tonight, i pretended to be a grown up. i wore a suit, took off the chrome nailpolish, removed all the earrings and bracelets, wiped off the thick black eyeliner and slightly sparkly lipgloss. i wore sensible heels and pinstripes. i carried a legal pad with my name on it. i pretended to interview a client who was pretending to have a serious legal issue. and i thought, fuck. this is what i am going to do with my life. it isn't the legal aspect that bothered me at all - that, indeed, i love. i think there is probably nothing better suited for my intellectual curiosities and societal conscience than to become a lawyer. i'm good at it, i have a genuine passion for it, and it just fuckin feels right. the part that got to me was that i felt like i wasn't being me. when i was on, being judged on my skills, i was on. and i did well. but otherwise, it felt like a really sucky costume party. i'm comfortable with my masses of fun jewelry and my creative makeup. but that doesn't fit, it won't fit with my corresponding profession. even though i plan to be a prosecutor and make shit money and represent only the proverbial "people," this culture of appearance feels so foreign to me. but i have to get used to it. perhaps no one would notice my blue glitter cuff...? oh, it's that obvious? damn. 
romeoreject:
Some boys(including myself) might like being ruffed up a little by a sultry little siren like yourself 
Anywho I can understand you feelings toward the dress code of an attorny. I personally like wearng my combat boots, a studded wrist bracelet, and my thrash pants. Life, unfortunatly, is about compromise. So I guess you'll have to compromise your style for the few hours you are at work.
Anywho I can understand you feelings toward the dress code of an attorny. I personally like wearng my combat boots, a studded wrist bracelet, and my thrash pants. Life, unfortunatly, is about compromise. So I guess you'll have to compromise your style for the few hours you are at work.
oddwobbler:
When I started my job in a warehouse the dress was casual, but as my duties moved into the really fucking uptight office attached to it, I still wore my big black boots and I just wore a dressier black shit over my Slayer concert tee, they were already used to seeing a longhaired freak amongst them but they'll never know I wear Scooby-Doo underoos under my black slacks, hell, I'll cut up a pair of long johns and wear them with a garter belt, even write "FUCK THIS JOB" on my chest with latex body paint, I really dosen't matter what you wear underneath, what can they do, ask you to strip?
