Abstract
This article contributes to the literatures on work identity regulation and aesthetic labor by discussing how organizational aesthetic guidelines and control have effects that go beyond appearances. Two contrasting case studies of uniforms within the service sector illustrate that – due to the (material) affordances and restraints of uniforms, their agency within client–worker interactions, and to their capacity to redefine workers’ perceptions of their interests – uniforms have the potential to regulate work identities and to mediate harassment and aggression at work. In line with performative and processual views on identity, the empirical material indicates that what uniforms do is not simply imposed by employers in a top–down manner. Rather, how uniforms shape work identities is situational, contingent, and dependent on other human and non-human actors within interactions. Employee aesthetics are thus not only an objective, but also a means of organizational control.
Introduction
Abdelhamid: I really had to get used to wearing a uniform. Because of the fabric itself, it used to be very thick and firm. And also I thought: ‘how will people look at me in this uniform?’. And in the beginning when people would come and ask me questions I really wished I wasn’t wearing the uniform, because I was afraid they would ask me things I didn’t know the answer to. Those were all things I had to get used to. And then you just become one with the uniform. You literally become one with the uniform.
One of the most difficult aspects of starting his new job as a train conductor for Abdelhamid was getting used to wearing his uniform. His explanation makes clear is that a standardized work outfit is both a ‘thing’ that makes itself known to the body wearing it, and yet that it is more than a simple garment. The material – thick and firm, in Abdelhamid’s case – might feel odd or particular and it may restrict certain postures or movements, while encouraging others. Its recognizability and symbolism partly shape the interactions and the performances that he engages in at work. Through repeated uniformed interactions, Abdelhamid has learned how to act when working in his uniform. In this sense, perhaps he has indeed ‘become one with his work uniform’, indicating that he has developed a sense of self at work that is coherent with his role as a train conductor.
How employees’ work identities can come to be aligned with their professional roles and organizational objectives has proven to be a fruitful question for understanding organizational control, as the body of literature spurred by Alvesson and Willmott’s (2002) study makes clear (e.g. Ainsworth and Hardy, 2009; Alvesson and Robertson, 2006; Brown, 2022; Collinson, 2003). While identity regulation is primarily studied as a discursive practice, recent contributions emphasize the significance of material elements and bodies (Iedema, 2007; Paring et al., 2017; Siciliano, 2016).
The literature on aesthetic labor has mapped out how organizations perform control over and monitor workers’ personal aesthetics (Witz et al., 2003). In the service sector and cultural industries, the personal styles and tastes of workers are central to the ‘product’ being sold, and therefore many studies look into organizations that rely heavily on their workers’ tastes and styles for their appeal to consumers. Although we know quite a bit about how personal styles are a basis for employee selection and about how they are monitored and managed (Rivera, 2012, 2016; Warhurst et al., 2009, 2012; Warhurst and Nickson, 2020; Williams and Connell, 2010), we know relatively little about the experiences of uniformed workers in the service sector, despite uniforms being common in this sector (Warhurst and Nickson, 2007: 107).
This study enhances understanding of organizational control and aesthetic labor by examining the experiences of uniformed workers in two contrasting service sector cases: train conductors and fine dining servers. Rather than viewing aesthetics solely as a managerial objective, I explore its role in aligning workers’ performances with company values. Self-presentation, encompassing appearance and actions, profoundly impacts emotions and self-perception (Hochschild, 1979; Miller, 2010). The empirical investigation, grounded in materiality studies, explores how uniforms shape performances at work. Addressing how uniforms regulate work identities, this article makes two contributions. First, it adds to the literature on organizational control by highlighting how uniforms enable performances that increase workers’ public service responsibilities, and how they hence, for instance, mediate harassment. Second, it contributes to the understanding of aesthetic labor and the aesthetization of work and society, illustrating how enforced work aesthetics serve as a top–down regulation technique extending beyond appearance (Kuipers et al., 2019; Sarpila et al., 2021; Widdows, 2018).
The regulation of work identities
How do organizations – un/intentionally and in/effectively – perform control over employees? The development within this field has moved from a focus on hierarchical and bureaucratic means toward the analysis of meaning-making and identity regulation (Alvesson and Willmott, 2002). The alignment of workers’ behaviors and beliefs with organizational goals can be partly achieved by influencing how workers view and position themselves, that is, by regulating their identities (Ainsworth and Hardy, 2009; Alvesson and Robertson, 2006; Collinson, 2003; Mears, 2015; Ocejo, 2017). This type of regulation varies in its intentionality and effectiveness; it is never full or absolute and workers are not passive recipients of managerial discourses and practices. However, discourses can indeed influence workers’ ‘identity work’, their work practices, and hence, their work identities.
