Monday, June 12, 2006

Eliza Doolittle, eat your heart out

We have a lady named T that works in our office. T is probably around 45 years old and she has quite a unique fashion sense. To give a little insight, until about 5 years ago she was working as one of our company’s field superintendents when she was given an opportunity to take an office job. And let’s just say that she didn’t exactly fit in. For starters, she is extremely masculine looking, complete with a deep, husky voice. And no, she’s happily married to a guy and doesn’t have an adam’s apple, so don’t get any weird ideas.

Anyhow, her first few years in the office were pretty rough. Her personal hygiene left a lot to be desired – usually by lunchtime between her body odor and her breath there was a green fog hanging in the hallway outside of her office. Eventually it got so bad that two of the female managers had to take her into the conference room and discuss the need for daily bathing and breath mints. Also, they told her that she needed to spruce up her wardrobe a little and stop wearing baseball hats and overalls to work every day, especially on days she was in client meetings.

And there began the modern Pygmalion. She took this advice extremely seriously. Perhaps too seriously. She spent a lot of money getting her teeth fixed (half of them were rotten), started wearing makeup and perfume, and the clothes…my God, the clothes. A typical outfit for say a cold day in February would be white pants, white hooded windbreaker, turquoise colored t-shirt, a huge turquoise belt, and then some horrid white platform sneaker/shoe things. Oh, and don’t forget the turquoise socks. If you’ve ever seen the movie Boomerang, where Eddie Murphy’s friend brings his dad for dinner and the guy is wearing a brown polyester leisure suit accentuated with mushroom-print lining, a mushroom belt, and a mushroom shirt, then you can envision what T looks like on a daily basis.

Apparently on Friday, I missed the fashion crime of the century. The lunchtime recap:

A: Liz, you missed it on Friday. You should’ve seen what T wore to work.

Me: It can’t be any worse than that horrible green jumpsuit thingy she wore back in March. Right?

C: Oh no, it’s worse. Much worse.

A: Picture this – Pink t-shirt.

Me: Okay…

A: Black silky running shorts. That were tight. And short. Very short. So short they are permanently seared into my brain.

Me: (shuddering) Uh-huh…

A: A hot pink baseball cap. White socks. And white high-heeled shoes.

Me: Pumps? Stilettos? And what kind of socks?

A: Pumps. Open-toe pumps. And tube socks.

Me: For the love of all things holy, what the hell was she thinking?

C: Apparently, she and (husband’s name) were headed out of town right after work.

Me: Where? I mean, where would you go dressed like that?

C: A bowling convention or something.

Me: A bowling convention? I’d like to see her bowl in that outfit!

A: I think that was her formal look for the opening night cocktail party, but I’m not sure.

God, I wish someone had taken a picture. Seriously. I would totally send it in to What Not to Wear just to see Stacy and Clinton stroke out on national television.

2 comments:

mothergoosemouse said...

Nuh-UH.

Someone must have gotten a picture, what with all the camera phones out there. That sounds too terrifying not to capture on film (kind of like Bigfoot).

Heather said...

Totally agree with Julie, SOMEONE must have a picture--but they are selling it to a tabloid? I definitley think Stacy & Clinton would have a field day!