I looked up at my life the other day and wondered how I got where I am. I was busy working--and boy, was I working!--while also fretting about making sure the dog got his walk and dinner got made...and I found myself thinking, "gosh, the house needs cleaning in a major way!" And I felt very alone, like these worries were all mine, as though if I didn't worry about these things and do something about them, they'd never get taken care of.

I'm not sure when it became my job to take on all of these worries myself. This isn't a case of me discovering I am trapped in an oppressive sexist marriage. It's really psychological--I feel that I am the only one who CAN worry about these things, who CAN take care of them. I am weighed down by these weird gender expectations, and the only person I have to blame is myself!

I thought my generation was supposed to be free of all this gender baggage. Our men would be free of it too, and because of this lightened load, we, as women, would be able to pursue our dreams and ambitions without impediment.

Hah! What a load of hooey.

As a woman, I think I struggle more than my mother did. My mother threw her hands up and said, "Screw it! I'm going to do what people think I shouldn't, and propriety be damned!" It must have felt very freeing to her, to be able to accept that she was on a different path. I don't think my generation has the same opportunities to be unburdened. Today, it's not only acceptable, it's expected that we will "have it all"--the great career AND the equitable marriage AND the nice home AND AND AND.

Having it all, though, is harder than it looks. Not because it's not possible--I firmly believe that it is--but because we hinder ourselves from either enjoying it or getting it all. We guilt ourselves into thinking we don't deserve it all. We convince ourselves we have to give certain things up to get it all. We put off starting our families until we already have it all, so we don't feel as guilty about being working moms, or about taking maternity leave too early (and looking bad to management for taking maternity leave too early).

These are the wrong worries! We do deserve it all, and we don't have to give up the important things to have it all. And having it all doesn't mean the same thing to every woman--and it almost definitely doesn't mean the same thing to women as men.

Normally, I hardly wear any make-up.

During OCI, I wear it every day.

Normally, I live in jeans.

During OCI, I wear a skirt suit every day.

Normally, I strive for comfort over all else.

During OCI, I wear heels and panty hose and skirts.

Why? Well, some part of it is compliance with business formal attire, but some part of it is also wanting to look my best for an interview. I could wear a suit with pants, but experience tells me a skirt is generally going to be more successful. I could wear flats, but heels look better.

On some level, it's just part of the game. It's why we print our resumes on fancy ecru paper, why we smile until our faces fall off, why we carry around the snazzy leather portfolios.

It's worth recognizing, though, that most of my interviewers are male. At some point, does wanting to look nice--which by definition means comporting with traditional definitions of feminine beauty--start to challenge our feminist values?

Then again, is there an argument to be made that change is achieved within a profession, such that slapping on some lipstick today is worth the chance to join a firm and work to address the gender disparities in the future?

I suppose it's also a collective action problem: it would be impossible to get all women at all law schools around the country to agree to reject certain antiquated expectations, particularly since not all women agree on what these may be.

Of course, the old stand-by response is to wear whatever makes you happy because you don't want to work someplace where heels and make-up decide who gets callbacks. That's a bit naive, though--people are regularly judged based on their appearance for all sorts of things, and women more so. Not to mention that you'd never know anyways, unless you risked a few interviews of your own showing up make-up free and in flats--something I don't imagine many of us are interested in testing.

And, frankly, everyone would agree in principle with that platitude, but I have trouble accepting that every single woman at my law school simply prefers hose and heels to the more comfortable options for business formal attire.

So I wonder. Do you?