The children began school today (September 2nd.) Which means that Mrs. E. and I were summoned to meet with teachers and handed out books of information that are required reading, especially in order that we be prepared for tomorrow.
As many of you know, I work from home. But my public persona has wavered very little since I began working “real jobs.”
Well, there was a brief period of wearing espadrilles and pastel shades to the State Department that raised a few eyebrows. Ah, the Miami Vice aesthetic… or lack thereof.
In general, however, I tend to dress as well as I know how. When, inevitably, I am asked what I do, I reply that I write. A blog, mostly, with some other marketing and advertising work thrown in when strictly necessary. I call it “TheOverDressedWriter.com.” I hope that it lessens the disappointment when it is discovered that I am neither famous novelist nor corporate Master of the Universe. Dressing up, you see, tends to grant you attributes which you may not possess.
I’m sure that some of it is competitive at this point. In that Machiavelliankind of way. Which will explain part of reason that I chose the combination you see above. Navy chalk stripes and bright yellow accents are a powerful combination. The shirt is custom made glen plaid with a yellow windowpane overlay. The shoes are a gleaming designer brand with a ridiculously elongated toe and tight waist and are unlikely to be seen within a hundred miles of me so foreign do they seem. I hope the message I’m sending is that I may work from home, but I take it seriously and I’m good at what I do.
But that’s half the story. It’s what you don’t see — the braces that ensure my trousers maintain an elegant line, the working button holes on the surgeon’s cuffs, the monogram that hides in the hollow of my rib cage opposite the sixth button on my shirt, the leather jotter and engraved business cards, the bright yellow socks — that flesh out my internal dialogue. Those things I alone know about. And they are there strictly to please me.
Like that yellow tie. It’s a summer classic and its days are numbered as Labor Day approaches. It leaps out that yellow, a joyful flash of bright summer against a dark business suit.
And today, as my daughter begins schooling in earnest and cannnot wait for the day to begin and my son wants to skip breakfast and leave immediately for his preschool, I am as proud as a peacock.