At the time, my daughter Marissa was just beginning her long quest to become a fashionista and she convinced me to let her buy her a few tops that showed her midriff.
She was, like ten or eleven, and her body was still in that ambiguous stage with her chest still relatively flat and her hips not yet formed.
I didn’t think anything else about it until I received a telephone message from the school principal asking me to pick up my daughter, who was being sent home to change.
I couldn’t believe it. I was pissed that the school thought my daughter was a pre-pubescent tramp. After all, I was raised in the 70s when we all wore skimpy little halter tops. The only person sent home from my school — ever — was a girl who decided to make bubble wrap a fashion statement.
So I wrote about it and I caused a huge shitstorm.
You’d think I had shot the Pope or something. Suddenly there were stories in the paper, on the television news, all asking the burning question: should crop tops be allowed in schools?
I still maintain my daughter was singled out unfairly. And I remain a staunch opponent of dress codes today.
I was driving down Main Street the other day when I spotted a gaggle of teenagers walking home from the Catholic High School. They were all dressed in regulation uniforms, and every one of them wore her white shirt hanging out and her plaid skirt half way up her See You Next Tuesday.
I felt like I was witnessing a flash mob for Girls Gone Wild: Holy Mother of God Look What She’s Wearing! Edition.
I mention all of this because Scott and I were discussing the dress codes at my former place of employ. A few weeks after I arrived, the chief financial officer and certified busy body issued an edict saying that a strict dress code would be enforced. That meant no cleavage. see-through tops or skimpy short dresses. Anyone wearing such would be sent home and a letter would be put on their file.
This seemed ridiculous to me because the place was full of women. There were only two men, the CEO who dressed like a schlub and the web guy who wore tight Italian knits and chains, slicked his hair back and swanned through the office thinking he was Enrique Iglesias.
Who were the offenders going to offend?
The dress code caused hard feelings particularly among the cute young girls who liked to show off their God-given attributes.
They were incensed that they had to dress to please the short fat ones who insisted on wearing tight jeans on Friday to show off their ample asses.
There was no law against that, though there should have been.
It was a travesty.
Dress codes are only in force to please stupid, fat and ugly women who couldn’t get away with wearing the good stuff.
And who stands up for the rest of us, the people who have to look at fat asses wearing jeans that also give them camel toe?
I’m glad I work at home and don’t have to participate in these kinds of office wars any longer.
If I were Queen of the World, I would say this.
Sure, you can have a dress code.
As long as you also have a code guarding the rest of the population against ugly.