Blazers and Blouses

What the fuck is up with business attire? I recently started two summer gigs here in DC and one of them is in a gray, windowless cube farm where I am required to "dress for business" even though I sit at a computer all day and the only people I really see are the receptionist (who greets clients by phone and not in person, because you have to have an encoded card to get into the building) and my supervisor. Today, that supervisor told me that her boss asked her why I don't wear a blazer to the office. As she says this I am standing in front of her in striped dress slacks, a button down shirt, and a cutely matching (if I do say so myself) light sweater vest. Everything was clean, my hair was pulled back, no visible tattoos. How in the hell would a blazer make the situation any different? Am I just unaware of my own slovenliness and everyone on Earth, except for people like me, knows that blazers are the secret to masking inherent unprofessionality? Give me a fucking break. My supervisor isn't the sharpest of dressers and wears ugly shoes that show off her shitty pedicure. BUT. She keeps a blazer in her office, er, foamboard partitioned cubicle. So, I guess that redeems everything else.

I am beginning to believe that these business attire sanctions are being brought down on me as a demonstration of power relations in the office. It's a passive aggressive way for me to constantly be reminded that I am lowly intern (as if having it following my name on the email list isn't enough; there are 16 employees, I think people will remember which one the intern is) and so am not expected to have a personality. The excuse is that clients could pop in anytime, the reality is that they never do because the building houses a government agency and you gotta know the secret knock to get in. I have seen one client in the weeks that I have been there and he was wearing a t-shirt and jeans. He maybe looked in the direction of my cube for half a second. And I wasn't wearing a blazer, so chances are he's taking his business elsewhere and will tell all of his undoubtedly powerful peers to never step foot in that office.

I guess I just like to bitch about this job. I am officially a professional intern. I guess I could just suck it up and dress the part, but what I really want to do is wear something ridiculous (like a Juicy sweatsuit with matching fuzzy visor) and then flop down into my cube while saying something like, "Fuckin' A, my dogs are killing my ass" and then rip a big fart that echoes throughout the 8 foot high cubes of my not-peers. I think that if these people had any idea how well dressed and behaved I actually am while I am in there compared to the horror that the rest of the world is witness to, they might let the whole blazer thing go.