Dress Code

I never seem to be wearing the right thing.
Beginning in High School, I always seemed to be getting in trouble for wearing the wrong thing.
You see, I spent 21/2 years in private Catholic School. And yes, this involved white button up shirts, standard regulation navy skirts, standard regulation navy cardigans, and even standard regulation sweater vests.

But the cardigans were of some bulky acrylic blend (it was the 80's, synthetic fibers were not what they are today.) that had no shape and fitted poorly. Actually, I'm wrong. They actually were of some weird square shape; but they still fitted poorly. I much preferred my vintage navy blue argyle sweater. It was warmer and it gave me just the right oldey timey studious look. But Sister Mary Annetta begged to differ. So did Dean Whats-Her-Face. I always did an about face in the halls once I saw Dean WHF. On some days it was like the gunfight at the OK Corral, a showdown between Good and Evil. Sometimes Evil prevailed and I got my share of demerits.

One Christmas in the early 90's I earned some extra Christmas money working at JcPenney's for the Holidays. If there were ever a 9th Circle of Hell, well, I would rank this the 8th. JcP, and my Manager Mary Falwell, in particular, was a stickler for dress code. She had a real problem when I wore pants that were not part of a 2pc suit. I'm sure she was also pretty peeved that my pants weren't polyester but I don't believe that was actually stated in the employee handbook. So for two months I spent a lot of time avoiding Mgr Falwell each time I saw her in the employee lunchroom. Lucky for me, no demerits.

My place of work decided to reinforce a "luxury" look last year. Basically insinuating that we all dress like shmoes. I know I'm usually pretty fabulous so it wasn't an issue. But today I wore my lavender corduroys to work. They're soft, with sandblasted whiskers, and boot cut. Not wool slacks, but they're fashionable and as long as they're not denim, I'm in the clear. It was cold. I knew it would be a long 10 hour day and I needed my comfy pants. Unfortunately I bumped into the Executvive Assistant that I like to call Sargeant Fox. You know the type, drunk with power. Well she likes to take issue with these pants everytime I wear them.
"Deezy, are those jeans??"
"No Sargeant. They're corduroys. We go through this everytime I wear these!"
"MMm.... girl! You are really pushin' it."
This said the woman who was one step away from wearing sweats today..........