Industry Fashion

Do you want to know one of my biggest struggles, being a female finish carpenter?  Well, as vain as it may sound, one disappointing difference between comfy job and current job: I used to look pretty cute and put-together at work.  Now I look…well, like a carpenter.  It’s one thing that really bums me out about my current profession – it’s hard to feel like you even look clean, let alone presentable.  Going out to happy hour after work with friends becomes an exercise in self-affirmation.  I tell myself that I’m just as smart as all those professional women with their attaché cases and adorable hairdos, I’m just as beautiful as those women wearing skirts and make-up, *sigh* but you’d probably never think any of that by the way I look after work: unkempt, covered in dust, and just plain worn out.

Here’s my self-imposed uniform: a pair of double front brown carhartts (I’ve learned that the normal carpenter pants and jeans wear through too quickly and other colors fade too soon), a small and sturdy t-shirt (bonus points if it doesn’t have a stain or paint on it), and sensible dark leather slip on shoes with steel toes (easy to take on and off when entering/exiting a client’s home).  I usually also have zippered hoodie or something of that nature--though I usually take that off if I’m working with rotating blades.  Aside from the shoes (I am 100% excited about those because I just discovered the brand and style), my work wear is completely uninspired.  Practical and plain, just like my hair – it’s short, and there’s no sense in putting any effort into styling it when it’s likely to get messy within thirty minutes of arriving at the jobsite. 

I love these shoes (thanks Catherine!). They are slip on, waterproof, steel toed, and have big luggy soles.

So, you may be able to tell I have a dilemma.  It's impossible to feel pretty when I'm so dirty and messy.  I consider myself to be a reasonably attractive woman, generally speaking. But I never feel sexy or pretty at work or in my work clothes.  I suppose I’m partly to blame.  I rarely wear any make-up at work because I don’t want men at the jobsite to get the wrong idea. I have a boyfriend and I’m not trying to attract any unwanted attention.  My carhartts are expensive and when a hole wears through the first layer, I just ignore it until it wears through the next -- why did I pay for the double front? That’s why.  I only recently went through my t-shirts and threw out the ones that were truly beyond repair, but most of them were originally purchased at a thrift store -- it’s hard to feel compelled to spend money on new shirts when you know they’ll be trashed in a matter of months.

Juliette Caron was a female carpenter born in 1882 -- amazing.

I found this great old photo of a female carpenter named Juliette Caron wearing what’s called a “largeot” in the early 1900s.  Even though I think she looks fantastic, I bet her attire (which is about as impractical as it gets) was the least of her troubles on the job.  So all this got me thinking…if feeling grubby is one of the worst things I can think of about being a female finish carpenter, we sure have come a long way!  I mean, I know Seattle is particularly progressive, but I rarely encounter rampant sexism.  There are so many things I have the propensity to dwell on, and in the end I delight in reminding myself that it is indeed a luxury to worry about anything as mundane as fashion.

Mis-shapes, Mistakes, Misfits*

One thing I particularly appreciate about finish carpentry and woodworking is that there is always more to learn.  No matter how long you've been a woodworker, there is always another technique to learn or master, there will forever more be an abundance of those "tricks of the trade" to file away in your woodworking arsenal. (I use the word "arsenal" because sometimes it does feel like a battle.)  Don't get me wrong – it's not that there aren't true masters out there.  It's just that even if you take the most educated, gifted, experienced woodworker of all time, there is something left to teach him.  After all, the industry itself is constantly changing and evolving – with new tools, new materials, new standards, and new people.  And I'm happy to be part of that evolution.

I remember on my first day at the cabinet shop, my boss took me aside and explained, "so, it's possible that I will teach you how to do something one way and then the next day, someone else will explain how to do it another way.  It's not that one way is better than the other.  We both have our reasons for liking our way best."  Then he explained that he preferred that I default to his way.  After all, he was the owner and he was trying to develop a consistent system for producing a consistent product.  I understood and respected that.  But it took me a while to be comfortable with this type of learning environment.  I am usually the type of person who just wants someone to tell me the best way to do something.  The idea that there is no best way is a little disturbing.  Since then, I've realized that knowing multiple techniques for accomplishing the same task is what separates the masters from the apprentices, the pros from the newbies. 

