The funny thing about beginning this blog is that many of the embarrassing situations I have found myself in over recent years have come crashing back into my consciousness. I’ve just received an email from a friend which has reminded me of another cringe episode. She’s been asked to “have a word” with a colleague about their less-than-satisfactory dress code. I HAVE BEEN AT THE BUSINESS END OF THAT CONVERSATION.
I work at a radio station and we had – unbeknownst to me – a class of school children looking round the studios one day and I was asked to step in as tour guide. Unfortunately – knowing NOT that I was to play a prim Miss Honey that day – I was wearing cut-off shorts (hot pants if you’re so inclined) and high HIGH heels. In my defence it was summer (granted, it’s not a strong defence).
The children weren’t quite as tall as the bottom of my shorts. Suffice to say I didn’t walk tall and proud on that tour.
Anyway, it was only a matter of time before I was called aside by a member of our work’s executive board and told – albeit politely – that my outfit was not work appropriate. THE ONLY PROBLEM BEING THAT IT WAS LIKE 10AM.
I had to spend the next seven hours or so in a mortifying hot pants purgatory of my own making.