In case you were wondering, high heels were considered fashionable for men from about the mid-16th century to the mid-18th century. It's rise in western fashion can be traced to interactions with the Persian Empire, where heeled boots were worn to keep feet from slipping out of stirrups. Women adopted high heels not as a sign of femininity, but to copy the military fashions that were de rigueur at the time. It was only by the Enlightenment, when it was agreed that all men needed to be sensible and boring looking, that the high heel for men fell out of fashion.
I begin my discussion with high heels to make the point that if you were a 17th century job seeker looking to be a clerk or a merchant or a playwright or whatever it was that well-educated people did, Ye Olde Career Services, now the Center for Professional Development, would be sending out missives to the men and not the women to warn against looking slutty and wearing the wrong shoes. Perusing the center's Pinterest Board yes, they have a Pinterest board regarding proper interview dress, it came to my intention that the men's board was filled with six different versions of tie knots, while the ladies' one was filled with instructions to wear skirts, high heels (but not too high!), "feminine" tops, not "boxy button-ups" and "subtle" makeup. I wasn't sure whether or not to be offended by this, but since I am a columnist I feel it is my duty to be offended by things, so here it goes: I AM OUTRAGED. I think it is offensive and sexist to assume that Dartmouth men are so stupid as to need six different sets of instructions on how to tie a tie.
I am not doing full-on corporate recruiting, partly because I lack any marketable skills whatsoever, but mostly because I am not a masochist. Early on in the process, I realized that I would rather watch the Colbert Report on Hulu than use those 20 minutes to submit a resume and write 250 words about why I wanted to work for Last Name, Last Name and Last Name Inc. I have friends going through recruiting, and they all look very professional as they trot across campus to half a dozen interviews in which they are asked to estimate the number of fire hydrants in New York City. I know they would all be wonderful consultants, because they look great in a suit and enjoy telling people what to do.
To those of you who have yet to reach the advanced age of the members of the Class of 2014, I would say that if you're thinking about doing corporate recruiting, only do it if you feel that sincerely in the bottom of your soul that you want to spend the next 2-4 years in New York or Boston, working your ass off and making a lot of money solving other people's problems. I dabbled in corporate recruiting for about three weeks in the beginning of the year and applied for a few positions, none of which had the title "consultant" or "analyst" in description. But my fumbling around on Dartboard does not really count as hardcore corporate recruiting.
People who do corporate recruiting, or at least manage to get jobs out of corporate recruiting, apply to a gazillion positions, get rejected from half of them, go to first round interviews and then spend a week gallivanting across New England for second-round interviews. It doesn't look like fun.
Back in the day, it was easy to look at the '11s, '12s and '13s and see corporate recruiting as soul-selling. Back then, we were all excited about working during our first off-terms for no money at a nonprofit, or being semi-professional Facebookers or tweeters. I'm always surprised that "social media" counts as an actual profession. But no one wants to be an unpaid intern at 22. You can't help but admire the people going through corporate recruiting, because it is insanely difficult to have your life put together enough in the first three weeks of senior fall to be able to write cover letters, practice interviews and keep going to class and extracurriculars. Getting a "real" job is probably the most daunting task I have ever faced, which admittedly demonstrates how easy my life has been so far. Several of my parents' friends are currently freaking out about getting their precious offspring into esteemed universities, which causes me to look fondly back at the college application process. Applying to college, you really were just expected to be yourself. SAT scores and grades were important, but I'd like to believe that the college was looking for interesting, passionate and talented people. I've found that in job searching, we're encouraged to be honest about who we are and what we care about, but that's always followed by a gigantic caveat: there's an inescapable element of marketing and "selling yourself." There are workshops on how to "package" your college experience. It bums me out that a college experience is something that can be bundled up and sold to prospective employers.
But on the bright side, "I have an interview," like "orgo" or "rush," is a great excuse to get out of things. Wednesday, I got out of two classes and a lab because I had to get to Amherst for an interview. Short of contracting bubonic plague, I can't think of any other reason that would so easily get you out of a lab. I'd like to say that my interview prep consisted of me agonizing over wearing the right height heels and suitably feminine-but-not-too-sexy attire, but luckily for me, the interview was business casual.
