Every morning of the work week, I wake up, eat breakfast, and as I step into my work uniform, return immediately to 1991.
My work uniform consists of a teal polo, embroidered with my name and the hotel logo, and a pair of khaki shorts. But these aren't just any khaki shorts. HB refuses to be seen with me in public if I'm in my work uniform because of these shorts.
In case this picture isn't clear enough, allow me to point out all the things wrong with these shorts. First, the waist is ridiculously high. Usually, the waistband sits about 3 inches above my belly button, and 5 or so inches below my breasts, although it appears that when I raise my arms to shoulder-height, I get an extra couple of inches of clearance. The zipper, if you can't tell, is approximately 12 inches long. The only longer zippers I have ever encountered were for coats and jackets. The bottom of the shorts fall just above my kneecaps, as exposing thigh-flesh might cause guests to be offended. The whole look is pulled together by the enormous darted pleats, more on which later.
Equally depressing is the rear view:
I don't think I've ever had a pair of pants or shorts that have made my butt look worse. Perhaps my biggest complaint against these shorts is that they seem to have been manufactured backwards, or maybe for men? While the pleats in the front create a voluminous, sack-like look, the designer of these beauties neglected to put any space in the back to accommodate one's hindquarters. As a result, when I sit down, I have oceans of fabric in my lap, while my derrière becomes increasingly discomfited.
Objections to these uniform shorts have been raised to hotel management, all to no avail. It seems someone accidentally put an extra couple of zeros on the uniform order twenty years ago, and we all have to suck it up until we run out of these monstrosities. For those nostalgic for the early '90s, send me your size, and I will gladly ship you a few pairs to help reduce our stock!