I am sitting in my office at my desk – having lunch (“off the clock” mind you) – and writing this post. I am wearing chinos and a golf shirt. And an old pair of Keen Finlays on my feet. I’m comfy. My office has no dress code per se other than “business casual.” It’s pretty much “dress for your day” except on Fridays when jeans are de rigueur. If we have special visitors or meetings, I’ll put on a suit. But otherwise, I’m pretty informal. Though it hasn’t always been that way. . . . .
At my old firm, the managing partner, who ran the office like a personal fiefdom, insisted on suits and ties. Every day. On Fridays after noon, guys could loosen their tie. When our managing partner stiffly observed that “no man can effectively work without wearing a suit” I responded that Michael Jordan did pretty well in his shorts and wife beater. That brought a titter from those assembled but darkened the countenance of our managing partner. Once one of my partners showed up without a tie. Mister Dress Code marched into his office and pitched a twenty dollar bill on his desk. “Go get a tie and put it on,” he growled. The partner pushed back and was “fired” on the spot (only to be grudgingly allowed to resume work – the “firing” conveniently overlooked).
I get on the train in a nice suburb of Chicago and truth be told, I see very few suits. The guys and gals are almost all “biz casual.” For tomorrow, I already have my clothes laid out – green denim bib overalls with a checkered shirt, high topped boots and a railroad cap. And a bandana.