This brings us to perhaps the most important part of a finish carpenter's job description: how to fix mistakes.  These aren't necessarily mistakes that you yourself have made.  They are, in fact, mostly mistakes that others have made.  And it's why finish carpentry exists.  Think about your house, the room you're sitting in right now...the finish carpentry includes the doors, windows, trim, and cabinetry among other various things (mantel, stairs, etc.).   Back before a finish carpenter came in to do their job, there may have been an exterior window installed and a big hole where the door should go.  We come into these rooms with uneven floors, walls that are anything but flat, ceilings that drop to one side, and we make everything look nice and square, level, plumb, parallel – pleasing to the eye.  The door should swing easily, but not pull itself open or closed.  The trim should look even around the doors and windows, and it should hide the gaps that exist between the wall and the floor, between the casing and the wall, between the window and the framing, etc.  The cabinets should be level even if the floor isn't.  At best, you wouldn't notice any of these "mistakes" of the room.  As finish carpenters, these are the mistakes we solve every day.  And yes, it's quite satisfying.  Also, I am pretty content with the fact that my job cannot be done by a robot.

Then there are the mistakes we make ourselves.  After all, nobody's perfect.  Sometimes I have a really dumb moment and am faced with the super frustrating decision of how to fix my own mistake.  At best, no one will notice.  Luckily, I am my own worst critic.  This comes in handy when you are fine-tuning a fix to correct something you messed up -- once I'm satisfied, the client most certainly is.  And going back to this "arsenal" of multiple techniques, you now have something to work with.  You start asking questions to hone in on the best solution:  What tools do I have?  What type of material am I working with?  How visible is this boo-boo?  Etc.  If you only have one method to work with, it limits your ability to fix things well.  Different materials jive with different tools.  For instance, laminates don't always get along well with a power plane but they are usually all right with a belt sander.  You can't cut a perfect plug in pre-finished wood, but if you have a little stain pen and some spray lacquer in your van, you might be able to make everything look golden.  And that's the idea.

On a recent stair, I cut this riser a little short.  Argh!

The best solution was to trim a fill strip (grain matched) and glue it in place with a tiny removable shim.

The finished stair looked fantastic (and a little less fuzzy in person...)

There's something about this job...you get to go in and make slightly messed up rooms look amazing.  That's the measure of a good finish carpenter.  You're not necessarily judged by whether you make a mistake, but rather by how you fix it.   You're not judged by whether you have a skill set, but how you use it.  The more you learn (about methods, techniques, tools, materials, etc.), the better equipped you are to make an informed choice about how to do just that, to choose your own best way.

* yes, for those who recognize the title of this post, it's borrowed directly from a Pulp song.

All Work and No Play?

Being a finish carpenter, you quickly realize that many people have a fascination with woodworking.  It’s a fun answer (especially for a girl) to the cocktail party get-to-know-you-in-a-sentence question, “so what do you do?”  Your new friend replies excitedly, “Really?  A carpenter?  That must be fun!”  To which I usually reply, “Yes.  It is.”  But I always feel that I’m somehow misleading them.  I’m pretty sure this person imagines an entirely different version of my day-to-day lifestyle than what I actually experience. 

Perhaps they are imagining a dusty cramped workshop, all littered with sawdust, hand planes and chisels.  Sunbeams shoot through the old leaded glass windows (it’s always sunny in the mind’s eye, isn’t it?).  A table, half built, sits in the corner, its final leg being carved carefully on a lathe.  A small jewelry box is nearly finished -- all that’s left to do is the sanding, waxing and attaching the tiny brass hinges and clasp.  That’s the workshop daydream, trumping all other potential daydreams in my experience.  If someone is fascinated by woodworking, 9 times out of 10, this “Gepetto scene” (as a former colleague aptly referred to it) is their secret fantasy.  Come to think of it, that colleauge looked an awful lot like Gepetto himself...

