Carriage

I did my walkie again this evening.
Walked into work this afternoon in my t-shirt, pseudo tennis skirt and my walkie shoes and everyone turned around.

Partly it's because the thud of my soles is loud - these babies have good soles - and partly it's because.... well.... Monday through Friday I look like an executive. When I turn up in stuff like to-day, it's rather unexpected. Wah, Fiona, why so sporty to-day? one girl said slowly, as she eyed me up and down. I'm walking home tonight garnered a loud gasp and a roll of her eyes. That roll said clearly she thought I was out of my mind. I really don't give a shit, but that's another story.

I should probably explain, though.
Call centres don't exactly require people to dress up. A simple shirt, a skirt, sandals. That's more than sufficient. And that's great. Problem is, in my last job, I was a suit. And a tailored skirt looks distinctly different from some frou-frou thingie bought at a mass market clothing stall. You know what I mean when I say cut, colour and fabric are more important than just a jacket.

I've learnt not to judge a person by the clothes they wear but..... sad to say, the masses don't realise that. What I have learnt, however, is you can tell what kind of person one is, by attitude and bearing. How one carries oneself. Self assurance. Confidence. All very telling signs. People who know will read the minutae.


How do *you* carry yourself?