While research on organizational identity regulation primarily explores discourses, other aspects, such as materiality and practices, also shape the performativity of identity (Iedema, 2007; Orlikowski and Scott, 2015). Despite their emphasis on the fact that identity regulation at work is not simply a top–down process imposed by management, Alvesson & Wilmott’s approach does not give account for the ways in which agency and power work in non-discursive, non-cognitive, and routinized ways. In order to obtain a more complete picture of organizational control and identity regulation in work, materiality and practices should also be included in the analysis (Hultin, 2019; Reckwitz, 2002).
Recent studies have recognized the significance of objects and matter in shaping work practices and identities. For instance, Paring et al. (2017) highlight the role of a whiteboard in a transformation program, influencing bodily performances and practices. And Siciliano (2016) showcases how material artifacts in a music recording studio enhance the appeal of work, contributing to employees’ perception of their professional identity. This ‘aesthetic enrollment’, a strategy working through sensory experiences of material, emphasizes the role of materiality in organizational control.
While work clothing, specifically uniforms, affects workers’ sensory experiences, they have received limited attention in organizational control studies. One notable exception is the study by Timmons and East (2011), which illustrates how uniforms contribute to professional identities and how being forced to wear a generic uniform can even damage professional identity and pride. The present study explores top–down imposed uniforms in service work, contributing to a comprehensive understanding of materiality in organizational control. Uniforms are both symbols and things that play a role in (re)producing work practices in interaction with workers, and other human and non-human actors. Both the symbolism and materiality of what people wear at work are connected to practices and might therefore partly shape what happens in organizations (Hultin, 2019), often aligning with managerial expectations.
Materiality, affordances, and uniforms
Contrary to Western lay thinking, which often sees clothing as a reflection of an essential inner core (Miller, 2010), this study emphasizes the reciprocal relationship where appearances not only reflect but actively shape the ‘self’. Wardrobe studies and research on materiality reveal that clothing plays a role in shaping individuals (Klepp and Bjerck, 2014; Miller, 2010; Woodward, 2007). This influence extends beyond symbolic aspects to encompass the material properties of garments. For example, Miller’s (2010) examination of the sari in India highlights how its physical properties shape practices, interactions, and the experience of being a woman in India.
Similarly, the concept of affordances, originally developed by Gibson (1977) refers to how objects and environments provide potential actions and opportunities (Fayard and Weeks, 2014). Materiality partly determines affordances, as it shapes the potential actions and opportunities that an object or environment can provide This perspective on clothing and appearances underscores why uniforms in particular are interesting for further exploring how identities are regulated at work. After all, if the material–semiotic aspects of clothing shape practices and interactions and therefore experiences of self, it would logically follow that clothing prescribed by organizations partly shape practices and experiences of self at work.
Organizational dress is, however, predominantly understood symbolically and as a means to reflect identities and meanings (Pratt and Rafaeli, 1997; Rafaeli and Pratt, 1993). More specifically, the literature on what uniforms do to those wearing it mostly pay attention to their disciplining effects – for instance, to how uniform coerce the wearer into embodying institutional power (Fussel, 2002; Joseph and Alex, 1972; McVeigh, 1997), to their ability to demarcate who is part of the group and who is not (Tynan and Godson, 2019), and to their capacity to enforce organizational hierarchies (Crane and Bovone, 2006; Rafaeli and Pratt, 1993). The present study builds forth upon this in two ways: (1) it takes the role of the materiality into account and (2) rather than focusing on the ‘extremes’ of discipline and subversion, it explores the different and subtle ways in which uniforms play a role in identity formation at work.
Cases and methods
This study draws on in-depth interviews with 23 workers 1 from two distinct service sector occupations in the Netherlands: train conductors and servers in high-end hospitality. These cases were chosen for their contrasting nature rather than a structural comparison, providing insights into uniforms across diverse contexts.
