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Corporate Style
I have been trying to get my home organized and cleaned lately. Clean is the big challenge. Ask Jane. My house usually resembles a deserted alley in downtown KC. Random plastic bags strewn about, a single shoe in the middle of a hallway, a random criminal sauntering aimlessly on the horizon and a thin layer of dust coating everything including the cat. I typically use the excuse that my house is a construction zone and that ripping tons of 100-year old plaster off walls isn't exactly a clean activity, but that has certainly worn thin. On Tuesday night, I committed to cleaning off the parsons bench in my foyer. I found stacks of paper from when I refinanced my money pit a few months back, a plastic baggie full of cds, mail, clothes and other assorted goodies. I put most things away, made a stack of "to-do's" and then Pledged the crap out of that bench. Its oak is sparkly clean now and my entry smells lemon fresh. Mmmm...
One of my to-do's was to return a pair of pants I bought at a store I never go to. I must not have looked closely when trying on the slacks because I didn't realize until I got them home that they were the kind of slacks that were tight in the waist, then slightly flared out around the tummy and finally tapered in at the ankle creating something of a sealed dinner mint effect around my lower-half. For many people, that might be a desirable look, however it is sooo not my style. As Jane pointed out over the weekend, I have a skinny waist which is "one of my best features." That of course is code for "compared to your ample ass and thick calves." Because of this, I choose pants that fit well around the waist and then hang down to my ankles. Anyhow, I'm not here to criticize me - I'm here to criticize others and in this case, the pant-makers of the world.
After leaving work, I drove across town to the store to return the pants. The whole time, I lectured myself on the need to conserve my money for other things. I worked hard to convince myself to proceed directly to the return counter, demand cash and get the hell out. I'm sure you know how this turns out...
I entered the store and proceeded to the counter and demanded my cash (nicely, politely and no I didn't wear them, and yes I still have my receipt and no I don't want store credit, thankyouverymuch.) Of course the return counter was directly in the line of site of the women's clothing department and there was a rack o'black at 12:00 o'clock. Mmmm... dark black clothing..... So while the young man processed my return and developed x-rays of my wisdom teeth or whatever it is they do to keep track of customers these days, I started thinking about my corporate style. I haven't talked much about work, but I do show up at a job everyday. It is futile for me to attempt to describe what I do, and even if I did get into the gory details, my job still doesn't make sense, so let's just say I have a desk job, and I get freaked out about things like WEENUS's and the cover sheets on TPS reports. I also travel a bit for work as we'll all experience together on Monday when I fly off to the great state of Ohio... You didn't know you were in for airport stories did you!!! Party BONUS!!!
Anywho - my corporate style sucks. Prior to my desk job, I worked at an internet company as a project manager (code for doesn't know shit about web but talks a good game). At that internet company, you could wear pajamas to work, not comb your hair and sleep in a puddle of your own bile and someone might still be less dressed up than you. Transition to corporate America (or Mer-ca as W would say) where I'm expected to bathe, eliminate all traces of denim from my being, iron, etc. So when I started here two years ago, I hastily bought out the clerance rack at Dillard's and have since been adding bits and pieces here and there. I've never taken the time to define my corporate style and it is starting to show. There are a variety of corporate styles to choose from, everything from tailored business suits to off-the-rack business suits from Wal-mart to Banana Republic mix and match to crafty funky jewelry with bejeweled jackets to cross-stitched cardigan business casual - well you get the idea. So far, I've been "former web chick takes a shower" business casual which is okay, but needs a bit of upgrading. All of this races through my mind as the young man at the return counter processes my fingerprints and runs my retinal scan through the database to process my $32.67 return. I make a decision. Today's the day! My corporate style will be REBORN!!!
Back to my body style - I'm 5'1 and not thin but not fat. Everyone complains about shopping and trying to find something that fits them, and I am no exception. Everything is too long. It is always too long. Oh, and clingy around my ass. Stop with the "Stretch" already will ya!!! I wandered into the women's department, pulled a gazillion items off the rack, including various suit jackets ranging from meeting with the mailroom clerk to meeting with the CEO, a variety of textures and lengths and pinstripes in pants, and shirts that tucked in and shirts that covered my ass and all of everything you could ever imagine (except short skirts - have to hide the calves. Moooo!) I tried on things until my hair stood on end from all of the static. Nothing. Nada. Zip, Zilch - phleeeaat (that's supposed to be the sound of a flat tire).
So I left depressed, but still with my $32.67 intact and my face registered in the Mer-ca's Most Wanted database in case John Walsh ever needs to hunt me down. I guess that's a good outcome in the end. I've decided that I will put off ever shopping in a petites department again until I'm at least 73 years old. Enough with the short jackets and outdated trim styles already!!!
�
This is a picture of The Boy at the Encounter Restaurant at LAX. You know
that goofy space-like structure they always show in the movies. Traveling for
work does have its benefits <
12:00 p.m. - July 15, 2004
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