The Lady in the Green Dress

I saw you on Thursday, as I was coming in from my morning jog. You were wearing a sleeveless green dress in a fit-and-flair style (fitted in the bodice, then flowing out into an A-line skirt). Green is my favorite color, so it caught my eye.

You were striding so purposefully to work on a blissfully warn but not humid summer morning. At least, I think you were going to work. Why else would you be dressed so nicely, and at an hour when most employed people are heading off to their job? Though these days, with relaxed office dress codes, it’s hard sometimes to tell if someone is going to work or a backyard barbecue. (Ripped jeans to work? Really?)

I wasn’t sure if you were walking to your car to drive to work, or to the bus stop to wait for that lumbering transport that herky-jerks into the city. Yet I could tell by your path you were walking in the direction of the bus stop that stands along the main drag in town.

Ah, then I saw you were wearing running shoes. You were definitely going into the city. When I worked in the city, I’d often wear comfortable shoes for the long walks to and from the bus station to my office or to the subway that carried me to my office and then back home again.

I used to keep a nicer pair of shoes in my desk. Once I arrived at my office, I’d take off my walking shoes and slip on the fancier ones. After I was told I was laid off, I packed up those shoes, took them home, and deposited them in my closet. Don’t need to wear them much anymore.

Don’t have much of a need for work clothes now, either (though I was never much of a dress wearer). My designated work clothes hang forlornly in my closet, taken out only for the occasional job interview. Rare events that have so far failed to net me a job.

I used to take pride in having a relatively presentable work wardrobe. Now, I’m not sure I’ll ever wear such clothes again.

Or that I’ll ever again be like the lady in the green dress, striding purposefully to work in the morning.