After writing about respectability in dress , I started thinking about dress codes more generally.

I had a relative whose school principal randomly started enforcing a rule: no jeans and no open-toe shoes for teachers.

There wasn’t a clear reason.

The directive came from higher administration, but there was so much pushback that it eventually got kicked down for the individual principals to decide.

The teachers had been dressing like this for years so they were understandably annoyed.

I remember something similar at an old job.

We got a new CEO who liked to wear suits.

For a few weeks, people were nervous he might make the rest of us start dressing up too.

These are real concerns.

Because a lot of the time dress codes don’t arrive with a reason.

Sometimes they arrive with a person.

When Dress Codes Make Sense

There are situations where dress codes are reasonable.

Safety is the clearest one.

If you’re working with machinery, chemicals, or in a medical setting, clothing matters. Protective gear isn’t optional.

Identification can matter too.

In certain roles, it helps to know who is staff and who isn’t. A uniform, badge, or even just a consistent visual cue can make things run more smoothly.

There’s also a case for coordination in highly visible, client-facing environments.

Not because one look is “better,” but because it reduces ambiguity. It signals who is responsible for what and creates a more predictable experience.

And in some cases, limiting distraction makes sense.

If the environment requires sustained attention, it’s reasonable to minimize things that constantly pull focus.

When They Start to Break Down

Where dress codes become questionable is when they drift away from function.

When they’re about enforcing sameness.

Or signaling status.

Or “raising standards” in a vague, unmeasurable way.

Or just because someone new wants to “shake things up.”

The problem is for most modern work environments, clothing has very little to do with actual output.

So you end up managing appearance instead of performance.

Meet the New Boss, Same as the Old Boss

I think a lot of this comes down to perception.

New leadership often feels pressure to establish authority or signal change.

Clothing is the easiest and most visible place to do that. 

You can point to it and say, “see this is different now.”

You can’t fix systems, improve workflows, offer better benefits, or raise wages.

But you can tell people what to wear.

Some People Are Just Sticklers

There’s also a certain type of person who is very comfortable with rules.

Once a rule exists, it has to be enforced and sometimes with surprising enthusiasm.

Not because it improves anything.

But because it creates a clear line between what’s “right” and what’s “wrong.”

I find some people really like having that line.

Real Life vs The Rule

In the school example, I don’t have kids. But I can’t imagine my main concern would be whether a teacher is wearing jeans or open-toe shoes.

I’d be more interested in whether they’re good at their job.

As for that CEO, he wore suits for a few weeks, then gradually toned it down.

It may have been intentional.

Establish presence first. Then relax.

Or maybe he realized it didn’t matter.

Either way, the result was the same.

He adapted.

Which is usually the more functional move.

What Seems to Matter

Dress codes make sense when they’re tied to something real:

safety

clarity

function

coordination

They start to feel unnecessary when they’re tied to perception alone.

Especially when that perception has no measurable impact on the work itself.

Clothing is one of the few things you can control instantly.

Which is why it often gets controlled first.

Even when it has the least to do with the actual problem.