The 12 train conductors interviewed worked for the same railroad company, navigating the intricacies of the privatized railway system in the Netherlands. Their tasks range from ensuring safe departures to handling incidents, checking tickets, and, significantly, being visibly present for passengers. The physically demanding nature of the job involves walking extensively and facing potential aggression. Notably, their uniform resembles a traditional police attire, featuring navy-colored trousers, a shirt, a neck tie (for men), a silk-like scarf (for women), a vest, and a jacket, with an option for a more informal variant. The conductors’ uniforms are made of durable and wear-resistant fabrics that provide protection against the typically uncomfortable weather conditions in the Netherlands, and they also instilled a sense of sturdiness and safety according to my informants. The 11 waiters interviewed worked in fine dining restaurants in Amsterdam, spanning various styles and culinary focuses. These establishments share a higher culinary division, offering chef’s menus with prices ranging from approximately 70 to over 200 euros. The waiters, mostly with hospitality studies backgrounds, work long shifts, and the restaurants exhibit a wide range of uniform styles, from formal black suit-like outfits to trendy designer shorts and black t-shirts, with distinct uniforms for men and women. The intentional contrast between the two cases enriches the exploration of uniforms in different contexts, offering a nuanced understanding. The diversity in material and symbolic functions contributes to a comprehensive insight (Flyvbjerg, 2006).
Respondents were contacted through LinkedIn, and referrals led to three additional interviews. Train conductor interviews often took place right after their shifts, within private offices in train stations or on trains. The train conductors were all still wearing their uniform, which facilitated talking about it (Klepp and Bjerck, 2014). Restaurant employee interviews took place usually before their shifts at coffee bars. These workers were usually not in uniform, but did bring their uniform and pictures of themselves or co-workers in the uniform. For all interviews the same topic list was used, covering: description of work activities, work history, type of contract, elaborate discussion the uniform (its elements, material, feel to the touch and movements, comfort, fit, aesthetics, other aesthetic guidelines, where to change into the uniform), reflection on their definition of a job well done, and on what makes their work hard/easy/fun/satisfying.
Data analysis follows Tavory & Timmerman’s (2014) abductive analysis method. The iterative process involved refining the research question through multiple rounds of interviews and revisiting transcribed data. After initial open coding, subsequent rounds of interviews focused on identity regulation. The interplay between literature, data, and fieldwork informed open coding, leading to categories that formed the basis for structured coding and subsequent analysis and discussion.
Analyses
Uniforms in interactions
Self-identities are (re)created in social interactions, as theorized by Mead (1934). Uniforms contribute to shaping behaviors and performances through visibility and recognizability, prompting individuals to respond to perceived expectations. For instance, train conductor Anna intervenes in certain situations, influenced by what she believes others anticipate. During our interview, I accompanied her on the train for an afternoon during the Covid pandemic, observing her repeated reminders to passengers about wearing face masks correctly. Despite personal indifference to mask adherence, she acknowledged doing so because she perceives it as passengers’ expectations. This theme of aligning performance with perceived expectations emerged consistently in her discussions about her role as a train conductor:
People should be able to see that I work here, it helps go get authority. When I say something, people respond differently than when someone not wearing a uniform is saying something. If I’m in the train as a civilian I won’t say anything about someone putting their feet on the seat, because then I’m like: who am I [to say something]? (. . . ) And the moment I’m wearing this [uniform] I will say something, because that’s also what other passengers expect of me.
Anna explains why she tells passengers to oblige the rules in the train: not because she herself finds it important or due to her supervisor’s instructions, but because she feels that other passengers expect it of her. Anna’s work performances are not a simple consequence of hierarchical orders nor do they simply follow from her wearing a uniform. Rather, her work performances are created by an interplay of people and objects.
Considering the risks of the work, this becomes pertinent. What is it that makes conductors feel responsible? What motivates them to make their rounds during their shifts? Traditional studies of organizational control might point to hierarchical control. Although the conductors do have train managers that encourage them to perform these tasks, these supervisors are generally not present on the train, and they are not allowed to evaluate the workers’ performances based on measures such as the number of fines written out. My data point out that the uniform plays a key role by making the conductors feel visible and responsible by looking at themselves through the eyes of others. This is not only a negative experience – uniforms also afford certain performances, as Dolores explains:
(. . . ) it actually bothers me more when I’m not in uniform. I have to keep a low profile then, so it’s the other way around. I find it hard not to say something about people’s when I’m in my civilian clothes. When I’m in my work clothes I get to say something.
