I tend to dress pretty well for work. I’ve got my Express business attire that I’m actually quite proud of (working in bars, I never really had a need for a nice button down. But when I got my first grown up job 2 years ago [yes, I have been at my current place of employment for 2 years now!] – you had better believe I splurged on grown up clothes!) Every once in a great while (for meetings typically), I even go all out with a suit jacket.
Now, keep in mind that this is still Alaska – the call to be totally business chic all the time just isn’t really there. As much as I would love to pretend that I’m a high powered business woman living in the mean streets of somewhere posh and business-y like New York or DC… yeah, that isn’t exactly the case.
As such, I still own a few less than classy pieces of attire. When I first moved up here, I was not equipped for a winter in Alaska at all. The only warm things I owned were hoodies emblazoned with the name of my college – not exactly classy, or even warm for that matter. At least 90% of my wardrobe was sleeveless and centered around flip flops.
I was not prepared.
As such, I took on warm clothes as quickly as I could find them. Sometimes I got my hands on a steal, but more often than not; I was buying based on survival: the need to get through my first winter without freezing to death.
Add to this the fact that I absolutely despise shopping, and it wasn't rare for me to walk into a store and grab a few items that looked like they would fit before walking out without looking back.
Yes, I paid, but that was it. No trying on, no hemming and hawing over color; just grab, pay, and go.
This upcoming winter (my 3rd now) is actually the first where I feel fully equipped with an appropriate number of jackets and shoes. Things I like and won’t mind wearing. Items which are actually built to withstand the colder temperatures.
Still – lingering in the back of my closet are the remnants of those past shopping trips where the only goal was to get in and get out. Those clothes which are less than adorable, but which I have still yet to toss for reasons unknown.
Even more unknown are the reasons behind the days when I still grab one of these less than appealing frocks and actually go out the door wearing them.
With a closet full of clothes I actually like now, why do I feel the need to still give my ugly clothes a chance?
Today was one of those days. As I stood naked in my closet surveying the options (the plentiful options, seeing as I had just done laundry yesterday), I caught myself eyeing the ugly sweater.
Now, this sweater has no redeeming qualities at all. It’s shapeless, lifeless, and incapable of flattering anyone. Add to that the fact that it is also the most boring shade of grey ever, and there you have it – the ugliest sweater in my closet.
I can’t even take a picture of it on me for you – mostly because I’m convinced that it makes me look like a homeless crack whore who was unlucky enough to find herself living in Alaska where she was actually forced to cover up lest she freeze her ta-ta’s off.
So why (someone seriously – please tell me why) would I grab this sweater to wear today?
I think it’s because it’s there, and because I feel guilty not wearing clothes that are in my closet. A trait which I’m fairly certain completely highlights my neurosis.
This is also how I wound up wearing a wrinkled and too small green button down for my employee photos – not because it was anything that I actually found flattering, but because it was there. And because I had no idea anyone was going to be taking my photo that day.
Ugly clothes have a way of being seen.
But today I thought for sure I could hide away in my office; shielding the world from my ugly sweater. I had no meetings scheduled, and nothing major on the books – plus, as ugly as this sweater is; it’s kind of soft and comfy.
And Mondays drive me towards comfort over style.
As I left my house this morning, I felt confident that I could get away with my ugly sweater day without having to face any of my co-workers. It would be the perfect outfit to hide away in my office in. The perfect outfit to avoid any and all interactions while catching up on some of the more pressing matters on my to-do list.
So, I shouldn’t have been surprised when I walked into my office to spy hot copy machine guy repairing my copier.
The same copier that I called in a service report for on Friday (and had subsequently forgotten all about).
The same copier that was now functioning without issue.
Which means that not only did hot copy machine guy see me in my ugly sweater first thing in the morning – he also likely thinks I have now resorted to making up problems with my copier just to get him to come by and repair it.
Lovely.
After that little run-in though, I was still naïve enough to think that I could make it the rest of the day incident free.
Until I got a call from a local businessman I had been speaking to last week about some work we may have for him. He wanted to meet. Today. At one. In my office.
Sure! Of course! No problem! Come on down!
I’ll be the one in the ugly sweater.
Now convinced that my professionalism was severely in question by someone who we really do need a good working relationship with, I sunk back into my chair after bidding him adieu – hoping that I could just make it through the next 3 hours without anyone else witnessing my ugly sweater.
It was at that point that I got the e-mail announcing an all company mandatory meeting at 3:00.
Thus is the curse of the ugly sweater. The sweater that I don’t even remember buying and that I can’t for the life of me justify wearing (even as I’m putting the appalling thing on.)
The ugly sweater that will no longer hold a place in the back of my closet where the morning version of me (with poor eyes and even poorer logic) can’t fully assess the hideousness of the situation,
No, the ugly sweater and a few other choice items will be making a trip to Good Will this weekend where they belong.
Out of site, out of mind.
And out of my closet, where I am apparently tempted to wear everything I own with at least some regularity.
Despite how ugly it may be.
