The Slobbification of America

I freely admit that I have never felt like one of the pretty girls--never ever.  And I really am not that smart nor have I ever had that much money.  So, maybe because I have never felt like or had any of those things, I work harder to be all of these things so none of that shows.

And because I work hard to appear "put together", I hear things like, "Oh, do you look this nice for everyone?" from Dr. Pain--obviously, Dr. Pain is my pain management physician; "Gosh, you look nice; are you always this dressed up?" from Dr. Headshrinker, which BT-dubs has to mean something because everything means something on his couch.  "You look pretty today, but you look pretty everyday!" from the girls and boys at work.  "You always smell so nice" and its Sunday morning at our neighborhood breakfast nook.

In the '90s, when the casual Friday phenomenon first took hold, people opined that they did their very best work when they were comfortable and wearing relaxed clothing. Unfortunately, exactly the opposite was true.  Studies showed that productivity went down and people did not treat each other as professionally when they were not wearing their "work uniform".  Basically, if you dress like you are going to a BBQ/swapmeet/potluck/garage sale, you will work/act like you are at a BBQ/swapmeet/potluck/garage sale.

And let's be honest, it wasn't until after the grunge movement of the very early 1990s when clothing options and stylings of the casual Friday mom-jeans transformed into the fully slobbified versions of the 2000s with just about every Ugg-boot footed gal sporting the de rigueur double-camisole top with or without the coordinated or even clean bra strap peeking out from underneath and the super skinny long slinky neck scarf and gauntlets with the uber low-slung pajama-pant bottom. And let's just call a spade a damn shovel: Everyone, quite frankly, started to smell like bong water or dirty hair or ass or dude or really I don't even want to think about what everyone started to smell like, but it was bad and not in a stay-cool-Slipknot-slang sic sorta way, either.

 Clearly, I do not believe in being part of the slobbification of America--never have; never will.

It may sound exhausting and prideful, but I think to myself, what should I let go?  My hair? Just throw a Hurley cap on over 3-day-old-dirty hair?  Don't put on a nice clean outfit everyday? Maybe I should just pull on some dirty ol' sweat pants and flip-flops?  Wear no make-up?  That is not good for anybody who has to look at me! And. I. Just. Cannot. Do. That.

Every single day I pick out an outfit, not an especially expensive nor trendy outfit, with a decent pair of shoes and make sure that my hair is "done" and carry one of the only two nice handbags I own because it comes down to mostly this:  I believe that by doing these things I say, "I respect and care about you as my coworkers and my doctors and my trainers and my dentist and hygienist and my hair stylists and my manicurists.  And because I care about you, I am going to get up every day and show you that you are worth it to me by showing up looking nice for you."

And please do not get the idea that I have the big pants for myself or that I am a snobbish designer-only-kinda-gal; I am equal opportunity all the way, baby--I am perfectly willing to pair my precious banged-up-worn-every-single-day Tiffany cuff with Target pleather with JCrew cashmere.

I truly believe that I serve the people around me and they deserve the best from me. To me, it demonstrates to you exactly what you mean to me.  This goes hand in hand with being on time and all the proper pleasantries and courtesies of a caring and decent society, as well as taking care of those I love and well, you get the idea.

So, yes, I guess you can call me prideful.  But I do it for you!

xoxo Darya