I posted a week back about a certain resume that made its way to my inbox some time ago that remains a valued source of delight. Favored commenter London_Calling was thus inspired to share this little tidbit from another jobseeker out there in the world, who introduced herself thusly:
What my resume does not reveal is my professional demeanor and appearance. In a business environment, these qualities are of the utmost importance in dealing with clients as well as co-workers. In me, you’ll discover a reliable, detail-oriented, and extremely hard-working associate; one who will serve as a model to encourage other staff members to demonstrate the same high standard of professionalism.
Alright, it’s a tad arrogant, but I like her forthrightness. She expects a high standard of professionalism from herself and those she works with, and believes in the importance of presentation – got it. This is no bad thing and, personally speaking, if the rest of her CV fit the needs of the job for which I was hiring, I’d be intrigued.
I expect the potential employer who received this resume felt the same way. Unfortunately, when her name was Google searched, one of the first things to pop up was this image from her Facebook profile:
Now, look, there is nothing terribly wrong with this picture. She’s having a blast, appears to be attending some sort of ’80s-themed party (one assumes), and there is no casual drug use or errant private part on display. Nonetheless, it is somewhat jarring in confluence with her clearly stated belief in professional representation.
I’m not slamming this woman – this woman is us, and I have little doubt that she turns up at the office as advertised, thoughtfully and professionally clothed. If she wants to wear a topknot and a satin skirt with an elastic waistband on the weekends, good for her (this is, in fact, a much nicer outfit that I regularly sport on my own weekends). The more I think about it, the worse I feel for her. This is not representative of her workplace attire! But there is no internet search divide between professional and personal, and one can be entirely and unfairly wrong-footed by a much-tagged photo of a wild ’80s Night (or a pleasant evening in a strip club in Thailand, as one male friend of mine recently discovered).
Feel free to share fears, experiences, or general bitching regarding this modern scourge.