant editor, junior editor, etc.) was to change jobs as frequently as possible. The salary bumps were miniscule, and the job title was, generally, ceremonial — a junior editor still had to sort reader mail as much as an editorial assistant — but they helped you advance to the real editing much more quickly. So I suppose, in today’s environment — where more and more industries are taking the Hollywood “Harvard grads start in the mailroom” approach to hiring, and where people often take internship after internship because real jobs are scarce — well, maybe I would take the title over the money. (Pictured: Up! originally uploaded to Flickr by Peter π.)

However, sometimes bosses give a “title bump” in lieu of a raise. This could be for a number of reasons — chief among them, I think, is that the boss thinks you’ll accept it instead of money. Each situation is different, and we are in a recession, but if it were me, I would demand a small raise if I were taking a new title — particularly if responsibilities are increasing! — even if it’s only 1% or 2%, and ask for a salary review on a more expedited timeline (such as six months instead of a year) to reassess.

Readers, how do you weigh salary versus title? Would you rather have a better title or a better salary?

Reader C has a great question about how to deal with her fiance, who wants her to sign a pre-nuptial agreement…

After 7 years of dating (since my junior year of college) and one year of being engaged, my fiance just brought them up. Both of us have advanced degrees but he’s in finance and I work in public interest law. I am significantly less financially secure than him and will make significantly less in my career. But we’ve always functioned like a team. We’ve both made moves and career decisions for each other. He’s my best friend. But I’m really hurt. Our wedding is only a month and a half out and this feels very rushed to me. We both have said we would never get divorced (and after 8 happy years together, I truly believe we’ll make it), but his phrasing is that “he analyzes risk for a living and he just wants to be extra secure that in the unlikely event of divorce, he is prepared.” I think that even having a pre-nupt opens the door to divorce and don’t understand why if he says he doesn’t believe in divorce that he’d request one. This feels like the biggest breach in our relationship ever. Advice? Am I being ridiculous? Is he? How many corporette readers have pre-nupts (statistics I found said 5-10% of marriages but that includes second marriages and marriages with children from previous marriages where I think it makes more sense)? Can anyone help me get on board with this or am I right to be freaking out (after all, a pre-nupt can only hurt me)?

Interesting question.  I’ve seen articles that say pre-nups are on the rise (even though the oft-quoted statistic that 50% of couples divorce isn’t really true).  Personally, I come to pre-nups from the other side of things: even though I’m wildly in love, as well as Catholic and of the “divorce is not an option” mindset, I’m the one who brought them up with my husband, R. I broached the subject with this little speech:  Good Kat and Good R are marrying now, and we love each other and of course would want to take care of each other (or at least be fair to each other) even if something were to happen and if we were to divorce.  But — if we actually WERE to divorce, that would be a sea change (because we love each other so much right now and can’t possibly imagine it!!) and, in that event, we’d probably be dealing with either Bad Kat or Bad R or both.  And my point was that if we really loved each other now, wouldn’t it be a nice thing if Good Kat and Good R had agreed to the terms of the divorce — and not Bad Kat or Bad R, who probably would have hurt feelings and maybe a bit of blood thirst. Furthermore, even though the pre-nup terms we discussed were very close to New York state law, something else I liked was that if the law changed, or if we moved to a new state, we wouldn’t have to deal with new information — the terms of the divorce would always be a known quantity.

Another side of this discussion, of course, is the adage “don’t marry someone you wouldn’t want to divorce.”  I think that’s very true — but I will say that sometimes qualities that can be attractive to a person, such as competitiveness and determination, can turn against you, and turn hard.  If you’re up against that partner in a divorce, a pre-nup can be a great way to guard against an unfair divorce.

So I would look at the agreement your fiance is proposing (or the terms that he’s proposing, if nothing is written yet) — are the terms fair to you?  Are they what a loving mate would want you to have now, if things go sour in the future? It sounds like he’s going to have a lot of assets (or already does) — what do you want of that?  It doesn’t hurt to talk explicitly about how the situation would change if you have children, especially in the event you take time off from your career to stay home with them for a bit.  (Which, no matter how strongly you think you know one way or another whether you’d like to be a working mom or not, can totally change once the baby arrives — some women find they just can’t leave their little one; others can’t deal with the drudgery of baby rearing.) I recommend the book What to Do Before I Do to you, if only to think about all of the different things you should discuss.

