January 07, 2005
Novelties Are Not for Wearing
As much as I rejoice that I came to work here after the switch to "business casual", meaning I don't have to wear skirts, nylons (apparel of the devil) and heels everyday, and as much as I love that today's khakis and hoodie actually pass for office-wear, perhaps... and I don't say this lightly... perhaps we should rethink.
Case in point: turtlenecks. Meant to be worn under things, like sweaters, preferably. But there are women here who insist upon wearing them alone -- the novelty ones from Kohl's with snowflakes or bears or whatever on them. It's just... gah! And as much as I'd love to see a couple of the guys here in a fitted, black, silk turtleneck, I'm going to have to outlaw them all completely, just so I'm not bombarded with an entire female torso covered in tiny shamrocks.
And more shameful than the novelty turtlenecks -- novelty socks. Socks should match your shoes and/or your pants. They should not have cows, flamingos or kitties on them. (If you're now going to argue that your shoes and/or pants have cow, flamingos or kitties on them, I'm going to have to ask you to assume the position.)
At Christmas, a woman actually wore Christmas socks with jingle bells on them. Not pictures of bells, mind you -- actual bells than jingled with every step! And in order to further share the joy of our lord savior's birth and the whimsy of her socks, she wore floods so that all could see them.
Now we get to mens' fashions and, in particular, my bosses, who are from downstate Illinois and, according to my female boss, dress like hicks. I've already had to forbid T from wearing anything pink. It wasn't a good idea in the 80's, and nothing has changed. Nothing.
And then there's J. Oh dear God, the Golf sweater. I laughed all fucking day when he wore that one. To his face. Okay, let's see if my description can do it justice. It was a v-neck cardigan, first of all. The back was solid, um... I don't know... maroon? And the front had big blocks of maroon, teal and cream.
On one side of the front, there were four letter appliqués that spelled out the word "GOLF." On the other side, was a big appliqué... of a golf club. Appliqués -- ON A GROWN MAN'S SWEATER. And then the plaid elbow patches were just the icing on the cake of the damned.
And this whole rant is totally hypocritical, I know, because I'm no fashionista. I've already admitted to pink, faux-fur-lined clogs, and I make no bold fashion statements, I don't keep up with trends. In general, I'm completely and utterly unimaginative when I dress myself. BUT. Boring is better than embarrassing oneself.
I only wear my Hello Kitty socks, undies and barrette when I'm going to see The Girl Child, because she thinks that's "cool," and I haven't the heart to tell her otherwise. Partly because I don't want to ruin that part of her girlish innocence, but mainly because I'm a whore for the "cool" points.