Life Lessons

The Person Who Invented Dress Codes Should Be Buried in a Speedo Wearing Flip Flops

Dress for success has died a painful COVID death

“Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society.” — Mark Twain

I’m wondering about my sanity.

Am I Losing It?

I was getting dressed and in a bad mood. Why was I in a foul mood? I had a professional finance meeting and needed to put on clothing that projected the right image. This meeting was essential to my continued retirement lifestyle but I did not want to go. I was getting angry as I got dressed.

Ever since I discovered I could wear pajama pants outdoors, I have been doing so. It is lovely to wander around comfortably as you traverse the world. Who wants to meet the old norms of society? Not me. I had to get a grip on myself.

The moodiness continued when I pulled out one of my stunning go-to outfits. She is a beautiful designer dress, custom-made in Paris for a critical business negotiation when I was a hotshot VP. The dress turned heads whenever I wore it. All my beautiful things are female.

The dress fits me beautifully, projecting the image of a confident, intelligent businesswoman. One problem, though. The front of the dress requires draping in the bosom area. The draping makes the dress as it causes your breasts to look magnificent.

More COVID Losses

I have worn this dress at least five times and never had a problem. Today when I draped the front, it looked like my breasts were fighting with each other; the left one was winning. I undid the top and re-wrapped it. Now I looked like a crackhead was my stylist. So now COVID has stolen my ability to drape clothing? Ok, ok, not this dress, not today.

I pulled out one of my nice dark blue pants suits and put it on with a crisp white blouse. Uh, oh. This suit needs heels, so the pants don’t drag on the floor. I pulled down two pairs of shoes that matched the suit. One pair had a two-inch heel. The other shoe heel was three inches. I put on the three-inch heels and walked to the full-length mirror. Oh, I looked good. The shoes showed off the cut of the pants and made me look expensive.

The shoes worked great except that my feet were sending synchronized shots of pain up my legs with every step I took. Holy shit. I took the shoes off and threw them across the room, attracting my spouse’s attention as the shoes sailed past his nose.

Finishing Touches

I put on the two-inch heels — that height made the pants drag the floor. My feet stopped rioting and settled down to a non-violent protest. My honey came in and pointed out that the pants on my suit were dragging on the floor. He was astonished that I did not take the provided information well and left the area quickly.

I changed the band on my Apple watch to the sparkly metallic one, added some jangly earrings, my big diamond ring, and the façade was complete. I stuffed my pajama set into my purse. As soon as the meeting finished, I would change into my cozy outfit.

Everyone was loaded for bear with dark blue suits all around. We walked in as if we had sticks up our butts then spoke in the King’s English for the entire meeting. It took us a full hour to reach a conclusion we all knew when we walked into the room. It was a most productive meeting.

Back to the Real Me

I slipped into the bathroom and changed into my PJ outfit. Off with the earrings, the suit and the shoes. On with a relaxed purple sports band for my watch. I did not bring shoes with me, so I walked barefoot.

I strolled merrily to my car, where I was met by the same meeting attendees — inviting me to lunch. The pajamas I had on were my special ones: bright red and white with various dogs wearing hats.

I was barefoot. My hair was mussed from bending down and taking off clothing. All jewelry was in my purse. My lawyer kept his cool, but the others with him were standing back, aghast. I smiled at everyone, just as if I still had on my business suit.

I turned down the invitation, sure that I would be one topic of conversation at lunch even though I was not there. Just for fun, I put on my oversized red sunglasses and drove away, waving at the men. I giggled.

A most rewarding day. Now, I can go home in peace.

Toni Crowe retired as the Vice President of Operations to pursue her dream of being a writer. Toni has written six books, two of which won the 2019 Reader’s Choice Gold Awards. Her bestselling business book, “Bullets and Bosses Don’t Have Friends: How Do You Manage A Man Sitting With His Dick in His Hand?” was one of the winners. Her first book, “Never a $7 Whore”, was the other.

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