Dolores feels that wearing her uniform helps in having the authority to correct other people. When she is wearing her own clothes – which she, like Anna, interestingly calls ‘civilian clothes’ – she expects that others will think that it is not up to her to intervene. When in uniform, she feels that she is allowed to say something, illustrating again how the interactions of the uniform and people can encourage certain behavior. These interactions can afford certain performances and they can also create a feeling of responsibility. Hospitality worker Madelief, for instance, only feels responsible for guests coming in when in uniform: [Madelief describes putting on her uniform as ‘turning a switch’]
Can you describe what that switch is like?
It’s like: ‘we’re working now’. So sort of action mode, and if I haven’t changed my clothes yet I feel less responsible for the guests coming in. [. . . ] I feel sort of like the people wearing the outfit are the ones who are responsible – they are the ones who should help that lady with the walker get over the threshold of the door.
The object of the uniform plays a role in interactions in which workers come to feel responsibility and to behave accordingly. Hence, specifically in service work, the uniform – together with clients and workers themselves – is part of a network in which expectations, interactions, and identities are shaped. This shows that these workers’ practices and interactions are not enforced top–down, but that they are shaped by the uniform and the expectations it brings about. So, it is not the uniform itself that leads to certain feelings and performances; rather, within networks and interactions uniforms can ‘do’ different things.
Uniforms and working bodies
A vivid example of how the material of a uniform can shape work practices and the sense of self at work is provided by Tijn. He works 5 nights a week in a Michelin star restaurant with a quite traditional and chic style, as reflected in the black uniform for male workers with its leather shoes, trousers, and jacket buttoned up all the way up the neck. The uniform is made of sturdy and stiff material, restricting the movements of waiters’ bodies. Tijn’s personal style contrasts with this formal attire; when we meet for an interview over coffee at 11 am he is dressed in shorts and a wrinkly floral shirt, buttoned up halfway. For him, as an – in his own words – extraverted and hyperactive person, the uniform is important for his performances and experiences of self at work:
What was it that you had to get used to [regarding wearing the uniform]?
You have long sleeves, so sometimes you might think that you can make a certain movement, and then your buttons brush against a glass – that sort of thing. That can be annoying. And for the rest, you sort of have to get used to it, because the way you stand is different in that kind of clothing. If you wear a suit then you stand and move differently from when you wear jeans and a shirt. [. . . ] Your posture becomes a bit more neat as well, of course. I think that helps. It takes some getting used to.
So it helps you stand up straight?
Tijn:Yes. And also just your movements, you pay more attention to them. Because the things you can normally just do, how you walk, you have to pay attention to them. So you start moving differently.
How does the way you walk change? Can you describe that?
[. . . ] It’s not as loose, that’s for sure. That’s also what I like about it. We don’t have to walk with our hands behind our backs, not at all, but you also shouldn’t put your hands in your pocket. And because you’re wearing a suit, with all the buttons closed.. for me that turns a switch. I move differently, I am someone different on the floor there than I am here.
The material properties of the uniform influence Tijn’s posture and movements, which is partly due to the straightness of the cut and the rigidity of the fabric, making it hard to slouch or move freely. These restrictions constantly remind Tijn of his body and movements. As such, through posture and ways of moving, the materiality encourages work performance that is in line with the style of the restaurant. Similarly, the material properties of uniforms can also discourage certain performances. Albert explains how the quite informal uniform – consisting of a pair of black suit pants and a dark colored shirt made of soft cotton – of the organization where he is currently employed allows a higher pace, compared with the traditional and formal uniform in which he used to work:
You can just work freely in it [an informal uniform]. I’m quite used to a three-piece suit uniform, which can make you feel very warm when you’re working hard. You know, because you’re wearing a three-piece suit and you want to take off those layers, but you can’t. That’s very uncomfortable. And it [his current uniform] is made in such a way that you can give it one’s all, you just keep going. (. . . ) The three-piece suit is more common in classic, traditional restaurants, where they have more staff. So then there are higher costs for personnel, but there’s a different norm regarding the physical work, it’s not so heavy.
In fine dining restaurants workers balance meeting up to the high standard of service while doing physically demanding work. Particularly the traditional, formal uniform can inform workers on how they are performing through physical sensations, as the overall stress caused by this makes the uniform feel uncomfortable:
Yeah you get used to it. In the beginning it’s really warm. The fabric is not breathing.
What kind of fabric is it [made of]?
