Tess McGill

In my frazzled rush to the gym for a two hour workout this morning - I had to burn at least 800 calories after this piggish weekend but that's another story - I forgot my nice boots and didn't realize that factor until I got out of the shower and started unpacking my work clothes. So now I am wearing white and blue sneakers (mostly white unfortunately) with black tights and a black skirt. I look like a fucking 80's era working girl rushing around the streets of NYC. I should have done my bangs in an upsweep.
What I didn't realize until this very morning, much to my frustration and embarrassment, is that that (can you say that that? I don't know how else to say it) particular look is one hundred per cent obsolete. Not one working woman out on the streets in 2010 wears sneakers with her work clothes on her way to the office. That look is so obsolete that I actually got snickers and sneers in the two short blocks from Grand Central to my office. People were downright angry! They were truly offended by my absolute lack of style. Ironically enough, it's Fashion Week and I work about a block from Bryant Park. I was thinking of walking by the tents in my get up to see if anyone would think my look is SO bad that it comes full circle and maybe I'd be on the cover of WWD tomorrow. The reality is that I will probably hide in my office until lunch and buy a pair of crappy heels at Daffy's during lunch. That is such a waste of money though. Am I really that insecure? Do I care that much what all the well coiffed gay boys at the office think about me? Hmm. I think I'm just going to say screw it, and stand proud. I look like a tool. So fucking what? I am awesome because I don't care.