Now, that said, R and I never actually got around to signing the pre-nup — it turned into a post-nup, which we intended to sign before we bought the apartment, but never quite got around to it.  And now that we have a son… well, meh.  (We always joke that everything we have is his now, anyway.)

Readers, what are your thoughts?  Do you have a pre-nup?  Would you be offended if your partner wanted one?

Reader L wonders how to stay friendly with people who compete for the same jobs she is…

I am about to graduate from graduate school in a professional field. My friends and I are all searching for similar jobs. How can we deal with the competitive nature of the job hunt, specifically in our field, without letting it get in the way of our relationships? I feel pangs of jealousy when a friend gets an interview for a job I applied for (a highly immature reaction, I know) and I’m sure I’m not the only one of the group to feel this way. I try to avoid discussing the job hunt, but it seems to come up in conversation regardless. Help!

We got into this a bit back when another reader asked about being competitive with her significant other, but I don’t think we’ve talked about it in the abstract.  So let’s discuss.  (Pictured: Gold, Silver, Bronze, originally uploaded to Flickr by TofflerAnn.)

First:  Don’t talk about it.  You know this (everyone does), but hey, one must start with the basics.  If you’re stressed about interviews, don’t talk about it.  If you’re worried about an upcoming interview, don’t talk about it.  If you’re pleased that one went well, definitely don’t talk about it.  Some of this comes down to social circles — surely you have friends or family who are not going through the same interview stress that you are right now, and you can talk about it with them.

Now, if you’re doing poorly, perhaps you should talk about it to see what you’re doing wrong.  But I would start with Career Services at your school, because they’ll have the best idea of how you’re actually doing.  For example, if you’ve applied to ten jobs and gotten two interviews:  that may mean “wow, let’s find that typo on your resume” or it may be “congratulations! that’s great in this economy!”  After you’ve talked about it with Career Services, if you still want to talk to friends about it, choose one or two people who you will listen to and trust their advice, and no more.  Bonus points if you can find friends a year or two ahead of you in school who’ve already been through this all before, but are no longer mired in it.

Second:  Deal with what you can control: yourself.  I completely understand the jealousy — it’s human nature.  I would take “immaturity” out of it and ask yourself: can you get over it?  For example, can you reason with yourself that the other people have a different background, different wording on their resumes, different connections — and all those little differences sometimes add up to “let’s call person X” or “let’s not call person Y.”  The mood of the person selecting resumes could have been different… they could have been rushing… they could have preferred the font your friend used to the one that you used.  It could be anything.  The trick is to acknowledge that and move past it.

Now if you can’t move past it — that’s OK.  I think it takes maturity to recognize that and act accordingly, such as removing yourself from those social circles for a little while and hanging out with other friends, or by yourself.

Third: If people are jealous of you, you’ve probably broken Rule the First — and talked about it.  So: don’t do that.

Readers, what are your best tips for dealing with this situation?  How do you handle it when you and friends compete for jobs?

Reader J wonders how she can turn a temporary job into a permanent job, but is nervous because she already knows the interviewers…

After being laid off from an in-house counsel position several months ago, I obtained a part-time, temporary position in the same industry. After being here a couple months, the company opened up a permanent, full-time Associate General Counsel position. The job description is broader than what I am doing as my temp assignment, but I believe I am well-qualified. I also really like the company and my co-workers. I submitted my resume, and HR just contacted me to schedule interviews for next week.

What makes this situation unusual is that my interviewers will be the GC and others with whom I already interact on a daily basis. I think I interview pretty well; I have been offered nearly every job I have interviewed for since graduating from law school. But I am very nervous about this temp-to-perm scenario.

