Hey Be Careful, There's Skittles In There

I gotta say, it's a good thing I work from home, because I feel like an utter fraud whenever I have to wear business attire, regardless if it's formal or casual.

I had to go to two events this week. Now, whenever I go to events for work, it's usually either to videotape them (which I'm adequate at, I guess) or photograph them (which I excel at). The one thing I've discovered is that people generally balk at being caught on tape or on film, and often wonder why you're there. Usually my explanations are enough, but then I sometimes get asked if I'm an intern. Yes. At 25, I get asked if I'm an intern. Or, if I'm not called out as an intern, I get told I look "so young!" One lady told me I looked 15. (Not this week. Another time. But it happens a lot.)

Sure, okay, that's fine. If I look 30 when I'm 50, then I win the Aging Race. What doesn't help is me though is that, at age 25, I have not yet mastered the Art of Business Dressing. I went to an Anne Kline outlet and got my prerequisite post-college navy business suit (with a skirt ... not pants) but I haven't found navy blue heels to wear with it, so I'm just shit out of luck there. So often times my business formal look consists of a spandex black pencil skirt with straps from Forever XXI, a blue button shirt with huge ruffles from Fossil, and a one button black blazer with non-functioning pockets from Express. And to make the hodgepodge complete, I often wear black flats from Mandees, which are dull and a little too big for me and make my 5'2" frame look stumpy. I wear these instead of even small heels because I'm often on my feet all the time at events, taking photos. It generally requires kneeling down, standing on my tip toes, sometimes running around, and just a lot of standing around. Heels will not do.

But, despite my mosaic business attire, I look ok. One time I was walking in front of the Statehouse visitors' entrance and some guy looked me up and down (ughhhh) and said, "You must work out!" In situations like these, I wish I was quick enough and bold enough to reply, "Yeah, if by 'work out' you mean 'heavy lifting' and if by 'heavy lifting' you mean 'raising tons of delicious beverages and candies to my mouth and chewing' then yes, I work out A LOT," but I just looked at my feet and went, "no." I am a pussy.

So yes, despite looking like a giant walking fetus, and despite wearing a less than inspiring outfit, I've learned to own my business wardrobe. Often times, especially in certain places, I found that if you just act like you belong there, people will leave you alone. However, there's one thing I carry that makes me stand out in a crowd like a giant bullseye on my back: my purse I carry. Or rather, my tote bag. Which has Stephen Colbert's face on both sides, in a woodcut style.

I got this tote bag back in 2008, and back then, holy shit did it give me cred. It was big enough to carry all my shit, was great for when I went shopping (GO GREEN), it got me compliments from everyone (including Newark Mayor Cory Booker!) and it fit perfectly. The straps weren't too short or too long, and even when it was full, it wasn't too heavy. For my part-time job on a college campus way of life, it was the best. But now, it just makes me stick out like a sore thumb in an "o ... rly?" type way.

Today a sisterly S.O.S. got me into actual pants (at 5:30 pm) which was probably a good thing, since I was about one hour away from crawling back into bed wearing the PJs which I had been wearing all day (... I should just invest in some damn pajama jeans and give up any sense of self-respect ... NO ONE CAN SEE ME ANYWAY). After I dropped off the precious cargo, I ventured off in search of a purse that could double as a professional bag that holds all my crap, including all the technological accessories I sometimes must carry. I wanted it to be white, without any designer logos or heart shaped keychain charm thingies hanging off of it, no leather studs ... and just minimal tackiness.

WELL LET ME JUST SAY TJ Maxx and Marshalls have lots of white purses, but none met my very specific criteria. And thus, I feel, I am doomed to carry Stephen Colbert's floating head with me everywhere. But with his smile and constant upbeat attitude radiating from underneath my left arm, I suppose I should just be like, "YES. This is a Stephen Colbert tote bag I'm carrying. And yes. It is awesome and indicates I am politically aware and ironic and even environmentally friendly! HAH HAH!"

Or I should just acknowledge I really need a new bag.