To know me is to know of my distaste for suits. And slacks. And ties. Or for fashion in general. (Which is probably costing me some serious princess points!)
In my lifetime I’ve never felt comfortable in what I consider “dress clothes.” Or Sunday-go-to-meetin’ clothes. Maybe because I’ve never had anything that fit quite right. Or maybe just trauma from being dressed up as a kid.
Or perhaps at heart I’m just a schlub.
With the summer heat sucking the life out of everyone, my inclination is to arrive at the office in shorts, a polo, and tennis shoes. This is particularly true on the days I don’t have client meetings.
Except last Friday I had an unexpected request from a past client to meet that afternoon. Should I run home and change? Should I not go? Or should I beat myself up for not having a backup set of clothes for these moments?
Instead I let my client know I would be looking casual. He in turn answered the door in shorts, a t-shirt (tucked in) and sandals. Letting me know that what I was wearing wasn’t that important.
Bear in mind I have a friend who no matter when you see him, he’s put together. The only time that wasn’t true was in the hospital after having four strokes. Yet even then, though he could only hold anything in his right hand, that hand held an electric razor so he looked somewhat presentable for visitors. And even afterwards, visiting him at home during his recovery, he still made a track suit look stylish!
I, on the other hand, keep thinking of the adage of dressing for the job you want, not the job you have. And I probably look like I should be asking if you want fries with that.
And then I remember: I have the job I want.
And as it turns out, my boss is pretty casual.