As the work day changes, the way people dress for a day’s work has too. Our new series is designed to provide insight into the alt-lifestyle of the freelancer. Now that “creative types” at the helm of the freelance revolution no longer have to hide their true colors under business causal dress codes, we wanted to see what they wear to work when their day job is free from public and professional scrutiny. And then share it with the public.
Our first contributor is Boston-based freelance music and culture writer, Luke O’Neil— a man with so many bylines his Twitter bio can barely contain them. He turns out posts on media, music and general cultural trends at an alarming rate. He’s also written several pieces and columns about what it’s like to be a freelancer in his trademark voice, dispelling snowballing myths in their tracks with a highly caffeinated, no bullshit, run-on with a clear overtone (or outright accusation) of “Hey you know how you think that? Well, you’re wrong.”
Line of work
Luke: I often delight in the cognitive dissonance at work in how one of my main writing gigs is for Bullett, a site with an exceptionally fashion conscious, young, hip audience, and how I’m basically a 75-year-old hobo with wifi. But that’s the beauty of being a freelancer who works from home most of the time I suppose. If I had to go into an office every day I would probably invest a little more energy into, you know, buying clothes more than once a year and wearing them until they’re riddled with holes, but not having to do that is one of the reasons why I never wanted to work in offices in the first place.
I wrote a thing about how working from home enables you to work naked for the Village Voice a couple years ago (complete with gratuitous ass shot), but that was mostly a joke. In all honesty, for years I’ve always had this weird thing where when I get up (around like nine a.m. on average), I have to get dressed and put on shoes just to go sit at the kitchen table and write. Not “get dressed” mind you, but at least make myself feel like I could in theory go out into the world without being immediately hauled off to jail. It’s like an act of showing up for work, in my mind. I could never lay in bed and work, there has to be a line drawn between being present online and being in my own downtime.
That isn’t my “favorite” outfit by any stretch, but it’s what I happened to be wearing today, and I was too lazy to put on anything more appealing. I guess I tend to wear broke-ass skinny jeans from like Target or the Gap, the same version of navy and silver Saucony Jazz I’ve been buying for years over and over, and some sort of jerk off too-tight t-shirt. Maybe I’ll wash my face and brush some of last night’s Triscuit crumbs out of my beard.
That’s different over the summer when it’s hot as shit, when I usually do go mostly naked around the house. Maybe a pair of jorts and that’s about it. Here’s me on my back porch where I do most of my “working” anyway. Meaning, I go and stare at my Twitter and smoke too much and drink a gallon of Keurig coffee I poured over ice into a reused Dunkin Donuts cup. That could just be more the townie Masshole in me speaking than the Internet media man though. Those two things are often at odds in my daily routine.