I saw a video recently from Rampley and Co in the UK featuring Caryn Franklin, a Fashion and Identity Commentator, talking about something called “enclothed cognition”.  When I saw her work title - Fashion and Identity Commentator - and the reference to psychology, I was dubious.  I was thinking, “here we go, more psychobabble”.  She referenced a psychology study by Hajo Adam and Adam Galinsky, published in the journal of Experimental Social Psychology in July 2012. They looked at the “diverse impact that clothes can have on the wearer by proposing that enclothed cognition involves the co-occurrence of two independent factors - the symbolic meaning of the clothes and the physical experience of wearing them”.  In short, the influence of clothes depends on wearing them and their symbolic meaning. For the leader, this means to me that what I choose to wear impacts how I feel about myself and how I am perceived by those around me.  For men in business in Japan, if you are a white-collar worker, that means wearing a suit.  If the choice of suit and all the other accoutrements like shirts, ties, pocket squares, cufflinks, watches, shoes, etc., are important, how much thought do we normally put into it? We all know old sayings like “dress for success” and intrinsically, we get it.  Wearing a suit like a slob, with food stains on the tie and down at heel, scuffed shoes, is sending a message about our own self-worth and our professional brand to the public.  On the other hand, if we wear a well-cut suit, with an overall smart appearance, we feel more confident and more capable and the research bears this out. If this is the case, then should we be better educated about what we are wearing?  When I moved from being a Griffith University Modern Asian Studies Ph.D. candidate to graduating and getting my first real corporate job, I had no idea what to wear.  I never saw my father wear a suit to work and I didn’t grow up with any concepts about men’s classic clothing.  Brisbane is a hot and humid climate, so generally, everyone dressed for the weather and I did too.  One small blessing was that I had the self-awareness to know I was clueless.  I went to see Mitchell Ogilvie, who at that time, had his men’s clothing store in upper Edward Street in Brisbane and it had the dark wood panelling, leather chairs and was very swish.  I explained that I was about the start work at Jones, Lang, Wootton, but had no appropriate clothing to suit the work.  Mitch assured me he was dressing many of the Directors there, so he knew exactly what I needed to buy, to blend in.  He did a good job (thanks Mitch) and I always felt I was one of the better dressed employees there and this helped my confidence and how I was regarded. Around that time, the Prime Minister of Australia became Paul Keating from the Labor Party.  He, like me, grew up in modest circumstances and yet he managed to get the highest position in the land.  I read somewhere that unlike his predecessors, he didn’t wear suits made in Australia, but wore Italian suits by Ermenegildo Zegna.  When I would see him on television, in the Parliament, giving speeches, he always looked very sharp and better dressed than his Tory political opponents. I decided I would wear Zegna suits too and have been a client for thirty years and their size 52 fits me like it was designed for my body. It gave me confidence, even when I was out of my depth, that at least I looked like I knew what I was doing. Had I ever planned my wardrobe with my personal brand in mind?  Not really.  I had just accumulated suits over the years, especially when travelling to Italy on holiday.  I would wear them out and simply buy a replacement. Over the last decade, I have started to add more custom suits and have started to think more about what I am wearing and why. I wish I had done this much earlier, given the psychology of how you feel based on what you are wearing and how people