La Triv has rarely been anything other than gainfully employed. This is a source of some regret, rather than a gloat. Aside from taking time out to care for los loin fruits just after they entered the world, squinting at the light like small nocturnal marsupials rudely ripped from their cosy logs, los days post formal education have largely been spent weaving a Triv-sized seam in the rich fabric of corporate life.
Of course, in challenging economic times such as these, a job – and a functioning career – are ruddy handy things to have.
But looking back from the purview of someone now over
40 35, a tad more aimless backpacking, base jumping and reckless love affairs with Croatian motor boat captains wouldn’t have gone astray. But that’s a topic for another time, another post…
In many years at various Wordporia, shimmying between the pods, carels and hot desks, surfing los lifts, clocking in and out and generally nibbling from the corporate trough, La’ve witnessed my fair share of lady officewear trends come and go.
Which is why I am well qualified to say, WTF is with the corporate short?
Every now and then our ladymags trumpet “New Looks for the Nine to Five!” and “Refresh Your Workwear!” — then serve us up page after page of knee-baring shorts paired with tailored jackets. And sometimes, they are even leather. And laser-etched. And apparently us working girls are supposed to sport them within conditioned high-rise air thick with the aroma of testosterone, while maintaining our dignity.
I know women are supposed to be multi-taskers extraordinaires, but this is just a Daisy Duke too far.
No man or woman with whom I work deserves to be exposed to the magnificent spectre of los knees, joints which proudly wear their surgical scars, thanks to the famous Cafe Neon/Whitney Houston dancing debacle of 1990, and excess pillows of flesh due to post-injury atrophication. (That’s my excuse for chubby knees, and I’m sticking with it.)
But wouldn’t it be fun to see the male primates of our corporate jungles swinging from los fluoro lights in these?
It’s a step up from the ‘walk short’ look one might have found Il Pappa Trivialista sporting circa 1978. Or is it?
I don’t have a crystal ball here beneath los dusty rafters of Palazzo Trivialista, but let’s put it out there anyhow: despite the best efforts of idea-starved fash mag eds, the corporate short will not become a common sight in my working lifetime.
And that’s the leather-trimmed, laser-etched truth of it.