I Dream of Door

I am going to ignore the fact that is has been 5 months since my last post. I will remedy this.

There are a few things that I figured I would be guaranteed after finishing law school and passing the bar: First, a decent salary, and second, a door. I shall explain.

“A decent salary” needs no explanation. The number I initially had in my head will remain in my head now that I realize, given the state of the economy, how ridiculous it is. Every day, post bar passage, this number has gotten lower…and lower…and lower. I’ve now resigned myself to the “as long as I can pay my bills and fill myself with cocktails on occasion” standard. Things are working out nicely in that department. What about my second, arguably more important guarantee? Not so much.

I want a door. Yes, a lovely wooden (at this point ill settle for any material sturdier than cardboard), four sided, handle bearing door. Why? Because a door = an office. To be fair, I currently work in an office. However, my work space hardly qualifies as such. Let me give you a mental picture:

Think laaaaarge open space with three, yes three, desks that are occupied by no less than two but up to four individuals….in one. big. space. Sounds like a cubicle? Um, no. A cubicle has WALLS. Our office manager and I are settled in the wide open spaces  of a “you can’t do anything because everyone, including clients, can hear everything” non-office.

It’s like when you got your first “non service industry job” in high school, or even college, and your boss didn’t have room for you so he stuck a small desk in some obscure location of the office for you….yeah. It’s like that…only with an honors undergraduate degree, a $200,000 legal education and a license from the State Bar of California. Bitter much?

What makes things better is the lobby of said “office.” Recently remodeled by gangster inspired entertainment agent/owner of our floor, the lobby boasts porn-like white leather couches, green walls and carpet and a ghastly large faux orchid focal point. It’s like the Standard Hotel, circa 1968, meshed with an Asian massage parlor and together they brought Tupac and Diddy posters along for the ride. Good lord ‘yo.

To be fair, working on my floor is great. The people are wonderful, including my boss, and I do find my work interesting. However, I do dream of working in a sans Asian/gangster porn den lobby, random desk placement in an undefined space office. I figured going to law school and becoming all professional and ‘stuff would lend itself to a professional work space. At least court appearances provide a reprieve…

Perhaps by the time I can afford more than top ramen and two buck chuck, I’ll get my door. Here’s to hoping.

SHAME!

Duuuuuuuude. I can’t believe I haven’t blogged since OC-TOOOOOO-BER! All I can say: shiz has been busy around these parts. Quick recap: 

I got a new job, you know, as an actual attorney. So far I am loving it!

I’m still living with the boyfriend. Per his gentle request (constant whining) I’ve learned to put my shoes away, use socks rather than Andrew as a foot warmer and to rinse out the sink after I brush my teeth. Men, ugh.

I’m still working out 6 days a week and waking up at freakishly early hours. Not sure why that's important...

Dot is still alive and kicking…my ass that is. I’ve realized my life is essentially run by a fifteen year old, fifteen pound (ish) one-eyed, missing teeth dog. Named Dot. So there’s that.

Moving on. Today my friends let us focus our attention on the most interesting of venues, the court room. Today we will not be focusing on the unfortunate souls who find themselves there as a result of a lawsuit. Instead, we will be turning our attention toward those who choose to go to court for a living. The attorneys.

Yes, I am an attorney. However there is one detail that distinguishes a small handful of attorneys, myself included, from the rest of our counter parts. Our knowledge of suiting. Suiting you ask? Suiting, aka, what you wear to court. I don’t proclaim to be a master of knowledge regarding suits, however I do know what is appropriate and what is not appropriate to wear in court. (Really what is appropriate to wear in any professional setting...) During my daily travels to court I have witnessed some of the most egregious crimes against fashion. I’m not saying we all need to throw down wads of cash and focus solely on our appearance. However, a closer look at what we wear in court might not be a bad idea. My thoughts:

FIT

Take yourself back to yesteryear when you were learning how to dress. Remember the old saying, if you have to ask if you should wear it the answer is no? Newsflash! That rule still applies today! Ladies, if your midsection resembles anything similar to a heaping pastry, your pants are too tight. Gentleman, if you can see your ankles, your pants are too short. There should be no tucking, puckering or stretching on your person. You should be able to move around…comfortably, during the day. Also, that button on the front of your blazer? Sure it looks nice, but it also serves a purpose. Make sure your jacket fits. You’ve seen that Subway commercial with all of the people eating fast food whose buttons suddenly POP off flying in all directions? Don’t be that guy. Should this happen in the court room, your button flying off and hitting a poor soul in the eye, I can assure you there are plenty of attorneys willing to take that poor soul’s case…

FABRIC

Lord where do I begin. The obvious: If you can see through it- not proper suiting material. If you can get pit stains- not proper suiting material (get a lined jacket ‘yo). If you see moth-balls or holes- not proper suiting material. I know, good suits are expensive. However they also last FOR-EV-ER. (Not forever, but at least long enough to constitute a necessary investment). I know you think your 1970s green polyester suit is sexAy. It’s not. It’s scary and also it probably smells. Please act (throw away) accordingly.

FORM

Sure suits come in a “set” if you will. However, being the fashion forward profession that we are (psht), you may feel the need to mix and match your suit. Sure, a suit dress with a different color blazer is A-ok. You can even match different jacket and pant fabrics (GASP). Should you choose to spice up the lectern, please remember a few things. First, if you think something doesn’t match you are correct. Take it off. Second, take into account your shirt, blouse or tie. Thou shall never step into court wearing black pants, a brown blazer, a blue pin-stripe shirt and a red tie. Get my drift? Color blind is not a recognized defense in any court of law.

FOR REAL?!

I will not recount the horrors I have witness the past few weeks in court. Rather, I am going to take proactive steps to ensure that our profession doesn’t get an even worse reputation… (cheating bastards who can’t dress well?!?!?!) Please raise your right hand a repeat after me: “I will never channel Lady GaGa. I will not layer shiny jewelry or accessories for fear that I may blind the judge and/or the jury. I will, under no circumstances, wear anything that was popular in 1982. I will throw out my pair of suit pants that button in the middle of my rib cage, all of my jackets that have sleeves longer than my hands, and any piece of clothing that strains, pulls or tugs on my person any fashion. I will pay attention to the length of my hem and plan my shoe choice accordingly. Finally, under no circumstances will I walk into court barefoot.”

Ok, I think that about covers it. I am clearly not made of money, but through careful planning, saving and major blow out sales at Banana Republic I’ve managed to create a professional work wardrobe. If I can do it on my budget (which is now seriously depleted as my debit card was recently stolen) then you can to! Go forth, and suit well. Also, when in doubt, channel Scott Disick. Sure the guy may be a tool but he for damn sure can rock a suit. 

 Sidenote: Outside of court, polyester, muffin top and blinding jewelry all you want. Hell, parade around your neighborhood dressed as a banana. Just bring a change of clothes to court.