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Thoughts on Elevators
Sep. 19th, 2006 09:55 pmUpdate.
Talk Like A Pirate Day is less fun at places where you have a dress code. I made the mistake of checking the handbook the night before, so I learned that my swishy pantaloons are too short to wear (more than 2" above ankle). Anyway, I pretended that the shirt & pants I chose had bucaneer qualities (if you squint real hard), but really I just looked like a classy librarian.
Not that this is in anyway a slur on librarians, or an accurate reflection of what the librarians of my actual experience wear.
Dressing up has ceased to be exciting because I envy the other women their tailored button-down shirts. I want to get me some, but on the other hand I don't because a) I have lots of nice overshirts and b) it's really annoying to shop for button shirts because they don't close over my breasts.
Ordinarily my conclusion is "Well, ha! Breasts good." Lately, less self-affirming reactions -- feeling large & awkward -- have been slipping into my mind.
Your call as to whether this is totally unrelated: all the elevators have mirrored surfaces of brass (or some similar metal). The doors reflect a much smaller image than the wall-with-the-elevator-buttons. It can be disconcerting, if I stand in a way that lines me up across the join.
Standing in elevators is always awkward. Even if I was having a conversation with someone as we waited for the elevator to arrive, I will always fall silent as we step inside. It doesn't make sense. Only until a floor or so has passed will I think of it and consider resuming speech. Then, is it odd to pick back up where you left off?
These elevators at work are posh. Swift, silent, and walled in gorgeous polished marble (except the front wall & doors, which are that mirror-like brass). They also have little TV screens that show headlines + advertizements.
The screens are located above the center of the doorway -- this means they are fairly high up. As a result, people who watch them have a distinctive chin-in-the-air posture. I don't like that. Looks odd. It's also a VERY effective way of avoiding eye-contact.
The plus side of riding reflective elevators every day is that I have been consistently enjoying my new, shorter, haircut. It's fun -- perfect boingy curl-ends hang at finger-height -- and it looks good. Dries quick, and I've even realized that "applying product" isn't necessarily a pain or pretentious.
(On the other hand, I was given the unsolicited advice at Kiddush last week that I should use a different gel. Insulting?)
The unexpected side of the elevators poshness is doorways are deep. They are so undented and well-polished, that until you are right on top of the doorway, you can miss the fact that the doors aren't closed. What looked like the doors was the doorways reflecting each other!
And, not to forget: I remembered to vote. First time regestered elsewhere than my hometown!
Talk Like A Pirate Day is less fun at places where you have a dress code. I made the mistake of checking the handbook the night before, so I learned that my swishy pantaloons are too short to wear (more than 2" above ankle). Anyway, I pretended that the shirt & pants I chose had bucaneer qualities (if you squint real hard), but really I just looked like a classy librarian.
Not that this is in anyway a slur on librarians, or an accurate reflection of what the librarians of my actual experience wear.
Dressing up has ceased to be exciting because I envy the other women their tailored button-down shirts. I want to get me some, but on the other hand I don't because a) I have lots of nice overshirts and b) it's really annoying to shop for button shirts because they don't close over my breasts.
Ordinarily my conclusion is "Well, ha! Breasts good." Lately, less self-affirming reactions -- feeling large & awkward -- have been slipping into my mind.
Your call as to whether this is totally unrelated: all the elevators have mirrored surfaces of brass (or some similar metal). The doors reflect a much smaller image than the wall-with-the-elevator-buttons. It can be disconcerting, if I stand in a way that lines me up across the join.
Standing in elevators is always awkward. Even if I was having a conversation with someone as we waited for the elevator to arrive, I will always fall silent as we step inside. It doesn't make sense. Only until a floor or so has passed will I think of it and consider resuming speech. Then, is it odd to pick back up where you left off?
These elevators at work are posh. Swift, silent, and walled in gorgeous polished marble (except the front wall & doors, which are that mirror-like brass). They also have little TV screens that show headlines + advertizements.
The screens are located above the center of the doorway -- this means they are fairly high up. As a result, people who watch them have a distinctive chin-in-the-air posture. I don't like that. Looks odd. It's also a VERY effective way of avoiding eye-contact.
The plus side of riding reflective elevators every day is that I have been consistently enjoying my new, shorter, haircut. It's fun -- perfect boingy curl-ends hang at finger-height -- and it looks good. Dries quick, and I've even realized that "applying product" isn't necessarily a pain or pretentious.
(On the other hand, I was given the unsolicited advice at Kiddush last week that I should use a different gel. Insulting?)
The unexpected side of the elevators poshness is doorways are deep. They are so undented and well-polished, that until you are right on top of the doorway, you can miss the fact that the doors aren't closed. What looked like the doors was the doorways reflecting each other!
And, not to forget: I remembered to vote. First time regestered elsewhere than my hometown!
