Don't Kill the Redshirt

Someone call the fashion police! I've been mugged!

Actually - I mean this - my boss is really nice. For our upcoming conference, we coordinators have to dress alike - matching-colored button-down shirts, and matching pants, skirts or capris - in order to be readily visible to our easily confused attendees.

You may or may not know this, but meeting planners tend to regard their attendees as being almost, but not quite, as intelligent as a particularly inbred flock of sheep. It is not to be expected that they would be able to identify us by sight if we weren't in some sort of uniform.

"You just need three solid-colored, button-down shirts," my boss told me, "one white, one red, and one either denim or dark blue. The sleeves can be any length, they just have to be button-down."

And I think it occurred to her, from what she's seen of my wardrobe so far, that I'm not really given to things with collars, because in order to save me from the purchase of at least one clothing item she brought me a spare red shirt which she had purchased, but never worn. This was really exceptionally nice of her. I took it home. Katie saw it. She screamed.

Flattering? No. Being told I could get any kind of button-down shirt, I figured I'd go for the feminine, tailored ones with elbow-length sleeves. The white one and the blue one, maybe. This red one could just as easily be a man's shirt. It buttons all the way up to the neck, but it doesn't matter if you leave it partly unbuttoned: it's a heavy, high-quality cotton twill that holds its shape no matter what you do. I stood in front of the mirror and turned this way and that, wondering if I could put a couple of darts in it maybe. Katie wrung her hands. She found the tortoiseshell buttons particularly offensive.

But that's enough griping. This was really nice of my boss, there's no question of that. Maybe if my parents had sent me to Catholic school as a child, I'd be better prepared to sacrifice my personal style for a higher cause. But no. They had to be atheists. Thanks a lot, parents!

It's okay, though. Just as long as white shoes aren't part of the outfit, because our conference is before Memorial Day, and I would just have to quit my job.

Actually, when you get down to it, this would make a superlative conference uniform.

Somebody shoot me!