Congratulations on making it through to the first round of interviews! We’ve talked about how to change jobs within companies before, but we haven’t really talked about how to interview with your current colleagues and coworkers.  To be honest, I’m not quite sure I understand your nervousness — this sounds like a great situation from all angles. From my perspective: your interviewers know you and your work product, you already know a bit about them and how to play the interview, it should be easy to figure out what the interviewer is “really” asking, and you probably have a better understanding of the new job and its demands. When I interviewed for my last legal job (at the non-profit), I already knew my future boss, having interned at the non-profit during law school and having kept in touch with her through the years.  I viewed that as a positive thing because I knew what to expect on the interview.  Don’t get me wrong, I did my homework, just like I would have for any job interview: I scoured the non-profit’s website, I read up on the particular area of the law that they wanted the new position to focus on (I read an entire treatise the nonprofit had put out on the subject, actually), I went through recent newsletters and publications to find other new cases and issues to discuss at the interview, and I did my best to figure out what was “missing” or what I could add.  (And yes, I wore a suit, even though I knew it was a business casual office.) I always advise anyone going on a job interview to focus on what you bring to the job, but here that “let me help you” vibe was magnified because I was excited to show my potential boss how I could make an impact in the job, how my background would be perfect for the position, and how my approach to the job would be the right one.  I also went into the interview with the theory that if she didn’t like my approach, or if she found another candidate who was better qualified — well, so be it — and I like to think that we would have stayed friendly even if I hadn’t gotten the job.

You haven’t said whether or not the new job will be replacing your temporary job — or if the temp job will still exist after they fill this position.  If they do fill the position with someone else, do your best not to be bitter about it, and carry on like the professional you are.

It is a little weird that the company didn’t come to you directly to let you know you should throw your hat into the ring for the position, but that possibly can be chalked up to corporate bureaucracy — maybe jobs are created and advertised through a specific process.  In any event, I might do some extra preparation for what might be your perceived “weaknesses” — if you haven’t done X before in this position, for example, I would make sure I had a number of specific examples of times you did X in previous jobs.  If there are new skills required, explain what your approach would be to learn those skills — and tell or remind the interviewer (again, with specific stories whenever possible) about how you’ve already learned Y and Z in the past.

Readers, what are your best tips for interviewing with friends and coworkers? 

A recent SNL episode featured a fictional campaign advertisement for a mayoral candidate.  The character, Glenda Okones (played by Kristen Wiig),  listed her flaws, including her reputation for being harsh and cold.  “Here’s why,” she said:  “I just have a naturally frowny face. Not ugly, but certainly severe looking.”

Ah, perfect, I thought: an opportunity to talk about bitchface.

I’ll admit: the main reason we haven’t talked about it before is because I didn’t want to use bad words in the headline of the post!  But I think this is something that can affect a professional woman’s career, and something we should talk about.

Now I admit, wholeheartedly, that I have a naturally frowny face.  A reader once remarked that in my videos I’m always super smiley — it’s primarily because I end up looking super annoyed if I’m not.  (If I have time I’ll have to dig out some scrapped footage from the Lancome sponsored post — I couldn’t believe the video editors got so much usable footage of me looking serious because when I sent it in I worried I just looked bitchy.  Here:  me, serene but not smiling , versus me, actually pissed off.) I think most times it doesn’t matter.  After all, if I’m talking with people they can usually tell that I’m not super annoyed, and if I’m not talking to people (such as if I’m just walking down the street), I don’t really care what you think of me.

That said, I can think of at least one time this trait affected me professionally.  A few years ago I was part of a very small trial team in federal court in Philadelphia.  After a few days of trial, I grew weary of the high calorie, rushed lunches my colleagues ate, and so I excused myself and ducked out to the Subway across the street… and promptly found myself in line, in a very small shop, with all of the female members of the jury.  The first thought that went through my mind was panic — should I turn and walk out?  (I stayed. Which, looking back, was probably the wrong decision.)  Would they recognize me?  (Of course they would — it was an empty courtroom every day except for the lawyers, jury, judge, and occasional witness.)  Should I try to make conversation?  Compliment someone’s bag?  Talk about the sandwich I was looking forward to?  (I decided not to speak unless spoken to.)

Having made all these difficult decisions in the space of about two seconds, I was left standing there wondering what to do.  I didn’t want to fiddle with my phone or Blackberry — they might see some private conversation or think I was self-absorbed.  I realized that, no matter what they thought of my case, my fellow attorneys, or my behavior during the trial, I wanted them, above all else, to not think I was a total bitch.  I didn’t want it to come up in the jury deliberation room — “oh, the side with those stuck-up New York lawyers?” — and I didn’t want it to come up in the back of their minds.  In fact, never in my life had I wanted to look so approachable, so reasonable, so likeable, as I did in those few minutes… and that includes the first time I met my future in-laws.

