Pirate's Cove

No matter what is going on, there will always be hot takes. People being Offended. I suspect if we had an alien invasion, nuclear war, a supervolcano going off, a zombie apocalypse, you’d still have SJWs being SWJs and naggy nags being nags

Enough with the WFH sweatpants. Dress like the adult you're getting paid to be https://t.co/ulVcJBTeSf

— Los Angeles Times (@latimes) April 17, 2020

This is from deputy fashion editor Adam Tschorn (flip to Twitchy for his photo: no one should wear a hat like that and call themselves fashionable), who is worried about the Important Things. Here we go

I’ve waited, watched and bit my tongue during the last month of the pandemic-induced work-from-home era but I just can’t take it any more. Please, can we all put away those sweatpants, ratty, gray, decades-old collegiate sweatshirts and obscure minor league baseball caps and start our workdays looking like we deserve the paychecks we’re lucky enough to be earning while the world around us burns? Especially, for the love of all that’s holy, if there’s a group video conference involved?

How to dress for work when you’re working from home has been written about a lot over the last four weeks — including in the pages of The Times, where an early take on the topic suggested that you don’t really need to dress as if you’re going to the office. I couldn’t disagree more. For me, the WFH wardrobe is all about the three Rs: ritual, respect and reality. (Let me say at the outset that I don’t consider myself any kind of fashion plate. My personal sense of style falls somewhere between Vermont rural casual and West Coast preppy, but after 13 years of writing runway reviews for this paper, even I can tell when someone needs to switch up their style game.)

Sure, everyone is allowed their own sense of propriety, their own personal bitches and whines, some which have merit. Right off the top of my head, people pulling their shopping carts is annoying, but, then, when they do that they’re taking up more aisle space, it’s not just a random gripe. And I don’t usually waste space writing about it. Nor do I have a perch like the Los Angeles Times. I get the little amount of work I can do on my 7 days off (before 7 days on), just phone calls an some emails, takes about 30 minutes tops, done just fine in sweats or workout shorts and a hat (just happened to grab the one with USA on it today. Old and broken in and comfy). No one is seeing me.

Now, if you are going to be on a video call, yes, you should look professional. Shower, put on a decent shirt, and pants if the people will see them.

There’s something inherently grounding about the daily ritual. I won’t even consider punching the virtual time clock until I’m showered, shaved and fully dressed. This includes shoes — especially shoes — even if I don’t intend to leave the house. (If I do end up breaching the perimeter, there’s an elaborate protocol involving a second pair of shoes and a period of porch quarantine). Today, for example, I’m wearing a black-and-red check Brooks Brothers non-iron, button-down shirt, a pair of black Levi’s 559 five-pocket jeans, Stance socks and black Adidas Samba AV sneakers. I wore some version of this yesterday, the day before that and the day before that. I’ll be wearing some version of it tomorrow too and every work day until it’s time to return to the office, at which point I’ll probably kick it up a notch — by wearing a hat. (Everyone knows you shouldn’t wear a hat indoors.)

Well, good for you, you get an A for effort (that’s from some movie, can’t remember which). You know what’s great when you’re stuck at home? Being comfortable.

You’re more than likely laughing at me right now, sitting there in your yoga pants and your zip-front Patagonia faux fleece thrown over a circa-2000 Coldplay concert T-shirt sourced from the bottom of the hamper — your bare feet swinging wild and free under your Ikea Skarsta worktable. Your slouchy henleys, underwire bras, nice jeans and dry-clean-only designer tops are now shunted to the back of the closet like enriched polonium. If this sounds somewhat familiar, you probably don’t need the structure and reassurance of the daily armor donning to mark the start of your work day. Good on you for not being so rigidly ritual-bound.

Isn’t it rather sexist and patronizing to think that only women are reading his stuff? Wouldn’t this be the definition of “mansplaining”?

He seriously writes 8 more paragraphs on the subject. Good grief.