After yesterday’s “Wait wait you’re Asian AND you’re a staff employee!?” experience, plus a little depression over Husband being on his work trip (seriously it’s such a good thing I didn’t marry a businessman because I would have died within the first year of marriage I’m quite certain) and an addiction to What Not to Wear (Stacy and Clinton, if you’re reading this, please let me be on the show even though I’m not a trainwreck), I decided I needed to start dressing like grown-ups dress in an office setting.
A little backstory that will be remarkably uninteresting to probably 90% of you, but you’ll read it anyhow because you’re awesome: My wardrobe has taken an interesting journey over the years. This one time in college a roommate told me I dressed like a news anchor. I’m still trying to decide if she was complimenting me or insulting me. When Husband and I met, he could see past my middle-aged wardrobe and baggy, straight leg jeans (look, I was kind of chubby. Whatever.) and love me for who I was, although once we were married and I lost a pretty significant amount of weight, he took me shopping to update my look.
The thing is: he owns about ten ringer tees from Old Navy and wears socks with Crocs. I know. So he’s probably not the type of person I should listen to when it comes to clothing.
And apparently the problem that has now arisen is that, although I’m no longer dressing 20 years older than I should, I’m now dressing about 10 years younger than I should.
So I pulled out all the grown-up stops; wrinkle-free white blouse (with the collar popped THANKyouverymuch), tan dress pants, brown dress shoes, and jewelry. Like, awesome jewelry. And all day I felt like I commanded a certain level of respect. I didn’t worry about wearing the same outfit as an 18-year-old freshman. I was taking names and kicking butt.
The Low Point
I went to the restroom and discovered my fly had been down all morning and almost all afternoon.
So that’s cool.