Yesterday Miss Q and I went for a run. A risky move you might have thought, given the high chance of rain, but every time I hang out clothes it rains and every time I kill the environment and use the dryer it doesn’t, so I put Gregory’s chef jackets in the dryer thereby ensuring myself a rain-free run.
Over the Anzac Bridge we went and passed an office building where a fire alarm had gone off so all the workers were standing on the street and footpath, strung out like Brown’s cows COMPLETELY OBLIVIOUS to the woman pushing a pram, trying to forge a path through the throng, which forced her to slow her canter to a jerky stop-start walk.
While navigating through the HR directors and project managers, I had no choice but to observe their attire and became increasingly uncomfortably with their choice of attire.
Given my activity, I had dressed appropriately in running pants and an exercise top. (So had Q just in case I got to tired and she had to get out of her chariot and run).
Now I’ve never had an office job, so I can’t be sure, but I’m pretty certain what I saw wasn’t appropriate.
Here is how the women were attired:
Leggings – that’s fine. I was wearing them too…to run in.
Nine-inch nails – not the band. The heels. Seriously. The angle of the instep required was steeper than Sydney rent.
Shorts – short, shiny, black shorts that were so tight most of the wearers were sporting a lovely little camel toe.
Singlet – sparkly and frilly but a singlet none the less. It’s winter.
Scarf – again, it’s winter. Are you hot or are you cold? It’s like the women in LA who wear mini-skirts and ugg boots. I don’t understand. It doesn’t make any sense to me. These women had goose bumps on their exposed arms, but their necks were warm. Which would be great if they were singers, but I’m assuming that they aren’t.
I have worn an outfit like that.
But I was on the stage doing a production of Chicago so it didn’t look quite so odd.
Whatever happened to pinstriped skirts and crisp collared shirts?
Or am I showing my age?