Stuff, with a bias towards clothing
So, the weekend was nice. No need to work, which is always a bonus. Instead the wife and I shopped, watched films and football, chilled, and did a little bit of house-cleaning type of stuff.
I'd been to a work meeting in London on Friday, and whenever I get ready to leave for one of those I tend to lose my mind, realizing I have no clothes to wear. There are very few downsides to working from home 99 per cent of the time; the downsides come, though, when you remember that you don't know what real people look like in a business environment.
Fortunately, being in a "creative" industry means that most people (except managing directors and the like) tend to dress down. Smart casual, y'know. What a great catch-all, almost offensive term that is, right? Jeans are fine, a pair of Converse no problem. T-shirts even.
Except... because I've made the decision to tattoo my forearms, I tend to cover them for meetings at which I'm looking for work. This, in turn, means that, come the hot months, I have to choose lightweight long-sleeved attire. And that's usually my first hurdle when it comes to choosing my "meeting clothes". But like they say in Italy, "Volevi una bicicletta... Pedala." ["You wanted a bike... Pedal." Akin to our "You made your bed, you better lie in it."]
That problem tends to be overcome quickly (if not necessarily always comfortably). The great British summer poses the next hurdle. You never know if what you see through the window at 9:30am is anything like in the same ballpark of what might be happening 50 miles away and one hour later. It's likely, at this time of year, that it will stay warm (if it's already warm), but that doesn't mean you won't get rain, sleet, snow, or who-knows-what else.
So it came to pass that I went looking for a lightweight, mid-season jacket. And I got one, too. Which is a miracle, since when I shop with intent for clothing I'm usually left empty-handed. The best jacket I tried on was a Hugo Boss blazer. Very nice and an absolutely beautiful fit. You can't go wrong with a man who clothed the Nazis, but I wasn't thinking of spending £300 (US$600), so back it went on the hanger. Afterwards I wished I'd haggled. "I'll give you 200," I should have said. What's the worst that could happen?, as Dr Pepper might ask. I'll wait for the sales, perhaps.
In the end I bought something far less dashing but arguably more multipurpose for a third of the price. It'll do the job.
Anyway, I've gone on long enough about my sartorial woes. I'm gonna go have some breakfast and head off into London again. Today, though, it's pleasure not business, for it's time for my next tattooing session on my backpiece. Another three hours of fun.
Have a good week, amigos.
I'd been to a work meeting in London on Friday, and whenever I get ready to leave for one of those I tend to lose my mind, realizing I have no clothes to wear. There are very few downsides to working from home 99 per cent of the time; the downsides come, though, when you remember that you don't know what real people look like in a business environment.
Fortunately, being in a "creative" industry means that most people (except managing directors and the like) tend to dress down. Smart casual, y'know. What a great catch-all, almost offensive term that is, right? Jeans are fine, a pair of Converse no problem. T-shirts even.
Except... because I've made the decision to tattoo my forearms, I tend to cover them for meetings at which I'm looking for work. This, in turn, means that, come the hot months, I have to choose lightweight long-sleeved attire. And that's usually my first hurdle when it comes to choosing my "meeting clothes". But like they say in Italy, "Volevi una bicicletta... Pedala." ["You wanted a bike... Pedal." Akin to our "You made your bed, you better lie in it."]
That problem tends to be overcome quickly (if not necessarily always comfortably). The great British summer poses the next hurdle. You never know if what you see through the window at 9:30am is anything like in the same ballpark of what might be happening 50 miles away and one hour later. It's likely, at this time of year, that it will stay warm (if it's already warm), but that doesn't mean you won't get rain, sleet, snow, or who-knows-what else.
So it came to pass that I went looking for a lightweight, mid-season jacket. And I got one, too. Which is a miracle, since when I shop with intent for clothing I'm usually left empty-handed. The best jacket I tried on was a Hugo Boss blazer. Very nice and an absolutely beautiful fit. You can't go wrong with a man who clothed the Nazis, but I wasn't thinking of spending £300 (US$600), so back it went on the hanger. Afterwards I wished I'd haggled. "I'll give you 200," I should have said. What's the worst that could happen?, as Dr Pepper might ask. I'll wait for the sales, perhaps.
In the end I bought something far less dashing but arguably more multipurpose for a third of the price. It'll do the job.
Anyway, I've gone on long enough about my sartorial woes. I'm gonna go have some breakfast and head off into London again. Today, though, it's pleasure not business, for it's time for my next tattooing session on my backpiece. Another three hours of fun.
Have a good week, amigos.
Labels: clothes, films, football, hugo boss, italian, nazis, shopping, tattoos, work
permalink posted by * (asterisk) at 6:57 AM
9 comments
