I think the day has finally come. Ok, it might have come and gone a long time ago but I was oblivious until recently. A brief Twitter poll concluded my sneaking suspicions. I need to revise my collar policy.
I'm not sure why but being a student gave me this sense of entitlement. Why should the collar of my polo lay flat against my shoulders when it can stand proud encircling my nape? That erect piece of fabric stood for so much, and hinted at the tinderbox of charisma that lay hidden underneath a light cotton weave. It differentiated me from the other biochemists.
One quick pivot of the head and I could poke your eye out with the heavily starched weapon of cloth I brandished around my neck.
I'm not a student anymore. And my eventual return to academia will see me wearing suits and looking sharp as hell. Something has gotta give. I can't walk around anymore projecting a completely care free, fun demeanor. I'm serious these days, it's all about business. I'm a young professional now.
As such, my attire on the daily is monopolized by dress pants and proper shirts, even the occasional tie. Polos have been ebbed out of my standard rotation and reserved for weekends around the house juxtaposing baggy, gray sweat pants. In this instance, I think the popped collar is insignificant. It's just me around the crib anyways. Another occasion in which a polo might have a popped collar is if I'm wearing a sweater or zip-up with a collar. Then it's only natural. Outside the house however, a completely different story is inscribed on the metaphorical wall. From this point on, my collar will be folded down, marking the end of a hilarious era, in accordance with the conformity of society.
My charisma will find a new way to express itself.
PS Can you believe this was blog post #199?
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