The evolution of Consultant Chic

Greetings, greedy consultants. A quick look at the dress code that we consultants used to have.

In the late 1990s, I embarked on my illustrious career as a consultant, looking every bit the part in my straight pants (no jeans for this fancy-pants consultant) and crisp, well-ironed collar shirts. If I was feeling extra fancy, I’d don a full suit, complete with tie, to impress clients and colleagues alike.

2020s Business Casual

Fast-forward to 2002, when the dress code began its downward spiral. Suddenly, it was all

about flaunting a more colourful tie – think novelty-store-bright hues that screamed “Look at me, I’m a fun guy!” But hey, who needs subtlety when you’re trying to make a statement?

By 2005, suits had become an endangered species in the consultant jungle. Why? Because if you wore one, you looked like a poser trying to compensate for lack of skills with fancy clothes. It was like wearing a neon sign that read “I have no idea what I’m doing!” The tie, once a staple of my wardrobe, made its final appearance sans suit in 2003 – a momentous occasion, indeed.

Around the same time, shoes underwent a radical transformation from sleek leather to… (drumroll) …sneakers! Because who needs professionalism when you can rock up to a client meeting looking like you just rolled out of bed and stumbled onto the conference room floor?

And then came the era of “body art.” It was no longer enough to simply wear sneakers; now, consultants felt the need to express themselves through an array of tattoos. Tribal armbands, cryptic quotes on the ribcage, and – why not? – a full sleeve of anime characters were all fair game. Because what says “I’m a trusted advisor” more than a forearm covered in Hello Kitty artwork?

And then came the COVID era. The great work-from-home experiment of 2020 brought about a new era of “consultant chic.” Gone were the days of ironed shirts and clean pants. Now, it was all about rocking up to Zoom meetings in pajamas, with hair that looked like it had been styled by a hurricane. Eau de cologne? Ha! Who needs personal hygiene when you can just spritz on some hand sanitizer and call it a day?

Which brings me back to a conversation I had in 1999 with a telecom operator colleague who lamented about his manager-level peer getting more respect simply because he dressed better. “All you need to do is wear a suit, and suddenly you’re the boss,” my friend quipped. Ah, how prophetic those words were.

In hindsight, it’s clear that we consultants have been on a mission to dress ourselves into oblivion – or at least into a state of utter confusion. But hey, who needs dignity when you can wear pajamas to work, sport a sleeve of tattoos, and call yourself a “thought leader”?