Dressed Up

October 28th, 2009

I’ve worn a suit, as far as I can recall, 4 times in the last decade: once at a job interview, and three times at weddings.  Of those, my eldest son has only been privy to 2, and neither one since he’s old enough to remember.  In high school, one of my life goals was to “not have a job where I have to wear a suit”, and I’ve been remarkably successful in that endeavor.

Still, even if one doesn’t always wear a suit, there are some occasions where a suit is the right thing to wear, and such was the case last Wednesday, when I went in for another job interview (although I’m on my way to being a full-time work-at-home translator, some translation agencies require interviews, and you can’t exactly dress like a work-at-home translator when you go in for your interview).

I dislike suits for a host of reasons, but when you wear a suit on average once per 2.5 years, there is a certain feeling of sharpness that comes from wearing one.  So that’s how I felt on Wednesday, crisp white shirt, silk tie, nice black suit.  My son, though, looked at me.  Then he looked at the suit.  His face grew somber. Then he started, slowly, to shake his head side to side.

I don’t think he likes suits either.

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