Scrubbing up for difficult meetings

I have an all day meeting scheduled towards the end of the month.  It is one of those where the day is pretty much guaranteed to end with a headache.  Worse still there seems to be some suggestion that it may be carried over into a video conference the next day.  That suggestion has not come from me.  As it is the hours for day one are such that I have made a note to pack emergency bananas for the inevitable blood sugar lull when the biscuits run out.

There will be a number of attendees.  It has the capacity to be loud, emotional, some playing to a gallery that does not exist and a lot of demanding others listen to viewpoints they would not agree with in a month of Sundays.  At some point someone  (most likely male) will tell someone (most likely female) to “calm down”.  This will not be conducive to agreement.  Someone will try and broker agreement by adopting the tone and volume of a doctor giving bad news.  This will be responded to in one or both of the following ways (a) them being told to speak up; and (b) others being asked what is/was being said.   Neither will be received well.

Someone, who clearly believes they are the brightest and best informed in the room, will take various opportunities to explain things to the assembled company.  Even where they may be correct, which is far from being a given, at least one and probably several of the assembled company will not take kindly to being spoken to as though they are depriving a village of its idiot.

Back in the day, ie 6 years ago, these events were more frequent though possibly not, the seemingly expected (by some), overrun.   There were those of us who had a selection of shoes under our desks for just such an event.  The higher the heel and the sharper the tailoring was a solid indicator as to how difficult the meeting was expected to be.

I probably don’t need to worry too much about the heel height for the, threatened, day two video conference, which is just as well since if I am, and I probably will be, wearing anything approaching the heel heights of yesteryear for day one, I can reasonably expect my feet to refuse to squeeze into anything less yielding than UGG boots the following day.  I will need something tailored on my top half that appears to reduce my shoulder width to something that fits within a laptop screen width.  There is, after all, only so much distance that can be put between the screen and oneself.  For a brief moment there I was wondering whether I could get a ring light between now and then and how, exactly it could be set up in my office (or cubby hole as one might call it in one’s less charitable moments).  This would be extreme, not least, as I do not want this meeting to go into a second day in any format, any shoes, with any particular lighting or the inevitable closed body language as I will have to scrunch my shoulders in to an, unnatural, screen’s width.  

I’m not saying I am vain here but as soon as the meeting became a diary fixture I went and had my hair cut.  I now look a little less like a spaniel than I did.  It is, however, March and there is nothing I can do about my finger nails, compost will be there.  Pockets are the answer.  I mean who shakes hands these days anyway?

…..and so to the actual problem.  What to wear to a meeting in 2026 for which smart would have been very much key the last time I actually did one of these.  The standard post pandemic jeans, top, blazer combo is not an option.  Neither is the emergency Planet suit and Boden shirt that has taken up residency in one of my desk drawers.

If someone is going to go away and tell their friends and anyone else who will listen that I am the stupidest person on the planet (and they will, ‘cos that’s what they do) I need to channel a best dressed, stupidest person on the planet vibe.  The weekend plan is established.  Every (traditional work) item in the wardrobe will be tried on, new combos paraded in various view full length mirrors and if my ego can survive that then it can certainly take on a day long meeting with a stash of bananas!