Workplace Fashion is Here to Stay

Last I checked, we’re still wearing clothes to work

Post-pandemic, it seems like some people have embraced the idea of perpetual pajama days. I am not one of them.

I am far more productive when I’m dressed for the day in clothes that make me feel stylish and confident.

For example, I’ll never forget the day I showed up to work dressed like Barney. You know, the purple anthropomorphic Tyrannosaurus rex who dances around while conveying educational messages? Don’t remember him? Never mind then. All you need to know is that he was purple.

What I thought was an elegant, monochromatic outfit in soft grey tones at home somehow transformed under the office’s fluorescent lighting into full-on purple.

Have you ever accidentally masqueraded as Barney’s over-enthusiastic cousin while presenting a proposal to sell the company’s private jet to a board made up entirely of people who routinely fly on said jet? I have. It didn’t go well.

It was not my most productive day.

I am convinced my pitch would have been better received if I hadn’t looked like an eggplant.

In all of my days since, avoiding my disastrous Barney fashion faux pas is always at the back of my mind.

In a world full of other things to worry about, focusing on something I can control, like my work attire, keeps me on the saner side of things. Most of the time anyway.

Getting Dressed Is a Risk I Take Personally

So, when a corporate RTO mandate came into play for leaders, this Corporate Moron© busted out a pencil skirt and a pair of four-inch heels for a whirl around the office.

Despite there being several years between me and the last time I wore heels, I decided it would be a good idea to not just wear them while sitting behind my desk in my office, but walk in them.

I headed over to the nearby food court for lunch. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the fucking wherewithal to instantly regret my decision and return to my desk.

I made it all the way to the food court before my discomfort left me no choice but to stand still and contemplate alternative methods of travel back to my office. My dilemma was quickly resolved as my left ankle decided to take matters into its own hands.

Exasperated by my indecision, it folded in on itself, snapping the heel as it went for good measure.

I swore I heard it say, “Stay down, you imbecile, before you get us all killed…”

Now with a reasonable excuse to remove my footwear, I returned to my office barefoot, vowing to make smarter wardrobe choices the next day.

Business casual just means you can wear jeans every day now

To entice employees back into the office and stem the flow of pyjamas and workout gear that came with them, corporate decision-makers compromised and updated the dress code policies to be permanent Friday business casual.

So I decided to go with that.

I shelved the problem of what to do with the bottom half of my professional attire and high heels for another day and embraced jeans… and my seemingly unlimited collection of leopard print footwear.

What do animals think about when they see us wearing faux prints of their hide on our feet?

The next day, I switched out my 4-inch heels for leopard print boots. And I couldn’t help but wonder, do animals take it as a compliment when humans wear faux prints of their hide? Or are they insulted?

Is the leopard thinking, “Hey, lady, I use my spots for camouflage so I can stalk and ambush my prey. Everyone can see those boots coming from a mile away. You look like an idiot.”

Despite my mocking leopard, I tromped on into the office. Hey Leopard, I mocked back, I’m in the office before the corporate-wide return-to-office (RTO) mandate has been officially announced, and under these circumstances, every Corporate Moron© knows it’s imperative to stand out and be remembered!

Not one to sit around and wait until corporate bed-checks for someone to notice me (aka, senior leaders going floor to floor checking to see who was physically in their office), my distinctive rosettes and I, which are providing the anti-camouflage effect I’m going for, burn laps around the executive floor on a fake assignment to deliver a TPS Report.

Unfortunately, the higher-ups were at a retreat, and no one was around to notice my flashy footwear.

I would have to try again the next day.

I switched to leopard print kitten heels…

After a successful trial with my boots, I take my leopard print kitten heels for a stroll.

Unlike my leopard alter ego, who uses her spots to stalk silently through tall grass, pounce on unsuspecting prey, and remain unseen as she drags her dinner up a tree, I’m slightly less stealthy. I’m more likely to trip over a printer cord, scare the bejesus out of Gloria from accounting as she rounds the corner in a blind hallway, and choke on a day-old donut from the break room.

All the while, my imagined leopard friend is still mocking me. “You idiot, you need to drag your prey up a tree. How’re you going to do that in heels and a bum ankle?”

‘You’re so right,” I said back to my made-up leopard alter-ego friend, and I switched to flats and headed out to the bush.

I’m fucking fast as hell in these leopard print flats…

So I ventured out into a more natural habitat (aka the park behind my daughter’s school) to see if the leopard print shoes blended in better.

But the leopard from my imagined conversation was still mocking me. “Do you think you can blend into your environment and run faster with those leopard print shoes on?”

The taunts continued, “You can’t, and your blue hair isn’t helping; you’re still an idiot.”

I ignore the taunts and head back into the office.

With my leopard print flats, I’m speedy and efficient as hell.

And just like the leopard who has 20 minutes to hunt, eat, and effortlessly drag that wildebeest up a tree before the hyenas show up, I’ve got 15 minutes to prep for a meeting, go to the bathroom, and gulp down the last of my coffee that’s been sitting on my desk since sometime yesterday morning.

“You’re really going places,” the imaginary leopard mutters. “Probably down the stairs again.”

So what exactly have I learned from all of this?

Animals are more likely to be offended than not when we wear their faux hides. They’re also probably really pissed off at us wearing the real ones, too.
My high heels are now only good for depicting images of me breaking an ankle.
Blue hair is not camouflage, and yes, we still need to wear clothes to work.

THE END

Originally published on Medium: Workplace Fashion is Here to Stay, on January 25, 2026.

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