A long time ago in an office way up high, there worked an adorable, little intern that liked to wear pink mini dresses and Pucci heals. Sometimes she wore turquoise mini dresses with Jimmy Choo slides. Other days she wore white mini-dresses with knee-high boots. Her skin was perpetually tan, her hair perfectly coifed. In other words, the personification of a gum drop.
Then, one day, the evil office manager walked into Gum Drop’s office, closed the door and had a very brief conversation with her. She opened the door, crossed the hall and sat down in front of my desk. Office Manager explained to me that she had to have a talk with Gum Drop about the length of her skirt. It seems clients were complaining that they were just too short and not professional.
I looked across the hall at Gum Drop, wishing I had her courage to wear coral, and wondered when she ever met a client. I then wonder which of our clients complained considering most of our clients are men and I couldn’t picture any of them complaining about having to look at Gum Drop’s legs.
I then looked back at the Office Manager, a woman that also liked to wear dresses, though hers were mostly neutral tones, and heals, but in black or brown.
And then, one day, Gum Drop left our drab and dreary land for a place (that I hope) appreciated her South Beach Barbie ways.
I bring up Gum Drop because today I had a client meeting. And because I am very serious and very professional, I put on my black suit and I straightened my hair and I wore pearl earrings and a neutral toned lipstick. I did everything I believed one should do when meeting a client and wanting to win them over with one’s brain, not beauty. My outfit would make Office Manager proud.
A few minutes before the meeting my coworker and cohort for the next hour step into my office. I was just finishing up some work when she asked if I was ready for this meeting.
“Yeah,” I responded. “I just need to finish up this one thing.”
To which she responded, and actually she responded before I could finish, “I even wore my special dress today.”
This was when I looked up to see what my senior, in all the ways that implies, co-worker was wearing.
Do you remember the green dress JLo wore to the Grammy’s? Well it wasn’t that bad, but pretty darn close. On top, I could see her bra and at the bottom, I could see a whole lotta thigh. Actually now that I think about it, while it wasn’t as revealing as JLo’s dress, the green dress might have had more fabric overall. It certainly was more fashionable. And had my co-worker selected this dress for a night out with the girls, or an eighth grade dance, perhaps I wouldn’t be so shocked.
Instead, she chose to wear it into my office. I quickly averted my eyes, hoping I had looked away in time to avoid any face contortions. I then told her to go ahead without me, as my last couple of things would surely take me more than a few minutes.
When I finally did leave for the meeting, I left my suit coat at my desk in an effort to not look too dressed up next to the Brat Doll’s Mom that would be running the show.
Later, as I walked out of our meeting, wishing BDM (Brat Doll's Mom) would not get up to shake hands with the clients, I wondered if there would be any “complaints” made about her and her mini dress.
My money is on BDM remaining un-reprimanded.