It wasn’t easy going to work last Tuesday wearing more than one retro-looking piece.
I mean, I had just bought this really soft pair of leather brogues at the thrift store that I had to wear that day. What I liked about it is that it both has a modern and dated appeal.
Didn’t wait to have them cropped. Just folded them, and voila!
Problem was, I also wear both pairs (jeans and brogues) with a sheer shirt that also looked a bit retro. Didn’t know there was a town hall meeting in the morning, and I wasn’t prepared to appear thus in front of so many people. Hence the large-buttoned navy blue jacket.
Normally, what I would consider what I wore above quite, well, normal. But it really wasn’t relative to the rest of my co-workers. So I was kinda squirmish.
Deep inside, I’m really the shy type.
Even if my personality may slice through conversations like a sail or a fin.
After the town hall gathering, I almost ran back to my desk. (Yes, Ate Lalin likes to take pictures of me looking awkward. She even laughs by herself right after clicking.)
Sheer shirt, thrifted
Brogues, no brand indicated, thrifted
Skinny belt, A.P.C.
Steel watch, Tissot
Of course, I was in the workplace, and I was expected to concentrate on my work. Not on what I was wearing.
I don’t exactly work in the creative or entertainment industry. The paper where I sub-edit is quite sober. (Mostly conservative, though sometimes called “leftwing” and “socialist”. By European standards, anyway.)
On top of all that, the sheer shirt I was wearing came in a retro print as well - something paisley-ish.
If I were at an outside event, I wouldn’t mind. But at the office, I had to cross my arms, or button my jacket. I couldn’t tie it around my waist (I still live in the tropics, after all) as I usually do.
Thus, I looked the height of discretion.
Came from the disco?
Anyway, I still love what I wore. Just have to remember to temper it more next time.
Not that I am insecure about anything.
(Well, yes: I should be about my height and my bad skin and my old clothes … but I’m not complaining.)
I’m happy as I could be (nope, no pun is coming). Though the original title of this post was “Awkward as I come”: that would have been way too punny. Yet not funny.