What I wound up doing was studying the menu — like I had never been to a Subway before in my life! — and doing my very, very best to think happy, contented thoughts.  I thought of my then-boyfriend (now husband), and our upcoming trip to Paris.  I thought of a great sale that I’d been to a week or so before.  I thought of a funny inside joke my brother and I have shared for the past 25 years or so.  And then I ordered my sandwich (being extra careful to say please and thank you), and got the heck out of that Subway shop.

Ever since that Subway experience, I’ve wondered about bitchface.  Can it really affect you professionally?  I can imagine that I probably looked like a bitch when I was taking notes in all of my classes, particularly the classes where I wasn’t engaged — did teachers think less of me because of my naturally frowny face?  In interviews, many people say the first impression, such as seeing someone in a waiting room, is what matters — should I always attempt to “think happy thoughts” during those time periods?  Does it matter that this is one of those peculiar female problems — for example, how many male politicians and trial lawyers tell themselves to think happy thoughts during their moments in repose?

Readers, what do you think?  Do you think you have a naturally frowny face — and how has it affected your professional life? 

Have you ever been denied a promotion because you were too good at your current job?  Reader N suspects this may be what’s at play at her workplace, and wonders what she can do about it.

I just read your article “Getting the Work You Want” and I wanted to ask a follow up question. I’ve found myself in a position of getting passed over for moving into a complex litigation team, despite having openly expressed my interest, and my superior agreeing that I would be better used in that area. (I’ve had this reinforced by rave reviews for my senior attorneys and from fellow co-workers who I’ve helped out.)

From what I can tell, it seems that my superiors (and theirs) place more value in the fact that I can manage my workload and simultaneously back up three to four people at a time. I’ve backed up coworkers in the complex team, too, but as for moving up with them permanently… nothing.

So what’s a girl to do when I have spoken up and asked… and nothing happens? Have I shot myself in the foot by having quality and quantity? Should I just take the rave reviews and recommendations and look for work elsewhere?

Fabulous question. There are a million reasons why people don’t get jobs and promotions — including not being right for them.  That said, something I’ve seen happen is when a boss keeps a “good worker” in the trenches because his or her own life is made so much easier by the worker.  The boss knows the job will get done, and done well. He or she doesn’t have to hire or train anyone new.  It’s great!  For the boss, that is.  For the worker (which may be Reader N, here) you don’t grow at all.  For a particularly selfish boss, he or she may also try to restrain you from working with other people, give you lackluster reviews or recommendations to keep you with them, and maybe even talk down to you to make you question whether or not you “deserve” better than your current job.  (Pictured: Held back, originaly uploaded to Flickr by Matthew Wilkinson.)

This is one of the reasons why it’s so important to be the master of your own career.  You need to be the one constantly assessing where you are — and speaking up until you get to where you should be, even if that makes you feel pushy.  If you do find yourself in a situation where a boss is holding you back, in my opinion, there isn’t much you can do about it beyond getting away from the the toxic personality. And if that means taking a new job, so be it.

However, I would give every boss the benefit of the doubt — once.  For example, here, Reader N says “from what I can tell” — N, have you spoken to your superiors about why you didn’t get moved to the area you wanted?  This is a 100% valid question. Approach it with a learning mindset — be as far from “entitled” as you can be. Frustrated is fine — exacerbated even — but be careful about crossing into “angry and emotional.” Sit down with your superiors, show the different ways that you made your preference known, the positive feedback you got, and then express your confusion over the lack of movement that followed. I’d also ask when you can next expect to be moved to your preferred area.

Once you have their official answer, look at it objectively.  Maybe you were lacking a certain skill.  Maybe Person X had more of the skills needed.  Maybe they wanted to keep you in your current department until a particular big project finished.  Maybe a more formal process is required for a move like the one you want.  Whatever they say, try to make sense of it.  It’s still fair for you to get angry, and it’s still fair for you to look for a new job — but it’s also fair to say “Oh, that’s what happened,” and then sit tight until the next window of opportunity arrives.

Readers, have you ever been held back because you were doing too good of a job?  What did you do about it?  What is your general approach if you don’t get a promotion you’ve lobbied for?

There was an interesting article in Forbes the other week about how power women wake up early, and commenters seemed interested in talking about it more, so I thought we should explore in an open thread. How early do you get up? What do you do with the time? Any tips that make it easier to get up then? For those of you who don’t rise that early, do you have another special time of the day? (Sunrise, originally uploaded to Flickr by killthebird.)

