Every metropolis has them. A breed of mammal that can only be found deep in the center of a concrete jungle. They travel in packs dressed in shades of blue, gray and khaki, as they prattle about their latest successes. These creatures may vary depending on geography, but rest assured they can be seen in their natural habitat in the morning grabbing a hot beverage, around lunchtime prowling for food or hanging out at the nearest watering hole in the evening.
No, I’m not referring to some exotic beast, but to a 20 or 30-year-old-something male professional.
If you work downtown or in a business-centric part of your city, you’ve probably run across exactly what I just described. A group of men that all seem to be dressed in either gray or khaki slacks, a light blue button down and brown dress shoes. (While researching this, I’ve noticed that they also tend to have a friend who wears red. Likes to throw the girls off.)
And it’s a rare occurrence to see them alone at their peak points of leaving the office. It’s as if their skyscraper blows the whistle for lunch and everyone meets in the lobby to mob the streets of Dallas. Whether you head down St. Paul or Main St. you will see a pack of the men dressed in blue separated by 10 feet from the next pack of the blue brigade.
Who created this dress code rule anyway?
I guess men are not as worried about matching their co-workers as women, or if maybe this is all part of college grad starter-kit they’re given on day one of the real world.
You know, like…
“Hey, you’re 23 and have this new big boy job. But we want to make sure you feel like you fit in, so please wear this blue button down, these slacks, and put a bump it in the front of your slicked back hair. Voilà! Now you resemble all your predecessors that graduated to suits.”
I know in a way this could seem superficial talking about someone’s outfit, but think about the poor women at happy hour who are expected to remember the cute guy who just hit on them. Imagine heading to the restroom, and when you come out, you see 20 of his clones sitting at high-tops, telling fratty stories, drinking their PBR and all slowly move up their heads up and stare. And more than likely after sifting through this deep blue sea, you’d have to talk to a few of them before finding the original guy. How exhausting!
So what’s the moral of this story? Awareness.
If you never noticed this phenomenon before, you won’t be able to tear your eyes away. And in other cities, especially the South, it’s even harder to tell them apart because they all have the southern swoop of hair. A few summers back I met a bunch of them and thought I saw a reincarnation of The Beatles x20, but that’s another story.
Anyway, please cut these guys some slack – we wouldn’t want them to feel blue about their appearance. And next time you’re walking down the street, pay one of them a compliment. Let the guy know you like his outfit. Then wait and see who replies.
If it’s more than one, give them a high-five!
Disclaimer: Yes, I am a creep. I took these photos without most of these guys noticing. )
