“Weddings and funerals,” my father used to say, “are the only times you will ever catch me in a monkey suit.” He was a lawyer who spent the better part of 40 years in a Brooks Brothers nightmare.
When I first started at this joint many moons ago, it was pretty straight-laced. The boss came in wearing a suit every day. The women were Photoshopped to perfection. It was late May and the weather was really heating up. For the first week or so, I came in with khakis and a polo shirt. And I was fuckin’ greasy, sweaty mess.
One day I wasn’t supposed to be in the office but I got a call: “Hey, could you come down here for a few minutes?” Sure.
I rolled up in my standard uniform, which as @Rocket knows is standard shorts, t-shirt, and flip-flops. The boss immediately made a comment about my appearance, not necessarily bad - something along the lines of “You look comfortable” and I said, “I am comfortable. What part of my job requires me to get dressed up anyway?” [P.S. I’m a writer who has zero contact with the public.]
The boss replied that as a rich and powerful man, he needed to dress up to his part. I said, “Have you ever seen what Bill Gates looks like on a daily basis? How about the Facebook idiot? The richest guy I’ve ever known never wore anything but Aloha shirts and cargo shorts - no shoes. Dude was a billionaire.” Man, I saw the light go on over his head.
The very next day, the boss rolled into the office wearing basically a copy of my uniform. He was righteously chuffed, too. It was like a new “thing” for him. Since then I literally come into the office wearing whatever I passed out in last night - sometimes with food and beverage stains. I misplaced my glasses last night so I’m wearing sunglasses right now. Seriously. Ray Charles blackout glasses. Not very professional, but that shit went out the window years ago.
As weird as it is to say, the boss has followed my lead in the attire department ever since. From April to November, it’s a fuckin’ beach party in here. When he has to meet with important people, he ducks into the bathroom and puts on the suit. When the meeting is over, he’s back into the uniform.
Meanwhile, it has always been a bit of counter-intuitive logic that dressing down has its advantages. For one thing, I am completely under-estimated wherever I go because I look like Moby and The Dude had a 40-something year-old baby. At the same time, I’m about as comfortable as I can be. That’s important to me. If I had to start getting dolled up, I’d find a new line of work.
