Hoodies were never part of my style until 2008.
What happened in 2008? Two things; first: I was officially transferred from the Human Resources Office to the Administration Office. Second: I began becoming a foodie. What do those things have to do with hoodies? I had names to live up to.
First: my post at the Administration required me to do particular jobs in and out of the office. These jobs resulted to people dubbing me with monikers that had to do with memos, retirement, and the end of all things fun at the office. Second: because of my fascination with food and restaurants, as well crave food and post photos of said food at ungodly of hours, I’ve been told I destroy diets. So, with the names and the complementary reputation I now have, it wouldn’t hurt to dress the part of Death, the original hooded figure.
Dressing up usually starts with me picking what shirt to wear. At times, it depends on what weather is inflicted on the city but most times it’s about what mood I have.
Then I jump to wear pants.
As I race downstairs, I mentally pick out which pair of shoes would go well with what I am wearing.
If I feel like it, I would even wear a cap!
But all that is easily influenced by my hoodie of choice.
Friends barely take notice of the hoodie because they have seen me wear one so many times that it is typical that I do than I don’t. And because of what I wear, people expect me to be certain things. Then they have this surprised and/or stunned look on their faces when they learn of who I am as packaged so casually. It’s like disarming people just by getting a look of me and my hoodie.
[This blog post is a challenge of sorts, courtesy of fellow WordPress blogger and best friend extraordinaire Pam of Life of a Cuddle Bit.]