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Wardrobe remix: Job interview
Shirt: Quality Brand
Slacks: Quality Brand
Shoes: Dr. Schol’s
Last week, I secretly used my day off from work to attend a job interview in the big smoke. I kept it a secret so as not to jinx the opportunity. Well, a week has passed, so I guess that I didn’t impress them enough. Actually, fourty-minutes into the "interview" session, it was pretty apparent that I was not going to be given serious consideration for the job. Admittedly, I’m quite upset about this because I was the only qualified applicant out of the entire group that I interviewed with.
The interview was conducted "bear pit" style, with all four candidates vying for the single opening of "media researcher and analyst" at a Toronto media consulting firm that specializes in emergent and "social" media. In most cases, this interview format is meant to expediate mass hirings and is primarily used to identity candidates who would made for effective co-workers/interns. But in this instance, we were expected to take the other candidates down by outshining them and coming off as being more clever and qualified than the rest. Most of my college admittance interviews were conducted like this, and all of those were dismal failures because my style is, as we say in sales, "under sell, over deliver." This time, all of my opponents were women (something that is very common at the bottom of the heap, but not so much at a top of the game), most with marketing degrees from "Canada’s Ivy League" and one with a marketing communications diploma from a community college. None had ever undertaken any sort of media research or specifically studied research methods for media or media theory in general, a fact that I managed to force out of them as a strategy to disqualify them.
Job interviews, in general, are a complete crap-shoot and I’ve never been hired based on the strength of one. I’ve always known someone within the company. Actually, this one time I walked into a job interview and was hired a minute into it based solely on the fact that the producer’s assistant recognized me from school. He didn’t even know my name or my area of study. See, crap-shoot.