absolut ginger

The past few weeks had been quite challenging. Thanks to my friends who helped me to get through all these nonsense. I find wallowing in self pity and anger concerning the things lost/ shit that happened would not do any good. So, let’s forget about things that bugging me and look at the brighter sides of life (if any). I think it would be good to share this joke of the new uniform with you guys.

There were so much hype when we were shown the new uniform for ladies in the office. We were glad that our tea lady, cleaning lady, salesgirls and smurf days were over. The new colors – pin striped beige blouse to go with mocha colored jacket and skirts or pants got us all excited.

However, after trying out the new uniform, there was nothing but complaints, complaints and more complaints. Instead of tailoring according to our body measurement, we were scorned by the tailors claiming that we had put on weight when we couldn’t fit into the uniform.

We took our measurement about two months ago. I am sure, in two months, there wouldn’t be a huge fluctuation of weight or measurement as there was no festive seasons to burst our waist line. If you tell me, out of the 100, 10 persons do not have the perfect fit, we would believe that we had either put on or lost weight. It was the other round. 90% of the uniforms needed to be altered.

I was cursing like mad when they told me to lose weight. I said it’s not a matter of whether I lose weight or not – it’s either you are using measuring tape for aliens or you are just a lousy tailor.

To give you guys a clearer picture, I would illustrate by drawing. It’s not a good idea to take pics of myself and plastered all over the internet – especially when I am pretty sure that the sight of me would give you stomach upset and probably a series of nightmares. Well – even if I wanted to take pics of myself now, I can’t. The camera was stolen.

Round #1 When I got my pajamas.. err.. I mean uniform, the blouse was way too short. The genius shortened the length of my blouse from 27 inches to 24 inches. In his notes, he clearly stated 27 inches.

I asked what is wrong with him? He said, he had to make my blouse shorter so that it would not be longer than my blazer. Otherwise, it would look odd. I asked, why can’t you make my blazer one or two inches longer and not to cut my blouse to three inches shorter? Where is your common sense?? *Knock knock* Yoo hoo? McFly? Anybody home?

I ended up looking like a belly dancer with extra flab. Perhaps I should don a sari to avoid looking weird.

The pants were of perfect fit. One problem though. Most of us couldn’t sit down in that pants. We might have to stand the whole day to do our work to avoid tearing the seams whenever we want to sit or squat. Whoever that chose the unstretchable material for pants and skirts is obviously a fucking moron.

Round #2 Due to having to adhere to company’s deadline to wear new uniform for assembly in July, the tailor did not alter my belly dancing blouse. I had to wobble like a penguin in it for the rest of the assembly day to avoid showing my belly button.

A colleague said that I looked like Ninja Turtle.

When the tailor was told to alter the pants to avoid bursting of seams, he didn’t fix the bottom part, only the top half. I ended up wearing Ali Baba pants.

Round #3 Ali Baba pants is gone. Say hi to grandma pants. Because of the inflexible material, the groin area is enlarged so I could have some room if I were to sit down. It was as though I have two balls and a penis in between my legs.

Since there wasn’t anymore cloth left for the blouse to be “lengthened”, they had no choice but to make me three new blouses. To avoid complaints that the blouse is either too short or too tight, they decided to make me a pajamas.

Round #4 I am getting very sick with the tailors that I decided to get someone else to alter my blouse. This tailor totally has no idea where to place the bust seams. I am not Bai Ling or Anna Nicole Smith. I am sure my bust sizes are quite proportionate to my size. It’s confirmed that there are really, really LOUSY tailors in this world. They should be flown to Mars. Probably they would have businesses from the aliens.

Thank God that my aunt helped me to alter my pajamas.. I mean.. my uniform. Or else, I would have no choice but to wear the pajamas and grandma’s pants with ample room for balls and penis to work.

P/S That is not how my hairstyle looks like.

In: Bitch & Whine, Doodles, Office Affairs | Permalink
Posted by Gina