Clothes Maketh The Man — Part 2.

I woke up the next morning in a state of mild panic, having slept right through my alarm. I was due for the interview at 11 am, and it was already 9.45. As I pulled on the beige pants I had borrowed from my sisters husband I couldn’t help thinking I was not dressing to character.

Beige socks, beige pants, and a plain white shirt. Maybe the staff at the advertising company I was going to would think I was such a power dresser that I’d chosen to play it down. I was clutching at straws, and I knew it.

As I grabbed my jacket I rushed down the stairs. My sister Jenn, and Devina were at the kitchen table eating toast chattering and laughing. They fell silent as I entered. I wanted to tell Devina that it was a mean trick she’d pulled last night taking a picture of me in those panties, but this was not the moment. I was more concerned about getting to the interview.

I looked outside to see if the taxi I had called had arrived. The street was empty, all the morning commuters having left this quiet suburban cul de sac.

“Dress for success,” said Devina. I noticed Jenn smirk. “Always a good strategy,” she said.

Jenn chimed in, “You’ll do fine! Don’t worry about it. You know you ‘re good at interviews.”