Sort of jacket-like fabric, but you wear it completely closed of course. So it gets warm pretty easily when you’re running. It also has to do with in the beginning, when you’re not really sure what you are doing exactly, you get this panicky way of doing things. I notice now that when I work more calmly [it’s not so warm].
The uniform gives off information to Tijn about how he is doing his job. When everything is under control, the uniform is not too warm on his body. However, when he loses control and feels he is lagging behind, the uniform makes it physically known to him. The material properties of the uniform contribute to the atmosphere and service that these luxury restaurants aim to convey. They discourage stressed and hurried performances, continuously reminding employees of the standard expected of them.
The physical sensation of the uniform can partly shape how workers feel, what they do and how they do it. As illustrated, this may help achieve a certain style of service. However, it can also form a hindrance, as exemplified by Minke, who works for an upscale hotel with several in-house restaurants. She started out working in the hotel’s classic formal restaurant with a Michelin star until she was asked to work shifts in the newly opened informal restaurant within the hotel. Still wearing the same uniform made it difficult for her to achieve the informal ‘loose’ style of service the management was looking for:
There was sort of a transition, because within [the hotel] they opened up a new restaurant. It had a certain concept and it was also a bit more loose. I would stand there in my tight, air hostess-like suit, so it was quite a transition for me. (. . . )
What was it that made it hard to find that more informal loose style?
I was looking a bit stiff, and it was also specifically within the walls of the hotel where I was trained [to achieve a formal style of service]. So for me it felt like . . . I was standing up straight, which was also because of the heels [I was wearing]. You make this ticking sound, you’re making noise, your hair is pulled back really tight. And in practice there was some mixing during the day, so I would be standing there in a different outfit than the rest of the staff.
Although the effects are not as desired by the management, Minke’s experiences again make clear that uniforms, and their material properties, have consequences for how workers use and experience their bodies and, consequently, their work performances. It is interesting to note how the transition to a loose and informal style of service was hindered by the fact that it took place within ‘the wall of the hotel’ where Minke was trained to perform a different style of service. Apparently, for her, it can be hard to change a style of performance when the context and material objects remain the same.
Moreover, the uniform and its material properties can impact workers’ perceptions of their body size. The railroad company does a yearly health check to their employees, during which body weight is often a topic of scrutiny. Although workers are not forced to lose weight and although the uniforms can be ordered in larger sizes, the company nevertheless makes it clear to their employees that being overweight is undesirable. Tyler and Abbott’s (1998) study on airline cabin crew shows how workers monitor both their own and coworkers’ body size in order to fit company standards. My interviews with train conductors, in addition, illustrate that uniforms themselves can play a role in monitoring body size. Some of the workers I spoke with experience their uniform as a yardstick for their body size: they should always wear the same size uniform and it should not be too tight, and otherwise it is a sign that they need to lose weight. Of course, the norm of slimness is not exclusive to work organizations, but it does appear that the uniform can be a material reminder of and a tool to enforce this societal norm. The uniform makes workers aware of their body size on a daily basis, as train conductor Caroline illustrates:
As you can see, I’m wearing a skirt. Officially, that’s not in the catalogue anymore, we’re actually supposed to wear trousers. But I feel good wearing a skirt. And to be totally honest, I don’t fit into my trousers right now. I am punishing myself, I refuse to order bigger ones.
Caroline is wearing a navy skirt that she bought herself and that is officially not part of the uniform. The reason for this is that her uniform trousers have becoming too tight after gaining weight during the Covid pandemic. Caroline always wears the same size uniform and refuses to order a bigger size, because that would mean accepting her larger body. Her personal clothes are not as uniform in the sense that some items are a bit larger or more stretchy, allowing her body weight to fluctuate. Hence, the uniform functions as a yardstick and is disciplining in the sense that it encourages her to lose weight.
Redefining interests
Uniforms can, moreover, affect work identities by redefining workers’ perceptions of their interests. The interviews indicate two ways in which this works: (1) by creating a feeling of unity and (2) by encouraging a feeling of being a representative for the collective.
One of the most appealing aspects of working in fine dining, according to my interviewees, is the feeling of unity with co-workers. When I asked my respondents to recall a moment of joy or fulfillment at work, they almost unanimously referred to moments of ‘collective flow’ – evenings during which everyone was attuned to achieve the best service, when they worked together in a fluent way, sensing what needed to be done almost without using words:
When we’re synchronized, you know. You could be standing somewhere talking to a table [of guests] and you’ve just taken their plates. So you’re standing there with a stack of plates, and then someone passes by and takes them away, you know. They take it to the back and I can stay there and talk for a bit, those kinds of things.
