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If you aren’t famous, working in retail is one of the few places your day-to-day life can start to feel like an episode of Fashion Police. (Case in point: yesterday a customer approached me and demanded to know a.) where I had purchased my pants and b.) what size they were and c.) why I wasn’t wearing skinny jeans. Like you do, to another actual adult whose name you don’t actually know.)

I’ve been scooting around the Gap (in part because it’s one of three stores that sells clothing for women in my age-range in this town, and in part because no matter how badly my academic career is going, the Gap is always happy to pay me) in Tencel joggers all summer because that was their big push last spring and they’re comfy as fuck. I AM TRENDY-ADJACENT BUT IT ALSO FEELS LIKE I’M NOT WEARING PANTS.

This morning, I traded the joggers out for this thing, a belt, and a scarf because ... I don’t know? Sad, square-state attempt at fashion? My ladybits wanted to breathe? Maybe the joggers were super wrinkly? I’m not sure. It’s from the new product, I thought I’d be safe from comment and/or reprimand, unless the comments came in the form of fawning. “You look almost cute today, FluterDale!” was the aspiration.

Of course, this morning was the morning we decided to do TEAM BUILDING EXERCISES. This morning’s TBE was, “Describe your coworker’s sense of style in one sentence.”


From a coworker, “I feel like FluterDale’s style is ... I want to look polished, but I also want to wear a giant t-shirt.”

... not sure if offended? There are pockets in my giant t-shirt, so ... FUCK YEAH, I guess.

Describe your style in one sentence. Bonus points if you’re flippant and/or vaguely condescending. (Note: I already took, “I am not wearing pants and it’s ok to be in public,” at this morning’s meeting. Get your own snark!)

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