chic to freak

So I was riding high after yesterday's sartorial triumph but shortly after arriving to work this morning I was brought down to Earth with a resounding THUMMMP! My boss called me into her office and told me that I was not compliant with the company's dress code policy but she would give me time to go home and change or iron my pants. Yes, not only was my jacket (a denim jacket...but it wasn't some kind of torn & acid-washed monstrosity. It was a cute li'l jacket from Target and it pulled the outfit together nicely) a no-no, my pants were too wrinkly. They were a bit rumply toward the bottom, but nothing drastic, I swear!
So yeah, I was miffed. Not at my boss, because I have worn that same outfit (to be specific: mauve long sleeve tee, tan & mauve houndstooth check scarf, denim jacket, brown pants that were like cargo pants w/o the cargo pockets & brown boots) a dozen times and it's been totally fine. She seemed like she really didn't want to be saying it. It's no coincidence methinks, that the agency CEO had walked through our part of the office about 5 minutes prior to this chat. This same CEO is very preoccupied with all these cosmetic changes to the agency that she's instituted, but I think it would behoove her to worry about the agency's myriad inefficiencies and insane turn over rate. I won't even be petty and say that she should worry about how nobody likes her. Ooops, guess I just did. But really, this dame is like your quintessential dragon lady and I am not exaggerating when I say she is universally loathed. Well, probably her family likes her. But she doesn't have many fans at work.

OK, I am getting a little overly irate perhaps. Thing is, I see the point of a dress code. I am not a total lawless, free-to-be-you-and-me hippy. In this biz, I can see how dress code can be a necessary thing. We can't send out LNAs with multiple facial piercings and monster tatts because that freaks out our old people patients. Our office dress code says: no jeans, no sweats, no flip flops. Sooo fine. There's no real practical reason that you should be able to mandate that, but fine, I'll deal. I don't wear jeans or sweats or flip flops. Today, I had found a grey area-- I was more casual than the honchos wanted me to be, (no doubt they'd like me to be suited up in some fucking Talbot's issued business lady costume--blarrgh) but technically I was compliant. And it's not like it was some wacky & inappropriate grey area--leotard & moonboots or something like that. Oh, as it happens, there's a lady in finance who will, every now & then, wear pajama pants to work. She thinks, because they're plaid (as opposed to having cartoon sheeps on 'em) nobody knows they're pajama pants. Man, if she continues to do that and doesn't catch hell for it...
Anyways, they should have just let me be. It was nitpicky. When management puts soo much energy into punishing such *minor* infractions of the dress code...well,it shows them to be foolishly hung up on superficialities. The worst part about it was that news of it spread like wildfire around the office. I didn't mind people coming up to me and joking about it. I mean, 'cuz that's my view of the whole episode--'tis pretty effing ridiculous. But I really coulda done without the coworkers that put a consoling hand on my shoulder and asked--in their most concerned and discreet tones: "Are you okay??" I wonder if they heard that I was caned for dress code violation or somethin'.