Emperor needs new clothes

TODAY is Friday, or more specifically Office Casual Dress Friday, the most stressful day in the working week.

As a young man, oh how I heckled the females in my life who complained bitterly of the daily decision-making process about what to wear to work.

I found it difficult to relate to their problem, for my own daily routine in suiting up for work was a lay-down misere; attire for Monday to Thursday consisted of one generic business shirt, one generic pair of business pants, generic black socks and black shoes. Dressed for work in 20 seconds.
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Casual Dress Friday was then met with a spring in my step as I had the time, financial resources and relative physique to align my casual attire to the fashions. Brand-name jeans accentuated my pre-sagging gluteus maximums; fitted shirts did not subconsciously ride up over my pre-expanding man-belly; my leather shoes were bought from a high street boutique, not an orthotic clinic. In short, I could confidently mix it with my female co-workers on the office runway.

Fast forward 20 years - and 20 pounds - and the thought of Casual Dress Friday sends me into a fashion conniption.

Previously I could never understand how my partner could stand in front of a wardrobe, a virtual clothes store in itself, and gaze blankly for hours with no solution in sight.

Fast forward 20 years and that person is now me. I have become that father whose fashion sense makes his daughters cringe with embarrassment whenever I set foot outside of the house.

There is no smart casual in my wardrobe. Instead it consists of clothing from two extreme poles of fashion: beige business shirts and beige pants to accentuate my appearance as a beige accountant, bookended with holding-on-to-my-youth articles of clothing such as an old football tracksuit and a prized 1984 Bruce Springsteen Born in the USA replica T-shirt.

As for polo shirts and chino pants, there will never be a better example of mutton dressed as lamb than if I tried to squeeze my bones into anything bearing a designer label.

So what am I wearing to work today? I have put together a casual ensemble consisting of one generic work shirt with one pair of generic work pants. And the casual item? A panicked, desperado accessory in the form of dull grey PVC sneakers which, viewed from a distance of 30 metres, could be mistaken for dull grey generic work shoes.

Oh, how all the females in my life now heckle me on Fridays.