I guess it’s a dare. It’s not quite a bet, since nobody wanted to lay cash on the table.
And Facebook is on fire with excitement. (I work with either some very bored people or this is just too much for them to believe.)
I’m not quite sure how I agreed to do this, but on Tuesday I will go to work as “Business Christine” — full on corporate drag coupled with a warm yet business-like demeanor.
S. thinks I can only hold up a serious business attitude until 10:10 am. Funny that, he worked with me in the early days (when I was still dealing with the after effects of leaving the corporate word) but he claims he can’t remember those days.
I don’t have to go shopping to do this. As I mentioned to my colleagues, I do have to attend dressy events on occasion: people get married, they have babies, they have significant anniversary parties and they die — so I have several outfits that could work.
I, of course, have suits that I wear to work on occasion — which my colleagues have indeed seen. But one of my pant suits — as I have been sternly advised — is not going to cut it this time. A skirt suit and heels has been demanded.
No, I am not going to paint my nails or wear false eyelashes — but thank you for the (utterly insane) suggestion, M. And according to K. I already have nice hair — thanks K. — so I don’t need a hair intervention. Make-up? No, although K. does recall my wearing mascara in the distant past. (I do rarely wear mascara for fancy evening events — it makes my eyes pop — but almost never to work. I also briefly wore powder when my skin rebelled in my mid-thirties, but thank heavens that got better and I could go back to baring my (not-so) flawless complexion).
I was thinking about wearing the black pencil skirt with the lime jacket but I can’t find the shoes to go with that outfit. (I scoured my storage locker today with no success). But I did find another pair of shoes that will go with my black suit and grey patterned top — so that looks like the winner by default.
No, this is not the start of any life-altering change. No, I am not giving up jeans, belt buckles and sneakers. No, I am not going to start shopping at Talbot’s. No, no and no.
It’s just going to be a bit of harmless fun. Well, fun for them. Me, I will count the minutes until it’s over. But I am not one to walk away from a dare.
Oh, and J. is in charge of photos. And photos will need to be taken as I am never doing this ever again.