I developed this phrase, “Dressing for food functionality” based on my ability to mess up shirts, pants, sweaters, any piece of clothing by spilling sauces (for the most part) on them. No matter what I do, if I’m wearing a solid bright color (white, in particular), there will be a spill from eating something that puts an ugly tattoo splatter that won’t come out in the laundry.
Count on it. Wear that white polo shirt, and I will (and perhaps you will, too) swipe coffee accidently, shooting it across your desk and soaking you in a very unprofessional matter. I’ve seen a senior executive vice president do this to start the morning and live in spillage infamy the rest of the day.
It’s an important reason to dress for food functionality. Don’t wear solid bright colors if you’re going out for Italian or Mexican food. Think through your decisions based on what can and WILL fall into your lap and make your pants look bad, unprofessional or just plain embarrassing.
It will happen. Our dad proved that point in our family. We mocked him one time for continuously messing up shirts, no matter how hard he tried to keep himself clean, wearing thick and wide bibs, tucking them in tightly, trying to eat more slowly.
He vowed and bet us one time he could go through a spaghetti dinner clean. Pulled his chair up tight to the dinner table. Ate slowly, small bites. Paid attention to passing the food. But, when he pulled away from the table, there it was: splashes of tomato sauce down the front of the shirt.
Do not wear white to a barbecue place. Forget about that bright yellow blouse if you’re going out for pizza. You will lose.
Dressing for food functionality means thinking through your what’s going into your mouth, what will fall off the table into your lap, and what will miss you entirely and end up on the floor. The problem is you can’t predict. The spilling and splashing happens regardless of protective measures.
As I drive a certain portion of the highway west of Milwaukee, there are a series of small bumps. There is no sign warning you, but I’ve driven that turf often enough to KNOW there are landmines as your car zips through the area. Does that stop me from taking a coffee sip right at the time I’m rolling over those bumps? Of course not.
So, without thinking, as the coffee sipping lip comes to my mouth, the car hits one of those bumps and I try to pull my head back, extend my coffee container away from my body, and still feel the immediate hot sensation of landing coffee on my chest.
Curse words ensue. I slap my forehead. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Remember the bumps on the road here. But, I don’t.
Dressing for food functionality solves the problem of your clumsiness, lack of attention, or ignorance. Wear a paisley shirt to hide stains when you are in a food danger zone. Prepare beforehand. Acknowledge you will make a mess.
Drop solid bright colors from your wardrobe. I did this years ago. Multiple-colored shirts are a safer bet.
You cannot complete insulate yourself from food spilling disasters, but by dressing for food functionality at least you can mitigate some of the embarrassment.
Count on it. Wear that white polo shirt, and I will (and perhaps you will, too) swipe coffee accidently, shooting it across your desk and soaking you in a very unprofessional matter. I’ve seen a senior executive vice president do this to start the morning and live in spillage infamy the rest of the day.
It’s an important reason to dress for food functionality. Don’t wear solid bright colors if you’re going out for Italian or Mexican food. Think through your decisions based on what can and WILL fall into your lap and make your pants look bad, unprofessional or just plain embarrassing.
It will happen. Our dad proved that point in our family. We mocked him one time for continuously messing up shirts, no matter how hard he tried to keep himself clean, wearing thick and wide bibs, tucking them in tightly, trying to eat more slowly.
He vowed and bet us one time he could go through a spaghetti dinner clean. Pulled his chair up tight to the dinner table. Ate slowly, small bites. Paid attention to passing the food. But, when he pulled away from the table, there it was: splashes of tomato sauce down the front of the shirt.
Do not wear white to a barbecue place. Forget about that bright yellow blouse if you’re going out for pizza. You will lose.
Dressing for food functionality means thinking through your what’s going into your mouth, what will fall off the table into your lap, and what will miss you entirely and end up on the floor. The problem is you can’t predict. The spilling and splashing happens regardless of protective measures.
As I drive a certain portion of the highway west of Milwaukee, there are a series of small bumps. There is no sign warning you, but I’ve driven that turf often enough to KNOW there are landmines as your car zips through the area. Does that stop me from taking a coffee sip right at the time I’m rolling over those bumps? Of course not.
So, without thinking, as the coffee sipping lip comes to my mouth, the car hits one of those bumps and I try to pull my head back, extend my coffee container away from my body, and still feel the immediate hot sensation of landing coffee on my chest.
Curse words ensue. I slap my forehead. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Remember the bumps on the road here. But, I don’t.
Dressing for food functionality solves the problem of your clumsiness, lack of attention, or ignorance. Wear a paisley shirt to hide stains when you are in a food danger zone. Prepare beforehand. Acknowledge you will make a mess.
Drop solid bright colors from your wardrobe. I did this years ago. Multiple-colored shirts are a safer bet.
You cannot complete insulate yourself from food spilling disasters, but by dressing for food functionality at least you can mitigate some of the embarrassment.