All the time Sometimes, I feel like Cher Horowitz when she says, “So okay, I don’t want to be a traitor to my generation and all, but I don’t get how guys dress today. I mean, come on, it looks like they just fell out of bed, put on some baggy pants and take their greasy hair (ew) and cover it up with a backwards baseball cap and, like, we’re expect to swoon? I don’t think so.”
Replace the words “generation” with “fellow Midtown slaves” and “guys” with “office workers” and you’ll understand what I’m dealing with in Midtown. Because it’s the twenty-first century, the one minor concession certain businesses have made to their worker bees in exchange for them to continue working in the twentieth century manner of actually being at a desk all day is to look the other way when someone rolls in looking like they’ve just rolled out (of bed).
And while I’m all for subversive rebellion, the sartorial kind is not an acceptable form of sabotage, as you’re only sabotaging yourself. Plus, aren’t they paying you enough to at least hit the TJ Maxx skirt suit section?