I have the privilege of being employed with a company that doesn’t require me to dress like a stockbroker.
On any given day, I can come to work dressed like an average joe in T-shirt and jeans. Of course, there are a number of highly ambitious people who dress to the 9’s in the hopes that they will be recognized by the upper management on Mount Olympus and appropriately elevated to that place of prestige for which they so often salivate.
A few years back, a previous supervisor of mine showed up in her standard power-packed pant suit, eye-balled my street clothing with disdain and quipped:
“Always dress for the job you want, not the one you have now.”
To this I replied:
“Hmmm, well, I long to be a brilliant writer with a potential alcohol problem. Since my jeans are well-fitting and this wrinkle-free T-shirt smells fresh like Downy, and I don’t smell like a heady cocktail of vodka and dry urine, I’d say I am fairly overdressed for the job I want, wouldn’t you?”
I never received a response. Go figure.