Things That Burn My Biscuits: Business Attire Edition

Anyone who knows me knows that I am not a fan of dressing up in business attire. ­I guess I don’t mind for special occasions like church services, weddings, or probation meetings, but on a typical day I just don’t see the point. I work in a tiny cubicle in a tiny office, and only a handful of people see me each day, none of which are customers. As a marketing professional, I sit quietly at my desk and market things/write silly blogs, so why am I dressed like a bar mitzvah is about to break out?

If it were up to me I would wear jeans and a t-shirt every day of my life, because having to wear business attire is a terrible crime against comfort the likes of which The Mongols would have enforced if it weren't easier to just burn entire cities. The reasons for this are many-fold, and I am about to go into excruciating detail. And while I’m typing this I am currently wearing slacks, a collared shirt, and a tie, so I can guarantee that my trivial rage will be fresh. These burned biscuits are straight from the oven. Enjoy!

The Pants

Dress pants come in a variety of shapes, colors, and materials, but they all have one thing in common – they were tailored by the devil to maximize discomfort. The waist bands of most slacks were designed to rest on top of your hips, if your hips started somewhere in the middle of your sternum. Adding to the discomfort is the fact that you are required, by society, to tuck two shirts (under and outer) into this waistband. And then you’ve still got your underwear all up in the mix. You know how a butterfly flapping its wings is said to cause a hurricane somewhere on the other side of the world? Well now that all of your main articles of clothing converge at your pants’ waist band, moving your arms can create a ripple effect resulting in a wedgie in your southern hemisphere.

And then there are the pockets. Ninety-seven percent of all dress pant pocket openings are cut diagonally at an angle carefully measured by Beelzebub to evacuate all your belongings as soon as you sit down. Because if there’s one thing Ol’ Scratch delights in, it's making you lose your quarters for the Coke machine.

  

 “WHERE ARE MY QUARTERS??!!….

There. Will. Be. Blood!”

The Tie

Wearing a tie is much like being constantly strangled by a little old lady with arthritis. It won’t restrict your breathing, but you’ll certainly notice it.

“Funny…I don’t remember putting a tie on this morning…”

If a golden formula for tying a tie the correct length exists, I am not privy to it. I’d say on average it takes me 1,713 attempts before the small strand does not exceed the big strand, or the big strand does not exceed my knees. On the rare occasion that I get it right on the first try, the heavens part, a single ray of sunlight shines directly on my chest, and a choir of angels sing Handel’s “Hallelujah” chorus. That’s when I know it’s going to be a good day.

  

The Socks and Shoes

Dress socks come up comically high on your leg, which I guess they have to, because many dress pant legs recede like the tide before a tsunami when you sit down. If the socks came up any higher, they would have to be reclassified as panty hose. At best, when I wear them, I feel like a kid at an early 80’s summer camp.

The marketing firm of Finkelstein & Nehisock

Dress shoes come in two different comfort categories – Vietnamese Rice Field Sandals and Dutch Wooden Clogs. And for the women there’s Chinese Foot Binding. I wore slip-on street shoes to work the other day, because I ran out of black dress socks and wearing white ankle socks would have looked ridiculous, and it felt like I was walking on clouds. There was just something about wearing comfortable shoes out of context that made it feel so much better. Of course my boss immediately noticed, because he notices if I don’t shave or if there is a wrinkle in my shirt (there is always a wrinkle in my shirt). But for that one day, I felt like Mr. Rogers would have felt had he ever put on his Keds before going to work.

"9 a.m and I'm wearing tennis shoes? I'm feeling saucy!"

Bonus Gripe: Casual Day

Bosses know good and well that their employees hate dressing up for work every day, and they exploit it by offering casual days as a prize for superb performance (this does not include my boss, who wouldn't offer a casual day if I lost my clothes in a fire). It just feels like being a little kid and receiving a gold star. It’s so patronizing. But don’t get me wrong – I would still throw you under a metaphorical and physical bus if I thought it would result in me being able to wear a t-shirt to work. I just don’t like comfort being harnessed as a weapon, or, as the boss sees it, being used as a motivator. “Congratulations! You have earned the right to be comfortable!” Gee. Thanks. Prisoners may lead a rough life, but you can’t argue that at least their wardrobe looks comfy.

“I killed my co-worker when I lost my soda quarters.

And then I was sentenced to 20 years of casual Fridays.”

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So now that you've read 900 words of me complaining, let me say that I, of course, am grateful to have a job, and that I know it could be much, much worse. I realize some dress standards have to be present, or else the office would descend into a stained-pajama-and-inappropriate-slogan-shirt fiasco. But if I can't vent my pathetic and frivolous frustrations to the internet, who can I turn to? So thanks, Internet, for being an attentive ear. Let me return the favor by stating your least favorite dress code in the comments. Let it out, Internet. Let it out.

For more steaming piles of insignificant vitriol, read The Holiday Edition and the Public Bathroom Edition.