For many servers in fine dining, their most pleasant work experiences are when they and their colleagues work together as a team toward the same goal, that is, giving their clients an outstanding service and dining experience. The team should work together in a fluent way (‘we’re everywhere, approaching our guests from all sides’, as Sofie describes enthusiastically), communicating without words needed, and all putting their full effort in. This feeling of unity and flow, perhaps best understood as Durkheimian collective effervescence (Durkheim, 1912), is enhanced by everyone wearing the same uniform. Of course, the uniform in itself is not a sufficient condition for creating this feeling of unity and the point here is not to discern the effects of the uniform from other conditions. Nevertheless, in many interviews the attunement of bodies and movements and the feeling of unity and collective flow was often related to wearing the same work outfit. Take, for instance, Madelief, who experienced resistance from her peers when she was not wearing a uniform at work:
Once I was wearing my own clothes, because I was starting [very early] to get everything ready. I did that in my own clothes, which was fine, but at some point that was really not appreciated by co-workers [starting later]. They would come to the floor fully dressed [in uniform] and I was walking around in my own clothes. That caused a bit of friction [. . . ]. I did really get the feeling like I should go and change right now.
What was it that caused that feeling?
Yeah I guess it was partly not fitting in. Getting to work and getting into a mode of production [‘productiemodus’], being a unity together and everyone being equally responsible, and if someone is not changed yet [into the uniform] that might be disruptive for . . . also because in hospitality the pressure is quite high. [. . . ] It’s all in the moment and ‘being on’ [aanstaan] and lots of communication with each other. I guess it strengthens the feeling of being a team, all wearing the same thing, really like: we’re all together in this action mode.
For Madelief, the uniform is important for creating a sense of unity at work. This unity is important, because the pressure to work hard and to perform is high, and because everyone should feel like they all give their best together and are equally responsible to work toward the same goals. Interestingly, both the pressure to put on the uniform and the pressure to work hard do not directly come from someone higher up in the hierarchy. Rather, it is the feeling of unity and lack of hierarchy, partly due to everyone wearing the exact same uniform, that is disciplining.
A second way in which uniforms can affect workers’ perceptions of their interests and hence their work identities is by increasing the feeling of being a representative of the group. As discussed in the first section on uniforms and interactions, the uniform brings about certain expectations. Because people literally wear it on their bodies – rather than use it as an artifact (Siciliano, 2016) – it can play a role in how workers feel like they should behave – also outside of work when in uniform. Consider, for instance, Marco, who feels he should oblige to societal rules when he is in uniform:
Does it feel different when you’re recognizable [as a train conductor]?
Yes it does really. It’s very funny, because of course before this I always had work that did not require a uniform. So during my training I had just received my uniform (. . . ) and I jumped on my bike to go to Amersfoort. There are a lot of traffic lights in Amersfoort that are red when it just doesn’t make any sense, you know, you just keep on cycling. But now I thought: ‘Yeah, I’m wearing my uniform now, so I shouldn’t go through the red light’.
Remco normally runs the red lights, and he sees no problem in doing this. When wearing his uniform, however, he feels like he should oblige to the formal rules and wait for the light to go green. It is interesting to note that during his cycling trip to work he is not actually at work yet, and that there is no one checking whether he is behaving according to the rules. The mere presence of the uniform of the body – and the knowledge that others will recognize for which company he works – makes him feel like his behavior should be irreproachable. As such, the tendency to act according to certain norms is amplified by the uniform.
A similar tendency can be observed in how conductors deal with verbal abuse from passengers. Anna, for instance, bases her response to passengers not on her own norms or feelings, but on what she believes is the company’s norm of what is acceptable behavior. In her case, this means she intervenes in situations that she claims she personally does not find very offensive:
(. . . ) there’s a lot of swearing. You can let that pass, but they shouldn’t try that on me. And also when they start threatening me: ‘I’m gonna call my friends and they’re gonna kill you’, then you have to intervene. Even if that’s not your own personal boundary yet. It’s just not acceptable. As [organisation] you can’t let them mess with you like that. (. . . ) There’s an [organisation] boundary and your own boundary, but you should always make sure you intervene at the [organisation] boundary.