This is our real workshop, with enough space to park my van inside after hours.

The jobsite daydream, for those who aim a little closer to reality, may be a bit hazier.  The details aren’t filled in.  Who knows where you keep your chisels?  At best, maybe a rustic old wooden toolbox, folded in a leather sleeve. Who knows what this house looks like that you may be working on?  Is it a Craftsmen or maybe even a Victorian?  One thing is for sure -- you are crafting a home with your mad skills and you must be the happiest most fulfilled person on the entire planet!

Honestly, these are the typical reactions I’m used to, and I can’t blame anyone for feeling this way.  These are the dreams that my reality is based on.  If it weren’t for the romance and the intrigue of crafting something with the skill of your hands, standing back to admire it and seeing it finally in its finished state, there would be no love here and I would be doing something else with my time.

So it all kind of begs the question -- is this really still fun for me, in the way I originally intended for it to be?  The simple answer is “yes”.  I am fulfilled by my work.  I love what I do and I literally crave learning more (so much that I actually let out squeals of delight when someone shows me a particularly clever trick).  The more complicated answer, though, is “sometimes”.  Let’s face it: not every job can be the crème de la crème, where a healthy budget meets a beautiful design concept meets gorgeous materials meets my own two hands.  Sometimes, someone just needs you to fix their rotten threshold….for as little money as possible, by the way.  Also, even my most favorite jobs (the ones that leave me with a huge perma-grin and a spring in my step) -- even those jobs can’t capture my interest beyond the 40 hour work-week (okay, let's face it.  I’d probably be happier with only 32 hours).  There’s just nothing on this planet that has so far captured my interest in that way.  I think it’s a big key to my personality.  I love balance in my life -- between work, hobby, home, family, friends, dogs, etc. 

Les and I did have fun building this maple and walnut cutting board as a wedding gift.

So, what’s fun for me about woodworking?  Why do I stick with it?  I love the craft.  I love learning about wood and techniques.  I love using all my cool tools and learning to use new ones.  I love putting more beauty into the world.  I love putting myself into my projects.  I love seeing some of the most beautiful architectural details I could imagine come to light.  I love the camaraderie and the history of the trade.  I love the challenges and troubleshooting that each job requires.  I love the feeling that I get when I have made someone’s day just by doing my job.  I love making little blocks for my adorable nephew’s birthday or gifting a homemade cutting board as a wedding present. These are the elements of my work that make it all worthwhile, despite the fact that it's only "sometimes" fun.  All this love is what drives me to continue on this path.

It's particularly gratifying to see my nephew Kegen enjoy playing with those blocks!

Scary Stuff

When I entered into my career 5 years ago, it didn’t really seem like that big of a deal to be a female carpenter.  What felt like a big deal was leaving my very comfortable part-time job with a salary, health insurance, a 401K, paid holidays and sick days and several supportive coworkers -- from here on out, I’ll refer to this as “comfy job”.  It was predictable, pleasant, and stable.  But, I was uninspired.   It just wasn’t me and I knew it wasn’t my future.  A good friend asked me the simple question, “What would you do if you won the lottery?”  I answered, “Take a woodworking class.”

Woodworking always had an allure, but suddenly it dawned on me that there was no real reason I couldn’t pursue it as a potential career.  After several months tiptoeing around as a free apprentice for a friend-of-a-friend (i.e., please let me come watch you work so I can see if this actually as interesting in reality as it is in my head), I started working on my days off at a cabinet shop (for actual pay!) and then quit comfy job forever.  With eyes-open and fingers-crossed, I dove into the unknown world of cabinetmaking, with time-sheets and hourly pay (yes, less than I was making at comfy job), no benefits (we did get health insurance later), and a bunch of guys carrying heavy things and using scary machines.  It felt like a very big deal.

After a while, it became clear.  A professional female carpenter is highly unusual.  My coworkers jokingly told me they better watch what they talk about.  My initial hunch was that their conversations were not necessarily geared toward mixed company, because they included stories about either sex or farting (more likely both).  Practically every industry rep who came in to make a sales call did a double-take when they saw me there. Okay, it was starting to resonate…I really was an anomaly.

