Today at work, some professional photographers and filmmakers came to my work place to take a few pictures of us and film us for some PR/exposure purpose. Which means that we were asked to look our best: no five o'clock shadows, no jeans, no casual clothes. Which is borderline tragic for me: I prefer to wear casual clothes, especially on Friday. It is one aspect of my working place I love: even though it is a very serious corporate environment, the dress code is minimal. But not today. So I had to wear my one pair of trousers meant for meeting clients at conferences and my grey shirt that goes with my grey temples. And I had to shave. I hate to shave for Friday, I prefer having a bit of a stubble.
For the beard, it was of little use: mine grows like weed, so I had a five o'clock shadow when they started shooting anyway. All the same, I had nice trousers instead of jeans and an elegant shirt that made me look smart if not a bit old. And everything was properly ironed too. But it still felt like torture. Smart Fridays are not for me. Bring on the casual ones.
Empathie féminine VI: Suicide
1 hour ago