Of course librarians have tattoos.

Some even have professionally relevant tattoos! I have one friend, an MLIS, with an entire scene from Where the Wild Things Are across her back (the subject of a children’s lit research paper she wrote at SLIS). But tattoos are hardly new. Body art has a legacy stretching back thousands of years, and the contemporary, widespread popularity of tattoos — blossoming in the early nineties, still going strong twenty years on — shows no signs of abating. Tattoos aren’t limited to record store clerks anymore. My wife has two tattoos — and she’s an accounting paraprofessional. So are accountants considered hip now too?

At the root of all this is a defensiveness about our profession that some librarians have adopted. Are we really so afraid of hair buns and cardigans? Libraries and librarians have real-world challenges to deal with. Budgets are being slashed. Technology is transforming information use. We’re still figuring out what is the 21st century librarian’s skill set.

Meanwhile, any and all trades with practitioners under 40 are going to have plenty of tattooed or otherwise hip professionals, just as they are bound to also have a few nerdy, bookish types. Heck, there are plenty of people over 40 with tattoos. It’s become…unremarkable. So the more we remark on it, the more we try and make a big deal about the appearance of librarians, the more silly and vain we look. Librarians can and do come in every stripe, every style, every age. That’s no longer the point.

Johnson does point out a number of great things libraries do — this entire passage is on point: “As for librarians, they’re civil servants. They deal with all kinds of social welfare problems, from childcare to homelessness to people who can’t navigate the bureaucracy to get benefits or help finding a job. The buck stops at the library. If we keep cutting library aid, people who can’t figure out how to file for taxes, or how to use e-mail, are going to be out of luck. About 20 percent of the population is not wired; they don’t have Internet access or a smart phone.”

These are the talking points librarians should use when trying to influence public perception, not the punkish color of our hair or the trendiness of our musical taste (though it’s unfortunate, as my friend Nicole pointed out to me, that Johnson doesn’t highlight the value academic and special librarians bring as well; public libraries are only one sector of the profession).

When you get down to it, that kid who always talks about how hip or popular he or she is is never actually hip or popular. Let’s stop being afraid of a harmless stereotype and have a little fun with it, and get serious when we talk about all the good things we can do.

My attempt to go a more formal route was undone by Tom and his husband Mike, who forced me to wear Dame Edna-esque cat-eye glasses, but I was impressed by the efforts of many of my peers. Of course, at least two party-goers declined to participate in the official costume contest on the basis that that’s exactly how they usually dress. Of course, I’m equally guilty. In the run-up to the party, my wife was surprised to see me changing clothes — since I had been already wearing an argyle sweater.

Here’s an assorted few photos:

Not actually prescription glasses.

Yes, that’s exactly how Adina usually dresses.

I wouldn’t dare complain about my overdue fines to Carolyn.

Tawnie went with pink argyle and knee-high stockings.

Sjuli went classy with fancy footwear and a pearl necklace.

Greg stepped up as resident guybrarian.

Ironically, with all those MLIS-holders present, the winner isn’t a librarian at all, but rather my wife’s co-worker and best friend Anastasia, who came as an austere, stern shusher:

Her grand prize was a set of argyle-and-skull stockings, which she promptly added to her look:

The runners-up each won their very own stub-length pencil. To which Tom (a page at an SFPL branch) responded, “It’s my job to stock those!”.

Happy New Year’s, by the way…

I’ve always been amused by the defensiveness I see from some quarters when it comes to “stereotypes” about librarians. Of course I understand the argument about how changing technology and information needs are altering the nature of the MLIS degree, and I know the core skills of the librarian are constantly in evolutionary flux. My own skillset, interests and education are all reflective of a 21st century librarian. But since when did a good argyle sweater become something to be ashamed of? Heck, even pop stars are mimicking librarian style these days (and I rock a good argyle whenever I can).

So for this party, we’re organizing a bit of a throwback: we’ll give a special doorprize to the best librarian “drag” worn by an attendee — sweater vests, lead-pencil hair buns, the works. And I borrowed a typewriter, bought some index cards,  and pulled out the hole punch to create a cocktail menu on a set of catalog cards:

Of course, cocktails aren’t something you’d typically catalog for a library. So I used a little creative license: “The Great Gatsby” has been cataloged under its namesake novel’s Dewey Decimal call number, and the Library of Congress Subject Headings for the “Bloody Mary” have more to do with an English monarch than they do tomato juice. Here’s the complete set (10, one for each class under the DDC):