Even so, I quickly fit in with the guys at the shop.  Every day at 11:30, we all sat down together at one of our work-benches, which was something we had only done to celebrate birthdays at comfy job.  Side note: assuming you like your coworkers, a communal lunch is a great way to encourage camaraderie.  I have a pretty good sense of humor, as did they.  We usually joked a little and shared a bit about what was going on with our lives.  I was in and it was wonderful. 

I recalled what I was like in high school.  I had good female friends and a sister who I adored, but many of my closest friends were boys.  I get along well with men and I always have.  Don’t get me wrong -- I have always needed and appreciated all the ladies in my life.  But the gossip and drama that accompanied many of those relationships in middle school and high school led me to be selective of my female friends.  I cherish my close female friends because they are like me and I don’t have to explain myself to them constantly, the way I do with many of my male friends.  Still, the point is that I’ve always been happy with male company.  So the men who worked with me at that first cabinetmaking job all became friends of mine.   And I started learning about wood and tools -- fast.  After all, I was entering this world at the age of 25, and most of my colleagues had been in the field for at least a decade.  I had some catching up to do!

I had good shop-mates as teachers, and everyone was patient in explaining things to me -- well, mostly.  What they may not have been used to were all the questions.  I was like a 4-year-old trying to get a handle on the world.  As with most things in life, I don’t do well with “okay, here’s how you do this.”  I need to know “Why do you do it that way?”  It may have been annoying at first, but with woodworking especially, the “why” becomes much more important.  After all, there are often several different ways to accomplish the same task.  Learning to discern between them and choose judiciously -- that’s the trick.  The “why” also helps you wrap your head around the way wood moves and works.  For instance, “Always feed a piece into the jointer with the grain sloping upward, like a surfboard riding a wave.”  Why?  “Because you avoid chipping the wood.”  Why? “Because wood tends to chip with-the-grain when it’s grabbed by a rotating blade.  If that grain slopes up and into your piece, a little chunk could be chipped off.  If it slopes down and away from your piece, it’s only chipping off the portion you were taking off anyway.”  Eureka!

The other place where “why” becomes a critical question is with tools and safety.  Something as simple as, “Don’t back your piece out of the table saw” deserves an explanation: “It could kick back across the room at 120 mph and kill someone if it hits them.”  That might stick in the brain.  “Keep pressure against the table saw fence,” sounds perfectly reasonable, but hearing about the repercussions of losing control of your piece of wood evokes an acute sense of love and adoration for all ten of your precious and lovely fingers. They’ve served you well and you want to keep them...on your hands.  Safety first, the most valuable lesson of all -- and hopefully not one learned through your own naïve or stupid mistake.  And, for the record, yes it was scary to learn to use all these dangerous machines.  Presently, I’d just say I have a healthy respect for each of them.  Respect like you may have for a super sharp kitchen knife (love and respect!) or a car coming fast down the street.  You could get hurt or even killed, but that doesn’t mean your heart stays in your throat all day.  You just stay alert and keep yourself safe.

So there’s the beginning.  That’s how things started for me.  I made a scary decision and I followed through with it.  I’ve been happy with my choice -- happier still since I switched from cabinetmaking to finish carpentry.  It has been difficult at times.  Sometimes, I still feel like an outsider.  Like I’m sneaking into a men-only clubhouse.  They like me, but they know I’m not supposed to be there.  At times (okay, every day!), I’m reminded that I’m physically strained by my work.  I come home sore and tired, and I wake up sore and tired.  I’m only 31 years old.  I’m not supposed to groan when I bend down to pick up my puppy!  Occasionally, I get tired of having everyone do a double take or make some comment when they see me on a jobsite.  But mostly, I’m met with a warm reception by coworkers and contractors and I’m deeply gratified by my work.  I love what I do.  I take pride in it and I revel the chance I’ve been given to make a living doing what I love.  I'm a lucky girl.  Even if I do have calluses on my fingers and sawdust in my bra…