Two days ago, a certain "event" came about, it was during my two day off. A "certain" email was forwarded to several people in the office. Unfortunately, or if I may say fortunately it also reached certain people who were working at the top of the corporate ladder. A friend forwarded me a copy and if I may say, it is an excellent piece of work. I commend my friend Arvin for such an excellent literary piece. One thing pains me though, that such attempts like this would only just be as good as those minority politicians in congress, trying to convince the blind majority. A brave attempt but certainly will only fall into deaf ears. Your work is noted Arvin, fellow inkling. We may be labeled rebels or as such card carrying communist, but we join the ranks of those who in their own special way, try to change their world and go against the flow.
This is the unedited version.
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It is funny, really.
It is. It’s so funny that it breaks my ribs and causes my lungs to implode, I am reeling from an encroachment of sorts, albeit comical, it still stings. I know you’re feeling it too, this sudden urge to gag. You are probably in the same state as I am, clad in “corporate” clothes, glistening with sweat from the mad rush at the MRT.
We look nice, it is supposed to create an office environment to increase productivity and give a sense of self worth, isn’t it?
But really now, does anyone believe it? C’mon.
I understand FULLY the logic behind the move, some people slouch on the way they dress and this reflects on the company. A better dressed work force = better workers. Right? Not when these workers have been used to, and happy with, a dress code schedule that gave enough freedom to be both corporate chic and comfy. What has this move done but irritate the employees and further burden them.
Is how one looks really more important than the fervor one displays at work?
Three points on the matter, my dear, dear friends:
We are in a TROPICAL country. We go home from 5am – 9am, with the later shifts getting more vitamin D than they require. It feels good to leave home in these attires at this hour, fresh from the shower and raring to go, but when you’re sleep deprived, exhausted and choked by clothes you were NEVER used to wearing…it’s a different story. Which leads me to my next salvo…
A normal guy, especially a fresh graduate, has no more than 5 long-sleeved shirts. One he wore for his confirmation, two for different weddings and two new one he got for this job. Now, honestly, does anyone do his laundry weekly here?
A simple question: WHY? Did our performance slump suddenly? Does our cotton shirts drain our ability to do well in our responsibilities. If I were to believe that we are just following the status quo in Torrance and Montreal, how I wish we had their weather, and their salary too…
I put myself in the opposite pair of shoes, and, rationalizing this dress code move (the height of this skit would be the hilarious need for all upper garments to be tucked) is possible, and thus I propose the following:
We are becoming what Rory, in his speech when all of us came in, didn’t want us to think we are in: A call center. Yes, the big wigs that shape this nocturnal building of faux industrial chic design have decided to turn us into a call center. An answer in itself, this point doesn’t need explanation.
Manila is under performing, and the excellent steps in Montreal are being enacted so as to provide guidance and tutelage. Oh-KAY.
It’s all a joke and we’ll all end up just laughing about this in the near future.
Ah… how I wish we all have cars and don’t have to deal with the hustle and bustle of the daily commute. How easy it would be to be clad in long sleeves and collared shirts if we had the money to remodel the contents of our closets in a cinch and if we all lived in centrally air-conditioned hotels.
But the reality of the matter is: most of us live within our means: the only machinery that cools our midday forays with the sandman are your old, reliable industrial fans, we go to work using any of the four: a bus, a jeep, a public railway system or a ratty public AUV (Asian Utility Vehicle).
Not all of us leave in a perfect world.
*** I am sending this out to my friends within the office. I have no dream of starting anything outside a laugh out of this, and maybe some seconds of cerebral function. I hope they send it out too. I wish I could provide them with some kicks and giggles, and at the end of the week, we talk about, rant and laugh about it…but ultimately, there aint anything we can do about it, right? RIGHT?
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