Excavating Humanity.

Or the lack thereof.

It’s ironic how the perception you have of people can change in an instant. All it takes is one look, one misspoken phrase, one wayward email to turn that switch off and drop the perp into a vat of sweltering hate. It’s barely 9 am and I’m in the throes of banishing yet another colleague into that bottomless pit of scorn.

One of our business peeps decided that it was socially acceptable to send out an email berating the creative teams for their lack of professional attire at client meetings. Now this might seem kosher with those of you who exist in the world of suits, day timers and conferences – but, it’s different when you’re nothing but a lowly creative. You see, we work insane hours. Our meetings are usually held amongst ourselves and our CD. We dress comfortably because with comfort comes a certain sense of uninhibited thinking. We create ways to inspire ourselves be it childish games, ringing cat calls, loud tunes, whatever gets the juices flowing. So yea, we dress down. I don’t think I’ve worn a pair of black pants to work in months. And I like it that way. I like rocking flip flops and beat up tee’s – it’s the ad game folks – get with it or get out of it.

I suppose the more annoying reason regarding this email is the sheer fact that we don’t get told that we have a ‘client’ meeting until a few hours before its scheduled. So what? Are we supposed to walk with a suit in our bag? And is it really necessary for us to look spic and span when we’re just there to present our ideas? After all, that is what they pay us for. Ideas. Nothing more than idea makers – knowledge architects if you must. What we look like – shouldn’t matter so bloody much that you get your knickers in a knot! I mean yes – we have to look presentable – which we do – boho chic or not – but no jeans? No shorts? No tee’s? well then. I guess I’m gonna need an allowance to buy myself an alternative “stay at work” wardrobe chock full of monkey suits and bow ties.

Grrrr.

Sometimes the divide is ginormous (bigger than huge) and cavernous and no amount of niceness seems to fill it permanently.

I feel like a rat in a lab. Do this. Do that. Change this. Fix that. And voila – she’s nothing like she used to be.

Perfect.