Have you got the new look
The sheer insanity of the outfits alone at my workplace is enough to bust a gut laughing. There’s this theory around the blogspot that one’s fashion sense usually reaches an apex around the formative high school years and is subject to change slightly thereafter. But often the espouser grasps onto this sense of self and does not let go, inadvertently revealing a time capsule of the formative years in the process. Just today, for example, we saw a woman walking down the hall with tapered jeans and a neon green T-shirt, causing us to look twice. Because, really: who does that? Clearly this woman is ascending (descending) from the 1980’s, and invoking an era we are just totally removed from, in a painfully neon green get up. It’s as though she passed and in the meanwhile did not realize that people are now ironically appropriating her same outfit, in some strange turn of events which even we cannot fully explain. “I feel like I’m in a Brett Easton Ellis novel,” someone has recently said to me in a nightclub. And, uh, yeah: it’s 80’s night, every night. Also popular around the workplace is that strange variety of shirt we have come to refer to as the old-lady, which is basically any manner of shirt that demonstrates an illogical print thereon, like flowers and leaves. Yeah, we know you’re really into the seasons and all, but that shirt is the most insane thing we’ve ever seen in our entire lives, we want to shout. Although, in conjunction with our other random outbursts, that would almost certainly result in the well established opprobrium we’ve been cultivating around the office, and so we’ve taken to snickering at a low volume in the corners of rooms. When you really add it up, though,--beyond the awe-inspiring sweat-suited masses which, we swear to god, we see in work,-- nothing is more of an affront to the senses than that mall-boy kaki which so many of our peers seem to prefer around these parts. It is, really, the screamingly tacit suggestion of your utter vapidity, and we’re pretty much sure that it is an offense to humanity on some, uh, individual basis. So, please: try harder.

All of this, though, has resulted in some minor form of self-reflection, and the end result is equally grim-seeming. We like to think that we understand the nature of commodification of fashion, and basically everything, and we are so Above. But the sad truth is, that we often appear as though we’ve just crawled from a gutter. After chiding Kari Ann recently, she retorted by pointing out that we look well-suited for positioning outside a local Hannaford. But it’s probably just a problem of interpretation. Or something. That’s what I think, anyway.