Friday, March 6, 2009

Layoff Chic

I'm losing my job in 116 days.

It is fabulous to finally be with the "in" crowd, you know?

Today when I rolled out of bed I had a tough time choosing what to wear. It has been a hell of a week and I'm not ashamed to tell you that I haven't handled it well at all. Whereas I probably haven't gained any weight I haven't managed to drag myself out of bed for any workouts, instead using the extra morning hour to lay awake contemplating misery, so I certainly haven't lost any weight. Which means I'm still limited to two pairs of pants. Both of which accumulated stains of some kind this week and hadn't yet been washed (I've been spending my evenings a bit distraught too, if you must know, and have let the laundry slide.). I picked the lesser of two evils, pulled an undershirt out of the laundry pile as well and went with a big, bulky, navy blue cable knit deal I've had for years to complete the ensemble.

The cable knit was left over from a house party in which I lost my favorite grey fleece, as though the universe had taken my wonderful zip up and as a consolation gave me a heap of yarn that was even then, 8 years ago, beyond it's appropriate wearing years. The thing keeps unravelling on me and I just keep stitching the sleeves and hems up with navy blue thread. The yarn itself is disintegrating and bits are sticking out everywhere, which I just trim with scissors when I have time, like today while I listened to the woe and misery of my co-workers I sat and trimmed the sleeves while the item was still on me.

The heavier bits of the cable knit are pulling from the regular knit creating uneven wear and if, like today's omission, I don't put a long sleeve shirt underneath, bits of my shoulder and arm flesh are exposed. I have thought, on more than one occasion over the years, "oh dear, this thing is beyond wearing to work anymore", a thought I've had right before shrugging and throwing it on. I'd sometimes regret the choice at work when I'd notice that the thing was dying on me in a most unflattering way but promptly forget such troubles when I got home. Plus I've been working on a limited wardrobe my entire adult life (we won't even get into the hand me downs and follies of youth) so the thing had to, by necessity, always make its way into the winter rotation.

Today I complimented the beauty with my ugliest scarf, doubled socks with holes in them over to protect my heels, threw my dirty hair up in a bun and was off. I may not be the shining beacon of fashion, never up on the current trends and lacking in any designer pieces what so ever but I do believe I have a flair for accessorizing important life events. Depression coupled with being overweight and losing my job in just over three months? Oh I worked it. I worked it good. I was the queen of the ball. These other bitches don't even know what competition they are entering, they may try to throw a cardigan on or scuff their shoes up a bit but I KNOW this baby, I work it. It is mine. They just can't compete with my layoff chic. They don't have years of wherewithal coupled with decades of poverty experience.

They may whimper about losing their house or going on food stamps but I ask you, how will they look doing it? They won't have the haute couture air of having been beat down by every circumstance in every conceivable way for years, they won't be able to pull off ratty sweaters and two dollar button downs from an estate sale like I will, and I know the jealously will kill them. In the new era of frugal being in, designer being out, reuse being in, new being out, I will reign queen. The holes in my faux leather, eleven year old shoes that I keep alive with brown sharpie and hope will lead the way.

And finally, my time has come. I'll try not to be too distant and aloof and forget about all of you but let's face it; I'm of the elite now. I get what made the rich so special, they didn't just think they were better than us, clearly they were better than us. And now they're just fashion road kill, their relevancy lost in the tidle wave of what is hip and new, life's wonderful irony making that which made them special now make them total outcasts, unable to gain any of their footing back.

I have arrived mah peeps, this is my game now.

3 comments:

The CEO said...

Go get 'em, and use all your energy to do it. You have to make it happen.

sallyacious said...

Oh, honey. I'm so sorry. But you do have what it takes to survive this. You've developed the guts and the stamina over the long haul of your twenties.

And maybe this is a sign, eh? Maybe that little city has given you everything it can and it's time for you to strike out for someplace better?

HollowSquirrel said...

Ditto and ditto and Fuck! Are you ok? I mean, you LOOK fantastic, but are you ok? :)