WSJ reported today that women wearing shorts to work is okay. That wearing shorts to work is chic, au courant, and indeed, posh. I just loved reading the word ‘posh’ in the Wall Street Journal.
They meant shorts suits, of course, and were quite serious about it. Not a smile crossed their faces as they reported that ‘as a member of the suit family–however rebellious–the ensemble had a serious side.”
The article was accompanied by photos of six foot tall, seventeen year old models striding purposely down the catwalk wearing what the real working woman, and I mean one outside the fashion world, is now supposed to think would be okay to wear to work.
Actually, rather than what her boss might say, or if she’s the boss, what her employees might say, I can only picture the scene at home at breakfast, before she leaves for work in her posh shorts, as she encounters her teenage daughter.
“Mom? Are you kidding? Is this a joke?”
Mom stops short at kitchen door. Frankly Mom was hoping just once her daughter had left for school. Because teenage daughter has a way of making her mother age twenty years, question her right to exist outside the kitchen, and above all shake every ounce of confidence in her fashion choices. And in particular this shorts suit WSJ has just assured her she can and should wear out of the house.
“It’s Jason Wu, for godsake,” she says, fighting back, stomach churning.
“I don’t care whose it is. You can’t go out like that. You gotta be kidding.”
“Shorts suits are in,” says Mom, remembering when she was four and Johnny Come Lately pulled her underpants down and she never wore skirts to school again. “Wall Street Journal says so.” Who does this teenage daughter think she is? Mom happens to be the boss of multitudes at work–
“God, Mom, do you believe everything you read? You look like an idiot in those shorts and that silly jacket, and don’t get me started on the blouse and that flower on your shoulder. Jeez, this is so embarrassing. Change before you go anywhere with me.”
“Hey, missy, it’s me driving you to school,” says Mom. Her voice comes out weak, though. Damn that teenager.
“Whatever. Go change out of that right now.” Then daughter’s voice softens. “I know, Mom. It happens. I make mistakes too. But you go change now, and I’ll wait for you right here.” Daughter smiles kindly at her mother. She nods her head. She flutters her hands in encouragement. In spite of herself, Mom backs out of the kitchen, and turns for the stairs. She knows the backs of her legs look fab anyway–
“And Mom, how about that cool maxi suit from Donna Karan. You know the one. The one that cost more than my high school education? You look gorgeous in it.”