06.11.08

TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN:

I just realized that I have a big problem with my wardrobe. Today, I was supposed to attend a seminar at a fancy hotel in the city. I didn't get much sleep the night before, but because it was my first seminar in a year, I woke up at the ungodly hour of 7:00 AM. And luckily, I did. I had nothing to wear.

Well, I had clothes and shirts and pants, of course. What I did not have was an appropriate thing to wear. I could not rely on past experiences with seminars to get a measure of what was deemed as appropriate apparel, as I went in jeans and shirts in every single thing that I attended since high school.

The simple task of dressing up became an inner dialogue with the self; decorum, fashion, self-expression, human rights and finally, the mastery of jeans over skirts, of shirts over blouse. By the time I was inside the jeepney, I had in my head a manifesto, that jeans and shirts are equals to blouses and fancy dresses, and that people who wear them must not be viewed as inferior to those who wear signature clothings.

I dreamed of the day, where I could waltz in on a job interview, dressed in my favorite FLCL shirt and sneakers and not in some high-heeled, open-toed sandal that was patterned after a medieval torture device.

I remain.

Whatever would have happened in that seminar, I will not know.

I got canceled, on the very last minute.

And I thank my common sense. I chose my shirt and sneakers over my mother's blouse and sandals.

The gods be praised.