Not long ago, I had my third interview with a company which I really liked. I got a good feeling from the people, the environment, the work they did, and the reputation they had. Unwisely, I pulled an all-nighter the day before in order to wrap up some assignments and had managed to only sneak in two or three hours of sleep (after being up for 40 hours straight) before having to wake up to go to the airport. I worked on my little presentation, slept a bit on the plane, and when I arrived at my destination, changed in the airport into my navy pinstripe suit, a white dress shirt with french cuffs, and my black Kenneth Cole shoes (not my favorites, but I figured nobody would be looking at my feet much). I wore no tie, to “dress it down” bit.

Frankly, I like clothes but they have always been a low priority for me given my financial circumstances. Of course I’d like to look more hip and stylish if I had the money, but I’d rather eat and drink well, entertain myself, go out, and buy books than worry too much about clothes. Shoes were the one area where I tended to spend more and add to my collection, so I’d be well-soled for the right occasion.

The navy pinstripe suit is my most expensive suit. I think I paid $600 for it at Nordstrom. It’s conservative. I hate the pants. Honestly, I don’t really like it. I’ve never liked suits. To me, they don’t represent me well, they are stuffy, too conservative, and those pants… geez… those pants are awful. The pleats, the tapered legs… slacks of oppression! These were at least tailored to be a bit looser than my other suit pants, which are now too tight anyway because I’ve put on weight in grad school.

Anyhow, people have always generally advised me that it’s better to be overdressed for an interview than underdressed, so even though I don’t necessarily like this suit, I wore it because otherwise it’d be my more normal gab! garb: baggy jeans, sneakers, and a sweater or hoodie.

The problem was, in this particular case, I think I made the mistake of overdressing. You see, everyone in the room was dressed more casually. This was a design firm after all. And this made me acutely self-aware and self-conscious. Plus, suits are restrictive and don’t condone relaxation and ease. The result — and maybe it’s just me because I can be an uptight person at times — was that I became that suit: stiff, conservative, boring, undistinguished.

My friend Cindy said it best when she said it looked like I was “dressed for a bar-mitzvah.” She was exactly right.

To make matters worse, I realized after I left the interview (which I thought had gone fairly well) that I had forgotten to remove a transparent plastic clip from the collar that the dry cleaner had put in there. In my sleep-deprived stupor, I hadn’t noticed. What an idiot!

Well, I didn’t get the job, but I did find out from the woman who had been my point of contact that the team had found me to be uptight, stiff, and uncomfortable in my outward appearance. It was reflected in my posture, my voice, and my presence. They had trouble reconciling the person before them with the impression they had of me from my work, my website, and my blog.

I’ve rectified some of this problem. Before my next interview, I went to Zara and bought a jacket and shirt that were more “me.” I wore nice jeans and this shirt and jacket. I dressed myself up, but stayed true to my personality.

It sounds stupid and superficial, but all this stuff matters. It shouldn’t. Had they known me better at that other company, they would have known that I’m actually a very witty, clever, funny, and silly person at times. I have a dry sense of humor and a monotonous voice, but there’s much more below the surface than I generally reveal. Maybe the clothes do make the man. I wore my Zara clothes to my next interview, and it went much better. I think I’ll even get a job offer from them.

Is it really that simple?