Not long ago, I worked for a large Midwestern manufacturing company. The unspoken uniform: golf shirts and Dockers for men, twin sets and boxy turtlenecks for women. Occasionally some daring soul would attempt a trend and be smacked back into sartorial obscurity.

Whenever someone would wear something with a loud pattern (regardless how garish) I had a colleague who would chirp, “That looks just like something you’d wear!” In small town America, fashionable is synonymous with tacky.

No that I didn’t try. When pattern mixing was first taking off, I tried my hand at it, pairing a honeycomb-patterned jacket with subtly pinstriped pants. It conformed to all the rules (keep the outfit all in the same color scheme; mix patterns of varying size and intensity) and yet the whole day I got stares like the first-grader whose mother let her dress herself for the first time. Another time, I wore a shrug to the office (the garment, not the gesture.) A colleague surveyed me quizzically, then remarked: “It’s just sleeves.”

“It’s Tracy Reese,” I defended.

“Oh. Isn’t she down in accounting?”

This episode, coupled with countless others, serves as a reminder that ultimately, you must dress for the environment you work in and the position you aspire to.

There were fashionable people at my old company. We were scattered like truly good finds at a TJ Maxx, however. But really, you can’t blame people in tiny Midwestern towns for dressing like every day was the corporate picnic. A trip to the nearest mall required crossing a state line. Chain stores dotted the landscape, and truly inspired shopping necessitated a drive into Chicago.
Ah, Chicago. The place of dreams. Michigan Avenue and the city’s myriad independent boutiques beckoned from across the lake like Betsy Johnson at a sample sale. Then I got a job at Edelman, a PR firm downtown. I knew this was the place for me on my first interview: Full skirts! Cropped jackets! Not an oxford shirt in sight! I had to have this job.

I spent my first season in the city updating (meaning slashing and burning) my wardrobe. Out went the boxy cardigans (unless a wide belt around the waist could salvage it.) Away with the blue button-down shirts, the suits cut like tents. Gone were the separates from Coldwater Creek, the flats from Naturalizer. In with fitted denim jackets, jersey dresses and handbags rescued from Filene’s Basement. It was expensive and time-consuming and very worth it.

Attire here is cutthroat. Here, you’re much better off attempting a daring trend and failing miserably than sticking to basics from the Gap. Style is not only appreciated; it’s expected. Once, when our team was interviewing candidates for a new position, one gentleman was later remembered only for “that tie that was straight out of Indianapolis circa 1983.”

Ultimately, though, PR is considered a “creative” field, which means a regular refreshing of the closet is necessary. This can get prohibitively expensive, especially when you tack on Chicago’s 9 percent sales tax. So I’ve decided to start this blog dedicated to looking put together without entering bankruptcy. There are plenty of great fashion blogs out there (The Budget Fashionista by Katherine Finney is by far my favorite, as well as my colleague Sara Fisher’s Interior Office, who encouraged me to start my own blog.) My niche is trendy professional attire at budget-friendly prices. We’ll see where this goes. Thanks for reading.