This is not my closet, but it could be.
I haven’t disappeared from the Interblog community, I’ve been working. That’s where I am when I disappear, I’m working. One of the drawbacks of working at home is that sometimes you’re always working. You don’t get to quit at 5 o’clock. My sister called me at 9:30 one night and I told her I couldn’t talk because I was on deadline. She said, “You’re ALWAYS on deadline.” I had to explain to her that yes, I usually am always working on deadline.
Which brings me to the topic of clothes. Last week I actually had to leave the house and go in to the office to meet with a co-worker who also works from home. We spent the first hour smoking cigarettes in my truck and discussing how difficult it was for each of us to find something to wear to work that day, because when you work at home your wardrobe becomes bizarre. My daily work clothes consist of a sarong, a tank top, and flip-flops; hers is a pair of jeans, an oversized T-shirt, and sneakers. This is common with people who generally don’t leave the house, and when you have to actually go to an office for the day, you’re left wondering what the hell to wear.
So I finished up my deadline this weekend, and this morning Buck comes into my office (where I was polishing a lampshade) with a laundry basket of clean clothes he’d washed and folded and has been sitting in the laundry room for, oh, two months maybe? They’re all my clothes and he asked me to do something about it. I looked at the clothes, remembered my conversation with my co-worker last week, and thought to myself: Fuck this. Why the hell do I have all these clothes?! Because I NEVER wear them, and I HATE dealing with clothes.
So that’s what I’m doing today, boxing up 3/4 of my wardrobe and taking it to the Goodwill bin tomorrow. Even if it means talking to that crazy guy with no teeth who lives in the bin, I am going there and giving him all my clothes. Let’s just hope I don’t see him wandering around the parking lot in the shift I bought at the GAP three years ago and have never worn.
I am happy to see you back. I missed you. Barbara said you had a helluva visit to Juarez. Scary, Scary.
I don’t own many clothes. I have two pair of jeans that fit, a few long sleeve t-shirts that are way too big and a summer and winter costume. I just ordered a short sleeve t-shirt from L.L. Bean. I hope it fits. When I first retired all I wore were pajamas for the longest time. Then I started to force myself to at least put on my jeans and a t-shirt whether I am leaving the house or not.
The toothless guy lives in the bin? I think I would prefer a homeless shelter.
Oh my goodness I would love to wear a tank-top and a sarong to the office!…maybe one of these days they’ll loosen the dress-code regulations….
@ Joan – That shirt you’ve ordered from LL Bean will last forever. I have shirts from there that I’ve had for 10 or 15 years and they look brand new. Which is part of the problem, I always feel weird about getting rid of clothes that look new. But for me there’s just no point in keeping all this stuff.
@ Romi – Don’t wait for your employer to loosen the dress code … just take it. I’m pretty sure you can’t be fired because of your wardrobe.
there’s a crazy guy with no teeth in all neighborhoods i feel. that’s so weird.
Way cool on donating all of your stuff to the bin dweller.
I too detest clothes. Mr J buys me fancy smancy suits and dresses to wear to work. I push them to the back of the closet and grimace about which pair of jeans and t-shirt to wear instead.
He is afraid we will end up looking like a Jerry Springer couple if I continue dressing like this.
@ betme – I’m hip to your pain. Buck and I look like a homeless couple, not unlike the bin dweller.
The clothes that the homeless wear may not be chic, but they are much more comfortable than the runway crap that mocks me in my closet.
(and when I find the person responsible for the invention of pantyhose, I am going to wrap a pair tightly around HIS neck and tie a stylish bow.)
@ aniche – I know, right? Why is this? Can’t they be scooped up and moved to a commune somewhere in Vermont? Like the zombies in I Am Legend?
@ betme - I threw away all my pantyhose, tossed it in the trash, even the expensive “with tummy-flattering panel” ones. Suck it, pantyhose.
I agree with you and Betme…pantyhose are evil spawn. When I started here, my boss laughed at me because I asked her 3 times if I had to wear pantyhose (we don’t). She doesn’t know what it’s like to sweat in those things. ECK.
Your at-home work uniform sounds perfect!
Now that I’m back in the corporate world, I really hate it that they won’t let me show up in my nightgown. What’s wrong with them?
I hope betme does track down that pantyhose guy (it HAS to be a guy– no woman would inflict kind of misery on herself), and that she films the strangulation. I’m sure she’d be sainted.
P.S. Thank you for telling us about the crazy guy who lives in the Goodwill bin. That’s sort of amazing.
Moonbeam McQueen has a point. No complaints here! – Tiffany Orkin