So having fucked with our minds my senior management team are aiming to fuck with my sartorial style by Introducing a dress code. As you can see those of us who like to channel our inner hippy by wearing Birkenstocks have been barred, and instead we are expected to join the slatterns who parade around this building wearing vertiginous platform heels and skin tight suits bursting at the seams or they are pouring out of a low cut top that shrank in the wash.
I am all for some boundaries, but I would struggle to define them as like any hard and fast rules there will always be ways around them.
I have suggested that instead of the dress code we should introduce weekly mutton button.
It has taken two days but I have finally waded through tall that marking I showed you, of course after half term there will be another pile but for now I am marking lite!