For my $.02: I was always a night owl when I was younger. Term papers and graduation speeches alike got written in the hours between 12 and 3. I realized this was a problem sometime around high school when, reading a college admissions essay I had thought brilliant the night before, I realized a good two sentences were devoted to “finding a piece of licorice on the floor.” And not even in a metaphor way, just a “Kat had a dream while typing” way. Still, the habit perpetuated until after law school, I think. By then — working crazy long hours — I realized that my best time truly was first thing upon waking. So I started getting up earlier.

I also realized a funny thing: that the time was truly mine when I got up earlier. I wasn’t rushing out the door to get to work. I had time (and energy) for a workout. Then I truly got greedy and realized I could get the ME stuff done then — the stuff I’d always wanted to do but never had the chance to. I attempted to finish NaNoWriMo in the hours between 4:30-6:30 one November. I read books I had meant to read in college but never gotten around to — thinky books that won National Book Awards, and not just the latest brain candy. I started this blog. (In fact, most of the longer posts for the first six months of this blog were written primarily in those morning hours.) Occasionally, I would even use this “super Kat” time for good and do work work (usually when I was up against a deadline and needed super focus to get it done.) I love these hours — time to myself, and time to be proactive rather than react to the day.

All that said — I’ll admit it’s really hard to get up, especially when it’s dark outside. I’ve found that it’s helpful to set the coffee the night before, and also to put my workout clothes in the bathroom so it doesn’t take too much effort to change into them.  I also tell myself, “If something is important to you there will be time in your schedule for it somewhere, and now is that time.”

Readers, how about you? Do you rise and shine early — and do you use it for “me” time or productive work time?

Reader C wonders who the happy lawyers are… but I think this leads us to a bigger question that will hopefully make for an interesting discussion: how do you view your career in your general quest for happiness?

Hi Kat, I have a question for you and your incredible readers. I am an undergrad applying to law schools now for next fall and I do recognize the oft-quoted “realities” (from friends of family, professors, etc) of being a lawyer- mountains of dense reading, long (sometimes extremely so) hours, getting stuck in a job you hate just to pay of the $200k of student loans your education cost you. I sort of stumbled onto the idea of law, I wasn’t one of those who dreamed my whole life of putting away the bad guys or anything; I randomly found it through a class but I have never been more in love with a subject. I am an avid Corporette reader, but the things I read in the comments section of many posts terrify me and leave me to ask, rather desperately: Is anyone happy being a lawyer? I know everyone is different, had a different idea of “the dream lawyering job,” reacts differently to stress, etc. but if there is anyone out there who loves being a lawyer, it would be a huge comfort to hear about it!

First off: apologies to the non-lawyer/JD students among Corporette readers; hopefully our discussion will take us to greater truths about happiness and your career.  That said… reader C’s question is a great, great question, and I think the readers will give far better answers than I will considering that I never really found my happy sweet spot in the law, personally. Something I’ve heard often, and agree with wholeheartedly, is that there are two kinds of people: those who enjoy law school, and those who enjoy the practice of law. I am totally in the first camp of people — I loved law school, which I found to be filled with ethereal questions that you can ponder at your leisure and come to your own conclusion. There are clear paths to “success,” and good work is tangibly rewarded with grades and other honors. (Pictured: Rainbow Valley, originally uploaded to Flickr by rwangsa.)

On the other hand, I found the practice of law (and to be clear, my experience is mostly limited to BigLaw litigation) to be better suited for people who loved debate — you’re not picking the “right” answer for yourself, but arguing whatever’s best for your client. The practice of law involves both customer service (and in BigLaw they expect you to be always responsive) and, the higher you climb up the ladder, sales — in that you’re expected to wine and dine new clients to bring to the firm. There are not many tangible rewards for good work, at least in Big Law — everyone is paid the same, and whether you win or lose a case often has very little to do with the level of effort on your part. The drudgery quotient is also high, at least at the beginning — lots of doc review and case-hunting (where partner says, “I need a case that says the sky is blue — go find it.”).  There’s also often an element of “you must learn your client’s industry and business inside out so you can understand the documents you’re preparing or the arguments you’re making.”  All of this isn’t a bad thing, per se, but when you hear about the high number of unhappy lawyers I think it’s often because people went into it thinking they “like to write” or “loved thinking about legal questions” and find themselves in a customer service and sales position.

