Quick Change Artist

I yearn for the days of one outfit that properly carried me through a whole day.

It has to cover dog walking, weather conditions, standing and walking and sometimes ice skating for the commute, office attire, possible social event after work and evening lounging about the house.

Back when I was teaching kids to dance everything was covered. Everything I did had to make me look presentable but comfortable, able to move, able to walk for a long time, layers to accomodate the different temperatures of the different buildings I worked in and the travel between them and I was under 25, what social event couldn't be covered by sneakers, jeans, a tee and a nice pair of earrings?

Now I'm a perpetual advertisement for a crappy remake of Working Girl. The new job allows me to dress down but it's still an office. So I end up with office pants, passable sweater and my sneakers...with gym socks. It's just not pretty, or trendy. What's nice about me is that I can still make myself put on all my new fancy makeup every day and yet be too lazy to change out of my sneakers when I get to work.

That's the crux of it, a combination of the ridiculously slothful and the rabidly efficient. I don't want to bother taking off my sneakers because it involves bending over and it's another 3 minutes when I should already be trying to look busy at work like I'm doing right now. So then I justify.

"Well, I'll do some work and change before anyone else gets in."

"Well, I just have to run an errand at lunch, why waste work time changing my shoes twice?"

"Well, I'm just going home in 8 hours anyway."

The same thing happens when I get home. I'll change my shoes to walk the dog, reasoning that she needs as long a walk as I can muster and I'll walk longer in better shoes. Then I come inside for the lounging portion of the evening and I'll leave my sneakers on for no reason. Despite my feet being hot or itchy or sweaty or up on the couch.

"I've only got to go out and walk the dog again in 3 hours anyway, why waste time changing my shoes?"

I am one mullet away from being Joan Cusack circa 1985.