Fabulous Girl's Guide to Decorum

The Workplace "I was praying this morning that you wouldnt be wearing that skirt. And here you are," sputtered Claire, a woman with a shape that women's magazines refer to euphemistically as "pear," and my boss. Now, I hate Monday mornings in general, but on this particular Monday, I had entirely forgotten about my job review. I was a receptionist at Corp Train, a management training firm that was as lame as it sounded. I was silently horrified. Anyone can criticize my typing speed but never, never my style. Especially not Claire, who's idea of fashion was Annie Hall meets Laura Ingalls. And to add insult to fashion injury, I was being critiqued by a person whose teeth were loaded with poppy seeds. "We really believe in bringing people along here at Corp Train. We really do," she continued, taking my silence as acknowledgement of sexy-skirt-guilt. I had woken up feeling pretty good. Hair not too terrible. I wore my slightly see-through, long black skirt because it looked fabulous. As always, I wore it with completely opaque tights, so it was entirely respectable. Biking to work, I'd been thinking about how not so very bad my job was. Nobody expected me to care about the corporate training sessions the company ran. Being a receptionist did not exactly tax a girl. And as soon as I figured out what I wanted to do with my life, I'd be able to put all my energy and free time into that thing . . . whatever it would be. I mean, who cares about a job review for a job you don't care about? Now it was sure to be my last day. This is how it went: "It's just not appropriate for a corporate environment. At Corp Train we have to be seen as a team, and that team is professional and impeccably groomed." Was she also saying my hair was messy and I needed to use deodorant? "So Step One, buy some more modest clothes. I know that's a quick fix, especially for someone like you." Like me? She didn't know me. I've only worked here three months and she'd said little to me other than hello and good night. "There are two types of people in the world." "Really, only two types?" I asked and gripped the arms of my chair. Claire nodded emphatically and continued. "Type A and Type B. Type A's are stars. As soon as they walk into a room, you know it. Heads turn and they command an audience. Super-confident. Then there are Type-B personalities. These people are mild and shy and are often afraid to speak up and join in group dynamics. You are a Type B. Which is fine, but it means that you're not a natural leader. There is room for both types at Corp Train, so there is a place on the team for you too. It's just not a very mobile position, if you see what I mean." I don't know whether it was the B or the A in me that felt it was the right moment. For two things. "I think next Friday should be my last day. And, Claire, you've got all sorts of poppy seeds in your teeth." Even though it hadn't been what I'd expected that sunny Monday and my bank balance meant that my actions should have sent me into terrible anxiety, all I really felt was relief and a perverse sense of power. And as I've learned over and over, nothing takes the edge off like a new pair of shoes and a bottle of Chianti with my two best friends, Elenor and Missy. In those days, Elenor, Missy and I all despised Mondays, the launch pads of five days of Jill Jobs. Over the weekend it was possible to start feeling a bit fab and self-determined. But back at a job you hate, the sheen of your weekend self-image quickly tarnishes. We'd been best friends since university, where we met in Intro. to Twentieth-Century Art. We bonded over the fact that we'd all come from small towns. Missy and El knew exactly how I'd felt growing up, dying to bust out of rural boredom. Although we were ambitious, stylish, smart girIzzo, Kim is the author of 'Fabulous Girl's Guide to Decorum', published 2001 under ISBN 9780767910101 and ISBN 0767910109.