That said — there are LOTS of happy lawyers, and many of them read this blog. In reader surveys, people consistently say that they’re happy with their work on an intellectual, monetary, and lifestyle basis. I’ve noticed more than a few comment threads where people talk about their love for their job, and some of the older readers even noted that they had to switch jobs numerous times or that they had to work for 15 years before they found their happy place.  (Way to be persistent, ladies!)

The other thing to mention (especially to a college student) is that I’m not sure I put stock in the idea that your job is going to be your ultimate source of happiness and fulfillment — after all, they do pay you do to it.  I think it’s better viewed as primarily a source of income (and possibly accolades) and certain types of happiness, such as the society you keep at work as well as the intellectual stimulation the work provides to you, weighed against the stress inherent with the job and the time your job takes you away from other things.

So let’s talk about this.  Readers: If you’re in law, are you happy?  For those readers who’ve been lawyers for more than 5 years — what facets of the job do you enjoy the most?  In general, ladies, how do you balance the “work” nature of work with this broader idea that we want to be happy and fulfilled most of our waking hours?

So a few weeks ago there was this survey: more makeup makes you look more competent. Or so they say. This seems like exactly the kind of thing we should explore here… hence today’s open thread.

So here are some of the pictures they showed to test subjects. And I thought I’d share my thoughts (I typed these specifically for the first row, but really they sort of apply across the board).
- Picture 1: Aww, is she a college student on summer break? (Which is really interesting, because while we’ve talked about young women feeling unprofessional if they’re not wearing makeup, it isn’t a bias I generally think I have.)
- Picture 2: Meh. No opinion. She doesn’t look very friendly.
- Picture 3: Ok, if I were this chick, this is probably the amount of makeup that I’d be comfortable wearing on a daily basis, at least at the beginning of the day. That said, does it affect how I feel to look at her as a potential colleague? I suppose it does, but it comes back to me — she and I both feel comfortable putting the same amount of work into our makeup and outfits, so we must have similar/same outlooks on life. Great!
- Picture 4: This is the “glamorous” look. Maybe I’ve been hanging out with fashion bloggers too long, but she doesn’t look particularly glamorous to me. She looks kind of like the villainous boss in a movie. Is it because of the makeup? Because of the darker brows and lighter hair? The expression? This is also interesting, because according to the study, “women in glamorous makeup were found to be less trustworthy.”

The thing that I kept thinking while looking at the pictures, though is this:  expressions are huge.  I’ve worked with a lot of young newbies starting their first job, and thinking back to that first meeting, whatever impression I had of them was formed not through abstract things (like their makeup, or even their clothes) but rather their expressions.  If someone comes into your office, plops down and gives you the dead stare seen in each of the 12 pictures:  you curse the hiring department.  Whereas, if she’s eagerly listening to what you’re assigning, and maybe even suggesting other avenues for research or development — it doesn’t matter if she’s wearing buckets of makeup or not, you think, WOW, it’s gonna be great to work with her.

So let’s take it back to the realm of photographs.  Would you want to work with her based ONLY on her picture?  Honestly, I wouldn’t want to work with any of the women in this photo — they all look humorless, tired, and a bit wary.  I’ve advised this for corporate photos, and I’ll advise it again here:  your resume and your achievements are usually posted alongside your photo, so the main thing your photo needs to convey is friendliness.  Forget “smize-ing” (as Tyra would say) or trying to give some smoldering look of sheer intelligence… just look like someone trustworthy, responsive, and friendly — the kind of person you’d want at the other end of a phone line if you’ve got a problem.

I’m not saying that makeup doesn’t matter — but I think it speaks to judgment calls you make.  The woman in the third row — her first picture makes her look tired, weary, as if she is so overworked and overstressed that it is all she can do to get a shower in and show up at the office on time.  Her fourth picture (with the heavy lipstick) makes her look high maintenance, even vain, to me, because I know how much work maintaining that dark perfect lip must take. Women wearing the completely wrong color of lipstick similarly get dinged — they look like they haven’t done a self-assessment in a while.

I don’t know (um, obviously): readers, what do you think?  What do you think about the women in the photographs? And do you think those thoughts translate to makeup… or that the bigger thing you’re evaluating in the photos is the expression?  Do you take anything away from the study re: how much makeup to wear for the office?