As a former drum major for the Jasper (Indiana) High School Marching Wildcats, and a former member of Notre Dame’s famed Irish Guard, I am a more-than-casual observer of ceremonial garb. Been there. Wore that. It was impossible to avoid images from the recent Brit Royal Wedding, and with my background, it was hard to ignore Prince Harry’s deal that day. There haven’t been so many knots and braids in one outfit since the Throne kept a hangman on the payroll. Check it:We are always looking for metaphors that convey the value of improvisation in business, and this is a biggie, because Prince Harry’s outfit is the exact opposite of improvisation. It is the result of centuries of scripting, hierarchical thinking and deeply coded institutional memory. And it prompts a good question: In what ways do yours and your organization’s communication practices resemble Prince Harry’s outfit? (And what are you going to do about it?)

Are your epaulets–whatever you ‘carry on your shoulders’–tied so heavily to obligations that it causes you to bend over in your carriage with eyes down instead of keeping your spine straight, and your vision up the road? Look at those braids and ropes latticed into Harry’s epaulets! They used to pay Houdini big money to escape from messes like like that.

What kind of collar do you wear? Is it stiff and tight like Harry’s ? Does it restrict your range to the ‘Voice of the Monarchy’ that His Hankness has been taught to repeat? Or is it loose and open, so that your voice can express all the colors and range of the voice of an opera star like Juan Diego Flórez?

Does your outfit sport ribbons and medals that require a degree in Heraldry to interpret? Or do you walk into scenarios unadorned, prepared to adapt to whatever best suits the situation and the problem at hand?

And speaking of hand…does your outfit give everything and everyone the white glove treatment–no dirt, and no skin except for a penny-sized patch in the fat of your palm? Or is your sense of touch free to achieve its full potential? In a digitally-mediated world, touch is a hugely appreciated experience.

If you put a lid on your outfit, do you do it in an old-school marching band style like the unfortunate Harry, who presumably had no choice in the matter? Or do you make it a lid that people might actually choose to wear themselves? Can you imagine a non-Halloween event where you’d want to wear a lid like Harry’s?

Now..in contrast with the Best Man’s outfit, take a look at what Pippa Middleton, the Maid of Honor, is wearing:

Everything about Pippa’s outfit contrasts with Hank’s. It is open, subtle, simple, and elegant. For such a momentous occasion, it is surprisingly casual. Most of all, what comes through is the personality of the wearer. There’s nothing in its design to distract us from her Pippa-ness, which is downright lovely, even the tension around her mouth, which says she’s putting up with the pomp, maybe she’s even amused by it, but she’s not reveling in it.

Who’s playing a role and who is showing character?  Who is trapped in the past and who is living in the moment? Who is free to move, and who is tied down by an institution? Who’s going to look good in shoes or barefoot? Who could go for a swim without drowning? Whose attire wouldn’t damage you physically you if you slow dance together?

Improvisation results in an outfit like Pippa’s, one that best suits the occasion, and shows you in your best light.  A totally-scripted outfit like Harry’s sits around in the closet, waiting for an occasion to suit it. That’s a lot of overhead. Unless you’re His Royal Highness Prince Henry of Wales, you probably can’t carry it. And even if you can, why would you want to?

It was like this, see...