Outfit Critiques Often Forget Their Friends First
Day 142 of The Andie Chronicles
I could sense her eyes on me.
As a woman, you know when another woman is sizing you up. You can feel her critique every stitch on your body, the jewels around your neck, the small, yet seemingly undetectable chip of your nail polish.
Even though she doesn't say a word, her eyes are expressing volumes about how she feels about you. If she approves or disapproves of you, you know it.
As I poured my coffee into an oversized mug in the ornate kitchen come break room in the office, I could hear her judgement.
And just her judgment reached fever pitch, I turned around and found GG staring at me. Like it was the first time my friend of nearly a decade was laying eyes on me.
“Oh hey, you surprised me,” I said, almost dropping the mug. I was glad I didn’t; I needed the caffeine. Every day in the office, I sustained myself with caffeine and a secret supply of chocolates I hid in my desk drawer.
“Sorry, but I was stuck looking at your outfit.”
“You like?” I did a little twirl, the flares of my high-waisted jeans dancing as I spun.
“No, I hate.”
“You hate what I’m wearing?” Rocking back on her heels, it was unlike GG to criticise what anyone was wearing, let alone me. Her peacekeeping obsession never involved rocking the boat.
“I mean you look good, but you don’t look right for the office. You look like you should be working on the Windsor end of Chapel Street. With all the cool hipsters who don’t own a suit or lace-up dress shoes.”
Way to summarise and stereotype an entire part of Melbourne, I contemplated. And there was nothing wrong with dressing like that.
“What about this outfit isn’t right for the office?” I analysed what GG was wearing; she had deferred from her corporate uniform that from working at the bank. Structured blazers. Starched shirts. Pleated knee-length skirts and Mary-jane heels. Kate Middleton would have delighted in her wardrobe.
Now she was CMO, Chief Marketing Office, I thought she might relax her look. We weren’t in the bank; we were in fashion. And to be in fashion, you can’t be as corporate as she was trying to be. It's what they taught us in fashion school.
Yet, it wasn’t my place to dress her down and tell her that.
“Denim. We’re in 101 Collins Street, in the penthouse office, we don’t wear denim. And I would have thought if you wanted the Garment Tech roll, too, you would care more.”
“Why are you saying this to me?”
“People are talking, and I don’t want them to talk about you if you can avoid it.” I put my coffee down on the bench, trying to control the urge to throw it against the floor and storm out. “Tell me what they're saying about me.”
GG shook her head. “I can’t do that.”
I stepped forward, reaching close to her, and put my hand on the side of her arm. Patting her sleeve, her eyes wouldn’t leave mine.
“Babe, I know you hate taking sides, but for once in your life, I would've hoped you would be on your dear friend’s side. My side. Not a man's side."
Picking up my coffee, I returned to my office.
It had gone a little cold, but I didn’t care.
It was fucking worth it.
You’re reading The Andie Chronicles, the 2023 romance-fiction series from the 1 Lovelock Drive (1LD) universe.
By the way, this all started when Andie turned thirty-five, and her then-boyfriend didn’t call her.
Or the day after that.
Or the day after that, too.
Everything started to unravel when her BFFs got into bed with her ex, too… ⬇️ ⬇️ ⬇️
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A little lost on what’s happening at 1 Lovelock Drive?
Well, you see, Andie’s break-up started back in February and so much has happened since then. These stories will help you catch right up! xx