In situations outside of work, Anna would prefer to walk away if someone should insult her. At work, however, she feels that when she is insulted, the whole organization is affected, and that she should not let that happen. At work, she does not act upon her own norms, values, and emotions, but on what she believes to be the organization’s limits to what is acceptable behavior of clients. The uniform enhances this process, as it is the visibility of her as a representative of the organization that encourages her to act as representing the organization.
The train conductors experience that, when they are in uniform, they are not only ‘themselves’, but also a representative of the company for which they are working. This requires a different performance of them. Interestingly, this is not something that they are taught, and there is no one checking whether the adapt their behavior when in uniform. Still, they feel responsibility toward the group when in uniform, which often aligns with company values. This shows how the uniform plays a part in redefining how workers feel they should act.
Shifting personal boundaries
The risk of aggression and violence is part of the daily work experiences of train conductors. Although violent situations do not occur frequently, all my respondents have experience with it and always take into account the possibility of passengers turning to aggression. This risk means that train conductors must negotiate whether they are willing to sacrifice themselves or leave the organization. The conductors do not receive physical training nor are they authorized to physically intervene. What they do learn during their training is to not take insults and aggression personally, as Thomas explains:
My workplace supervisor told me: ‘If people scold, then it’s not actually aimed at you, but at your suit [uniform]’ haha. And that’s something I always remind myself of and it’s just really how it actually is. I’m sure that if someone yells at me because the train is delayed or whatever reason they are angry . . . if we walk off and I would see them again an hour later they wouldn’t even recognize me.
Yes, so it’s not personal then?
No and that makes a difference. What I’m saying, I really would have thought it would bother me more. In my own life when people are angry with me or when I fall out with someone, that bothers me.
Thomas finds comfort in perceiving insults and threats as not personal but aimed at his uniform. In his training he has learned to use the de-individualizing symbolism of the uniform as a tool to neutralize experiences that otherwise would have bothered him. However, there are risks in using the uniform for this. First, by implying verbal abuse is simply part of the job and should not affect you personally, this violence is normalized. This encourages workers to shift their own boundaries of what deem acceptable behavior. Second, this reasoning fails to acknowledge that threatening situations at work might not be personal, but can still lead to dangerous situations. Caroline illustrates this by explaining how she de-escalated a violent situation:
(. . . ) Is that an issue for you, not being tall?
That’s sometimes an issue, but it can also work in your advantage. It doesn’t evoke aggression, I’m not that big. Once there was this [guy who was] 2 by 2 meters and he came really really close to me, and then I thought: uh oh, this is it..
Is there anything you can do then?
I looked up to him and said: ‘Look at me sir, this isn’t going to work. One punch from you and I’m gone’ (laughs). And then he laughed, fortunately. Yeah at that moment I thought oooooo this isn’t going to work. That was the most threatening situation that happened to me. I was powerless, yes.
Caroline discusses a situation in which a passenger was angry because of a train delay. He directs his angers toward her because, to him, she represents the railway company. By pointing out to him that she is small and not able to defend herself should he turn to physical violence, she emphasizes that she is a person, and not just a uniform. The emphasis on her physical traits helps to make the symbolism of the uniform less visible.
The uniform is a tool to normalize aggression at work, teaching workers that insults should not be taken personally. In addition, material properties of the uniform normalize the threat of violence. The neckties and scarves have safety clips: should someone pull on them they immediately click open. Although this might protect the workers from suffocation, it does not defend them against a person willing to go that far. The ‘safety’ clip in any case makes clear that people pulling on your tie might be part of the job and – perhaps misleadingly – gives off the impression of protection or safety.
A similar shift in personal boundaries can be found for hospitality uniforms. As discussed, workers sometimes feel like they are playing a certain role when working in uniform, encouraging them to accept behavior they would otherwise not accept. Madelief explains how wearing a uniform made her feel like she was playing a part, which, in turn, induced her to accept behavior that clearly overstepped boundaries:
I sort of felt good wearing a suit like that and with full make up, I was sort of . . . I felt like someone else. I just played that part. And I notice now that I’m getting a bit older and looking at the world differently, I guess you can be yourself anywhere. You don’t have to play a part. But that’s what I was taught in that kind of fancy restaurant: the customer is king and you’re nothing, kind of like that. You have to always be subservient. (. . . )
So you felt like you had to go along in that?
