Prescribed Dress Code

Mercury is in retrograde for another couple weeks, and while I’d rather be hibernating until it’s safe to come out again, I’m out here in the world getting pummeled by bad luck and full scale migraines.  For weeks now I’ve been in and out of the doctor’s office trying to get to the root of the trauma—no pun intended.  Never knowing when the pain is about to strike is enough to leave the most prepared human on the edge.  All the back and forth disruption has made me very aware of the functionality of my clothing.  

 

I think that most of us dress comfortably when we’re out running errands or planning for a low key day.  Things get complicated as we add more activities to our schedules.  Outfit-wise, there’s a major difference between getting ready for a medical appointment that will potentially be followed by a crying episode/long nap and squeezing in a lunch time procedure halfway through an eight hour work day.  Each outfit requires some overlapping functionality, so layers are the best choice.  You can always add a scarf or cardigan if the waiting room gets chilly.  Pants seem optimal if tables or dental chairs await.  Basically, anything you can see yourself wearing while you Netflix and chill is suitable.

 

 In an attempt at anonymity, I’ll usually forego hair and makeup on days when I’m just going straight to the doctor’s office and straight home.  These days I’ll opt for a pair of leggings, a tank top and a button-up shirt with a pair of comfortable shoes in case I’ll be walking off some numbing agents afterwards.  After coming home with bits of blood and teeth on my collar one-too-many times, I try to make sure that whatever it is I’m wearing is machine washable.  You would think another adult would not let you walk around with pieces of DNA and blood spatter on your person, but unfortunately that is not the world we live in.  So, be prepared.

 

I’ve found that I’m often treated very differently when I arrive to a doctor’s office in my work clothes as opposed to my giant-sunglasses-and-tinted-moisturizer look.  I’m not sure if the sheer disparity between styles of dress makes a difference, but I’m often treated in a more humane way when accessories and foundation get involved.  Is this a subconsciously motivated method for dealing with others?  Or have my medical overseers just been fallible, possibly unprofessional humans?  Perhaps I’m being too hard.  I know that I am also apt to pass judgment on others based on their particular outfits choices.  I suppose there is something to be said for a capsule wardrobe, where your work shirt is also your root canal wear and your only pair of shoes has no choice but to be comfortable.  Until I find the peace to pare down, I’ll continue to Jekyll and Hyde my way through each day accordingly.

 

 

Sarah Seals