Have You Ever Worn Panty Hose In Florida?

Have you ever worn panty hose in Florida? In the summer? While standing all day behind a teller line where nobody could see them anyway? And there is SO not a gap between your thighs where just a teensy bit of A.C. might happen to waft up your skirt that is supposed to NOT be more than an inch above your knee; no? Then you can’t possibly understand my distain for all things nylon (and spandex too) or why I am sooooo happy with my new job’s dress code.

We can dress casual, not even business casual, but everyday casual, as in shorts, tee shirts, jeans, open toed shoes, and yes we are even allowed to wear hats. I’m not a girl who wears a lot of shorts in public, and my jeans are more of a dress pant made out of denim than the currently popular jeggins, but I do enjoy the freedom to wear whatever I want as long as I am not offensive. Besides, it’s so very convenient to wear my capris, sneakers, oversized T and go straight to the Y after work.

So you would think with all this freedom people would be wearing some pretty over the top, or under the butt crack clothing, but no, not compared to what I’ve seen at past jobs. At all the banks I’ve worked for with business or business casual dress codes, I saw more T&A in a day than my brother saw all through high school. (It’s been a really, really, long time since he went to high school.)

A typical day might yield unwanted glimpses of boobs over a coin drawer desperately searching for the twelve cents needed to make them balance for the day. (Check your cleavage you might even find the rest of your lunch.), or ass crack, (sometimes with lint) emerging out of the top of a pair of “dress” pants whose owner was crouched in front of their floor vault putting away their Ben Franklins. There was the occasional thigh high peeking out from under a pinstriped skirt suit, (PS, if you muffin top your thigh highs, wear a longer skirt) and the ever present CFM shoes, again behind the counter where no one could see them, so why bother.

One time at a job interview I had to double check the address in the day planner I keep in my pleather brief case, because I thought I had accidently shown up to an open call for pole dancers instead of the personal banker interview. I guess they were looking for someone with a lot of experience helping men with their money, because they hired the chick with the pinstriped tassels leaving me to pound the pavement in my sensible shoes.

But I digress.

I am new at this company, so I don’t know how long the lenient dress policy has been in effect, but I hope my co-workers don’t ruin a good thing. Sometimes some people (and by some people I mean those of you under twenty five who think you’re inventing the wheel every time you push what you think is the envelope but really it’s just a piece of returned mail) when given an inch will take it and completely jack it up for the rest of us. If have learned anything in the gazillion day jobs I have had over the years, it’s that if you take a mile then the inch giver is eventually going to get most irked and want it back and then some.

So when at work my friends, remember that modest is the hottest and maybe, just maybe none of us will ever have to wear panty hose again.