Dress and Cardigan: The Limited
Shoes: Rocket Dog
"I'm a professional in my beloved white shirt." - The National
I read something today that said I talk way too much about my work and my co-workers and that HR needs to sit down with me and teach me the ways of being private. Really? I can't recall the last time I talked about work or my co-workers. I mean I might say I had a stressful day or something vague like, "I was talking to one of my co-workers...", but I can't recall ever going into detail about my work. I really don't know where these people get this stuff. And they say I lie about my size... Anyway, I thought it was a strange coincidence, because I was actually planning on talking about something work related today. I guess it would be smart to talk about something else now, but I'm never smart when it comes to what I post on here. It's not about smart. It's about posting what I'm feeling. So, bring it HR!
I received an interoffice email last week stating that guests would be coming and that we needed to tidy up our work areas and dress "professionally." I don't know why, but these types of emails always irk me. I mean, I don't fault the company for sending them out. I get what they are trying to do. However, it's not like I'm thinking to myself, "Damn, I'll have to skip wearing that tube top tomorrow." It just sort of bothers me that all this time I've been trusted to pick out my clothes, but now, all of a sudden, I need to be instructed on how to dress. The other thing that gets me is that I literally don't get up from my desk all day except to go to lunch and the bathroom. I'm a programmer, so I'm pretty much bound to my computer. Most likely, these guests are not even going to see me.
Despite this, in the spirit of professionalism, I decided to put on my best straightjacket dress, conservative cardigan, and sweet floral high-heeled pumps. To finish things off, I wore the staple of all demure ladies, simple pearl earrings. I wasn't very comfortable, but damn if I didn't look professional. However, if you know me, you know I can never fully comply. I walked around all day in my professional garb with my very own little secret that made me smile every time I thought about it. What was my secret? Let's just say I went with my basic instincts. ;-)
The National - Squalor Victoria