Me and Black

Packing for work trips is as easy as dressing for work. That isn’t a difference to the clothes I wear. Perhaps I might put on more pants, with due consideration to cultural sensitivities in different cities. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt from work trips, it’s how to dress conservatively.

The color of choice is still somber black, grey, dark blue and perhaps brown. Any other color makes me look too young and flippant. You know how much I favor black.

As young child, I had an etiquette teacher who drilled it into me that I ought to wear black stockings only in the evenings. I agree, mostly. I still disregard that, especially during dark winters which necessitate thick stockings with boots all day, and like today. Modesty dictated that black stockings wouldn’t be a breach of etiquette; not covering the legs would be. As it is, I’m already pushing it by wearing the translucent sort of stockings instead of a pair of opaque.

It’s really quite unbearable to be wearing anything that sticks to the skin in this weather. The dress was already made of the lightest, breathable fabric. As porous as stockings are, they still make me feel warm. Thank heavens for air-conditioning in the meeting rooms. I’d so melt in this 36⁰C heat and humidity. I couldn’t stop perspiring. A 15-minute tea reception had already plastered the dress and outer shell to my back. Another 15 minutes would have completely drenched the clothes.