As soon as he arrives at his office just before 8am each day, Xander Maddox heads to the kitchen and lounge area.
Usually, his colleagues aren't yet at that time, so he makes himself a cup of coffee, puts his phone in front of the window, wearing the camera, facing him. He then hits the record and takes a step back to capture the outfits of the day:
Black leather jacket.
Bright blue sweater for breakfast with COS, Margiela Loafers and 2 cups of Raisin Bran.
White T-shirt, gray pants, cherry red Nike airlift, he described as a “calm office fit.”
The entire process takes about 5 minutes. After that, he has to upload.
“I try to do the same routine every day to make it cohesive,” he said in a phone interview.
Maddox, a 31-year-old executive assistant at a treasury company in Jersey City, New Jersey, has not done this as part of his job, but on his side as a fashion content creator for side hustle ticoku, hundreds find inspiration for the looks he put together.
Fashion's impact is a billion dollar business, with some estimates that many creators aim to work full-time. But for office-style influencers, the h on their side depends on their main hustle. They work and showcase in real offices in law firms, high-tech companies, call centres and advertising agencies. Several times a week, they carefully find the perfect place for a break room or toilet to record an ensemble for the internet.
After all, where are you supposed to film videos of #ProfessionalFashion, #OfficeOOTD, and #WorkfashionInspo in your real office?
One thing has been clear in recent conversations with about half a dozen office wear influencers.
And posting your style to the office can backfire. Last week, US Personnel Management spokesperson McClaulin Pinover fired fire after CNN reported on workplace-style influencer videos, filmed them in the office and posted them on Instagram, overseeing layoffs for thousands of federal workers as part of the Trump administration's orders. She deleted her Instagram account @getdressedWithMC shortly after the news outlet reached out to her.
“There's a lot of emotion in the government and the world we are in, so I think you could have read the room,” Maddox said of the Pinober incident. “If you're in a very visible job and doing something that appears to be insensitive to the public, you have to be able to have that common sense.”
As a widely built 5-foot-10 person, Maddox said he must pay close attention to his shopping, prioritizing pants and shirts that fit his frame. He describes his style as “comfortable but high” and aims to inspire people who want to express their personal style in the office, especially those with his figure. He said many of his colleagues follow him online with enthusiasm and support. They haven't spoken directly about it, but Maddox also said he's confident the boss is fine.
“Unless it affects the job,” he said, adding that his boss has a big social media presence as the company's chief executive.
The coronavirus pandemic has sent many employees home and went home to log in to a loungewear meeting, including new college graduates who have begun their professional careers on the couch, but many still don't know how to show up for work.
“After Covid, people didn't know how to dress because I definitely didn't have a clue,” said Whitney Grett, a 27-year-old IT account manager at a staffing company in Houston. “Everyone wore sweatshirts in their first year.”
Grett joined his current workplace remotely in early 2021, a few months after graduating from university. She was excited when it was time to return to the office and was able to experiment with a variety of ways to dress for work. After receiving a compliment from a colleague about her outfit last summer, she decided to share the look of her work in Tiktok.
“It got to the point where I was, I think I just start posting these.
In her video, which is seen by thousands, Grett captures the day's appearance as she posed in front of a glass door in an empty meeting room. She and her work friends usually meet with a tripod at lunchtime to avoid road traffic. Sometimes, if the office is really busy, they have to wait until the end of the day to film.
“I get some comments from people who say, 'Oh, I couldn't do that.' And I say, 'I understand,'” she said. “I have a very supportive team. I'm not the first team to post a video from the office before. I'm happy they kept it in a small room.”
Officewear content is popular today because young audiences, especially those who have begun their careers in the world of hybrid work, are desperate for very basic questions, according to Jaehee Jong, professor of fashion and apparel studies at the University of Delaware.
“You're not at home, so you need to think about some of the rules that may be considered in your work environment,” she said. “Because depending on the occupation and industry, there are different tolerances for several different etiquette and forms.”
According to Professor Jung, when filming office-equipped content in a real office, influencers offer one major advantage. This is automatically recognized as an expert. That general meeting room decoration proves that someone hired them to work in the office, so they need to know something about dressing.
Vianiris Abreu, a 30-year-old human resource manager at a Manhattan advertising agency, said it was one of the reasons he began posting office wear to Tiktok when he returned to his office in 2021. Working in a somewhat non-traditional environment has allowed her to be more innovative than many would have expected.
“The things I wear are probably not something that everyone wears, but it's definitely normal for me to work in the advertising industry,” she said, adding that she doesn't reveal much online about where she works and what she does.
Abreu said the filming in the office — she usually spends around 15 minutes per day recording what would become a 7-second clip of Tiktok — comes out as more authentic.
“To me, the office aesthetics look very pretty and the engagement looks higher,” she said. “But I think it's just showing me in the office. That's the whole point.”
In many cases, these side gigs can be rewarded. Last year, Jersey City executive assistant Maddox said he made about $2,000 from sponsorships, payments and products from the brand. He describes this extra income as “playing money.” But he is selective about his work.
“I will not take every opportunity to come because it's not my full-time job,” he said.