Yes, I’ve really experienced some bizarre things where people would almost sexually assault you (. . . ). At the time I was really young and I would think: this is not cool, but it’s probably just part of the job, you know.
In sum, the interview material shows how the uniform contributes to workers accepting certain behaviors from others. Workers feel encouraged to accept harassment and aggression at work they would otherwise not accept. The analysis illustrates three ways in which the uniform enables this: (1) through the repertoire that verbal aggression is not personal when in uniform, so it should not be troubling; (2) the materiality underlines the possibility of people turning to physical aggression and promises to defuse aggression; (3) the symbolism of the uniform encourages workers to play a submissive role. As such, uniforms have the potential to shift workers’ boundaries of what they deem acceptable behavior.
Conclusion
This article investigated into how workers in service occupations experience their uniform. Building on the understanding that clothing – and aesthetics in general – are felt both on and beyond the skin, it addresses the question of worker experiences of standardized and top–down enforced work aesthetics. I found that, indeed, a standardized set of clothing does not only affect how workers look, but it also affects and regulates their work identities and practices. This study contributes to the existing literatures on work identity regulation and aesthetic labor by combining these two fields of research, thus showing empirically how aesthetic control is not only an objective but also a means of organizational control.
More specifically, the empirical data innovatively illustrates four ways in which uniforms in service work regulate work identities: (1) Uniforms make workers feel visible and recognizable, which encourages them to see themselves through the eyes of others, and to respond in ways that they believe to be the expectations of others. Hence, the uniform as an object and symbol plays a role in interactions in which workers come to feel responsible and to behave accordingly, making them part of the networks in which expectations, interactions, and identities are shaped – often in line with managerial expectations; (2) materially, the work uniform can feel different from the clothes service workers wear outside of work. Due to physical properties such as stiffness, tightness, and warmness, workers are reminded of their bodies, of how they move, and of the performances that are expected of them at work. Therefore, uniforms can regulate how workers experience and move their bodies, aligning them with company values. Moreover, the standardized and often tight fit can function as a yardstick for body size; (3) by encouraging feelings of unity and of being a representative for the collective, uniforms can, moreover, affect work identities by redefining workers’ perceptions of their interest; and (4) following from this, uniforms can even encourage workers to accept risks and behaviors from others they would otherwise not accept and can hence shift workers’ boundaries of what they deems acceptable work circumstances. As such, uniforms can be a mediator of harassment at work.
This investigation illustrates that what uniforms ‘do’ is situational, contingent, and played out in interactions. Clearly, my analyses agree with earlier studies on organizational control that employers cannot simply impose work identities on employees through uniforms. Nonetheless, the data confirm that there are a number of ways in which organizational control can be performed through the material and symbolism of the uniform.
But this study also has more specific implications. First, it extends our understanding of organizational identity regulation as both a discursive and material practice by highlighting material worn on the body. Even more so than material objects in the workplace, clothing is constantly felt and used, affecting how workers perceive and use their bodies, their sense of visibility and responsibility, and how they deal with risk at work. Second, this investigation illustrates how organizational aesthetic guidelines and control have effects that go beyond appearances. The body of literature on aesthetics labor shows how the increasing importance of and emphasis on aesthetics in work can be a source of exclusions, inequalities, how it leads to extra unpaid work for (aspiring) workers, and how this surplus value is extracted by employers rather than coming to the benefit of workers. The current study contributes by showing how aesthetic guidelines and regulations can even affect how people experience themselves at work, how they perceive their own interests, and how they deal with harassment and aggression, adding to a fuller understanding of the consequences of the aesthetization of work.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
The author thanks Kobe De Keere and Marguerite van den Berg for their expert advice, support, and invaluable feedback. She is also thankful to the participants of the Work + Culture workshop at the University of Amsterdam in October 2022 for their active engagement, feedback, and insightful discussions that have impacted the analyses presented in this article. Finally, she expresses her sincere gratitude to the anonymous reviewers, for their valuable and constructive feedback, which greatly contributed to the improvement of this manuscript.
Authors’ note
Institutional affiliation at the time of conducting the research and writing the manuscript: University of Amsterdam (Department of Sociology) and Amsterdam University of Applied Sciences (Faculty of Business and Economics).
Funding
The author disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: This study is part of the project on aesthetic labor and aesthetic capital in the Dutch creative industry and interactive services, financed by the Dutch Research Council (NWO) (Project No. 023.011.040).
